People often ask me why I mow my lawn with a push-mower. One of the reasons I offer (aside from the fact that it’s not annoying like the sound and smell of a gas-mower), is that I work up a serious appetite using the thing — and I often come up with some fun meal ideas. Today was no exception. I had a big bag of green beans that needed to be used, and my preferred method for cooking those is always in a wok with peanut oil and a heavy dose of minced garlic. What I was less certain about was what was going to accompany them.
After pushing the mower to and fro for almost an hour, brown rice sounded pretty fantastic. I recently spied a shoyu-vinegar sauce in Bryant Terry’s Vegetable Kingdom, so I decided to try that as a drizzle over the top. The sauce is simple, simple: equal parts shoyu and rice wine vinegar with a dash of sesame oil, some hot chili flakes and brown sugar to taste.
It’s crazy how something with so few ingredients can add so much punch to steamed rice and stir-fried beans. I mean wowza! It’s the kind of sauce that one could develop a serious craving for in no time flat. And I did, in fact, have two heaping helpings of this meal, largely because the sauce just sparks some kind of elation. I was eating my meal alone, but despite experiencing this taste sensation solo, I wanted to shout out: “Damn, this is good.” So, I did because why not?
Usually when I cook, I’ll incorporate leftovers from a previous meal. Today, I tossed in a bit of the next-level tofu that I’d made a few days back. I didn’t have enough to really impact the flavor of the beans, and honestly that’s probably for the best given the spicy jerk profile. But I did feel virtuous for using up the last scrap of that dish without it going to waste.
Green beans and brown rice with a shoyu-vinegar sauce is a solid, low-cost, healthy meal that makes a great main or a satisfying side. As I write, I’m still thinking about ways that I’ll use the remainder tomorrow. The first thing that comes to mind is to serve it with some beautiful portobello mushrooms pan fried alongside a cornmeal hush puppy or two.
I’ve been thinking about the last thing that really spoke to me. Inspired me. Made me dig deep, but also made me laugh. And I tell you what, it was a couple of weekends ago during the Earth Day celebration in Forest Park here in Saint Louis. I’ve only been in my new city for a couple of months, so it was very energizing to be at a festival with such a large group of people. The crowd was diverse, as any group of people gathered in the middle of a city might be. But there was a sense of unification with everyone seemingly talking about some aspect of the environment — or at the very least, creating something beautiful for people to experience.
A total stranger gave me a few pouches of seeds: milkweed and heirloom zinnias. (If you’re interested in attracting Monarch butterflies to your garden, this will do the trick, he said.) I thought of his very kind act today when I prepared a new bed for planting them in honor of May Day. It seems like a perfect day to plant seeds that will bring butterflies. When he gave me the pouches of seeds, he also told me that the zinnias are from his 88-year-old neighbor’s plants. It made me feel good about the future of the flowers.
Spoiler Alert: I don’t think this post is going to have much to do with tofu, except to say that you should absolutely snag a copy of Bryant Terry’s Vegetable Kingdom and make the jerk tofu recipe on page 143. It would be criminal to provide the details here, (for so many reasons, not the least of which is copyright infringement). But beyond the obvious, it’s really more because you need to experience the whole damn book. The photos, the soundtrack, the beautiful writing, and the soul in every ingredient. Plus, chef doesn’t let you off easy. You’ve gotta marinate the tofu overnight in a homemade marinade. And make some garlic chips, and blanch some collard greens, and last but not least, make a cilantro sauce. It sounds harder than it is. It’s not hard. But you just can’t be in a hurry. You’ll need to give yourself over to cooking. Fry that garlic and meditate. Chop the peppers and reflect on the meaning of life. Cooking with Bryant Terry is simple yet profound.
See, that’s the real point of this here essay: peak experiences. In my view of late, the really exciting stuff is pretty darn simple. For example, grocery shopping. I used to dread it until I started to think about it in a new way. It used to be so gray and utilitarian. Now, I start by reading cookbooks. And then I go to wonderful international food stores and farmers markets.
My all-time favorite food writer is Nigel Slater because he writes in a very meandering fashion. You feel like you’re with him, puttering about in wooden clogs, snipping herbs from your garden and staring at the clouds. Eventually, he decides to make a stew. Impromptu style based on his mood, and pantry, and something poetic way down deep in his soul. He lifts you up with his free-spirited approach. After all of my reading, I usually haven’t settled on exact recipes, but I’m ready to make a list of spices, oils, grains, and nuts that I’m lacking — just in case. Usually, I focus in on at least one dish that I’m going to make.
In this case, it was the jerk tofu from Vegetable Kingdom. Partly, I was zeroing in on a recipe with tofu because of Michael Greger, M.D. I found this dude recently while googling how to optimize my microbiome. Next thing I know, I’m spiraling down a very exciting Internet rabbit hole, listening to a long playlist of science-based, heavily-researched videos on nutrition, diet, and health-optimization. After about 3 hours of YouTubing, I was ready to try a plant-based diet. And by that, I mean, try being a vegan. (Although, I quickly started calling it nearly-vegan, because I can’t seem to give up labneh on my flatbread, and parmesan on my pasta!) The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak!
Currently, I’m on day two of this plant-based experiment. I must say, it feels pretty good. (In my stronger moments, I even think about giving up the labneh and the parmesan. But not yet, not yet.) At the moment, I’ll just say two things. First, I’m pondering how to indulge my love of food writing, but in a way that is uniquely me. And meaningful to me. There’s a plethora of gorgeous, food-styled content in the world. I mean, it’s staggering. I know because I spend a decent amount of time scrolling and saving it. The downside of all this food porn, is that it makes it very daunting to get in the game. What could I possibly add? What ingredient could possibly be novel? To be honest, I don’t know yet. But, I’m hoping that my ramblings will lead me down the garden path, Nigel Slater style.
My second thing has nothing, directly, to do with food. But I really must rant. I am so discouraged by the American front lawn. It’s such a thing. And to me, a baffling thing. Everyone on my street seems to have a lawn that is being “treated.” I keep wondering: treated for what? These guys wearing ghostbuster backpacks roll up and spray some mysterious thing on the lawns being treated. I don’t feel good about this. But the polite, Midwestern-born part of me doesn’t want to be rude or strident. I really am not comfortable getting up on a soapbox. I feel a bit shy. But at the same time, I feel a lot of despair over this lawn-treatment phenomenon. I don’t know how our notion of beauty (aka: uniformity) got so messed up. Like the guy with the pouches of seeds at Earth Day, I want to hand out inspiration to my neighbors. I want to share knowledge. I want to show people that there’s a different path.
I say all of this with humility. I used to be such an eye-rolling skeptic. I mean, that’s a story for another day. But there was a time when I just wasn’t that interested in the perils of monoculture, or composting, or eating my organic greens. It pains me to think that I wasn’t open to the obvious. And now, it’s baffling looking back.
So I’m going to mediate while frying my garlic chips. What can I do? My first thought is to lead by example. Lectures never seem to work. Create something beautiful on the block that moves people. Call in the butterflies. Turn a lawn into a prairie. I know it’s not going to happen overnight, but I have faith that even little acts of kindness and beauty can make a difference. Stay tuned.
My absolute favorite thing on a leisurely Sunday morning is to challenge myself to use up vegetables and other items that have lingered too long on my counter or in the crisper drawer. This feels especially fun if the cooking is impromptu, from-the-hip, and possibly inspired by something I’ve read about or seen, but never tried. Today’s experiments include frying up a big beautiful tomato that I bought nearly three weeks ago at the Soulard Market shortly after moving to St. Louis.
When I bought the tomato it was vivid green. Seeing it in the market stall, my mind immediately flashed to Fanny Flagg’s Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe. I’d never made fried green tomatoes, nor read the book, but I vowed to do both. In classic fashion, time slipped away. The book sits unread, and the tomato eventually turned red. Happily, it remained firm. So, today was the day that it finally found its way to the frying pan.
How to Cook Fried Green (Or Not-So-Green) Tomatoes
2-3 Green Tomatoes
2 beaten eggs
1C Panko (Bread Crumbs)
1/8C Olive Oil
Black Pepper
Smoked Shoyu
Coat a cast iron skillet with a thin layer of olive oil. As I was prepping my tomatoes, I heated the oiled skillet on a medium flame. (While many recipes recommend as much as a 1/2 cup of vegetable oil, I found that much less gave me a good result.)
Cut the tomatoes in thick slices, dredge in egg, and coat in breadcrumbs. Place gently in the hot oil and cook for about two minutes on each side, or until a crispy crust forms. Add black pepper to taste. (Since I’m serving these with smoked shoyu, which is salty, I’m holding off on additional salt.)
Serve with a scoop of cottage cheese, some chopped flat-leaf parsley or cilantro, and a dash of smoked shoyu. The Japanese oak used to craft this soy sauce lends a robust, umami-rich smoked flavor.
My first thought when I took a bite of the hot, crunchy tomato with a forkful of the creamy, full-fat cottage cheese (infused with umami goodness) was that it was strangely reminiscent of the flavor of a bacon-heavy BLT. Since I no longer eat meat, unless I’m a guest at someone’s home, I haven’t made a BLT in a few years. But, the memory is fresh in my mind. The crispy breaded tomatoes with shoyu, which so powerfully conjured bacon, was surprising, and incredibly delicious.
After finishing my lunch, I decided to research other fried green tomato recipes. Most seemed to coat their tomato slices in flour, then egg, followed by a mix of cornmeal and flour. I’ll try that method next time, but was very happy using Panko. I decided on a side of cottage cheese because I’ve been looking for ways to get more protein in every meal, and a half-scoop has 11 grams.
Easy, quick, and yummy, this is a treat that I predict will be on constant repeat in my kitchen. Maybe next time I’ll even try it before the tomatoes change color.
While I will always love printed cookbooks, it’s hard to deny the inspiration I get from the thousands (millions?) of influencers, chefs, food photographers, and stylists online. Lately, I’ve really been enjoying Vegan Challenge 4 U where I recently found a fabulous recipe for roasted cauliflower with a golden drizzle (tahini, lime juice, maple syrup, water). If you enjoy dishes that have tremendous eye appeal, major health benefits, and are foolproof and delicious, this is one you need to try right away.
I made it today for lunch and ate the entire head of cauliflower in one sitting — no regrets! Cauliflower is loaded with many nutrients and plant compounds that are good for your health. And, a medium-sized head of cauliflower has 12g of fiber. (The recommended daily fiber intake for women is 25g and 38g for men.) Apparently most people in the U.S. only get about half of that amount, which is a shame because sufficient fiber intake is good for gut health, regulates blood sugar, and so much more.
However, the health benefits aren’t the thing that will be on your mind when you whip this up for lunch or surprise guests at your next dinner party. The main thing you’ll be thinking is: “OMG this is bomb!” I also love how it’s a great example of culinary alchemy in that it transforms a frequently maligned and unloved vegetable and turns it into the much-loved star of the show.
Tender and buttery on the inside, golden brown and slightly crispy on the outside. All it needs is a drizzle of high-quality olive oil, some salt, and pepper. The golden drizzle sauce that I made today takes it over the top, but you can skip it if you are worried about calories or trying to avoid refined sugar.
After such a satisfying lunch, I do what I always do after cooking a new dish: I research more ways to celebrate the key ingredients. Wow. There are so many ways to prepare cauliflower. I was reminded how I went through a big phase a few years ago, where I obsessively made cauliflower pizza crust almost every week. The hype is real: it’s good! It does, however, take some effort. So after my initial love affair, I turned my attention elsewhere.
Today was a good reminder to make cauliflower a regular item on my shopping list. I also learned that this vegetable is often paired with black olives in a variety of Mediterranean dishes, as in this roasted cauliflower salad with anchovies, olives, and capers. Mmmmm. I can’t wait to go shopping so I can snag all of the ingredients and give it a spin.
The Civilized Lunch Project 