Scrambled tofu that tastes like scrambled eggs — only better? Sounds almost too good to be true. Happily, the recipe that I discovered last week is not only real, but easy to make. One block of tofu will make enough for four people — or a great breakfast four days in a row, which is how I enjoyed it. Scrambled tofu reheats perfectly in the microwave, so it’s also a great dish to make ahead.
One of the things that makes this so exciting is Kala Namak, a mineral-rich black salt from the Himalayas. It’s a go-to for vegans seeking egg flavor without the eggs, and a popular condiment in many Indian chutneys and snacks. Famous for its pungent, sulfurous aroma, the first time you get a whiff of it you may have doubts. Keep going! The terrible stink-bomb smell will dissipate upon cooking. It’s worth it. Your finished dish will be delicious.
As I often say, my favorite way to cook is to have time-intensive staples prepped and waiting in my fridge. (Favorites are caramelized onions, a pot of farro, and roasted vegetables.) With these basics at hand, it’s easy to freestyle on a whim. This scrambled tofu is now on that list of foundational necessities. It’s phenomenal dressed up with herbs, onions, and vegetables, as the mood and occasion inspires. It’s also great on toast, in a pita, rolled up in a tortilla, or all by its lonesome, without any carbs at all. The last time I made it, I added pan fried red peppers with lots of cumin and thick slices of avocado
As an “almost vegan” for just two months, I have a lot to learn. But one thing I knew from the start is that I don’t want to eat a lot of processed products that simulate meat, eggs, or dairy. I’d rather just celebrate the beauty and tastiness of plants, and learn how to cook them in exciting new ways. However, this dish really does taste amazingly like scrambled eggs. Flavored with brewer’s yeast, turmeric, garlic powder, onion powder, paprika, red pepper flakes, black pepper, salt, and Kala Namak, in a tahini and oat milk base that makes the tofu super creamy, I’d argue it’s even better.
It’s ironic. The best scrambled eggs I’ve ever had aren’t really eggs at all.
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.
The Civilized Lunch Project 