First you will want to make a rich batch of fresh soy milk. Soak 1/2 cup of dried soy beans in two cups of water overnight. In the morning blend the water and beans to a pulp in a liquidiser/blender and pour into a medium saucepan to heat. Swish an extra 1/2 cup of water around the blender to pick up any bits that didn’t make it into the pan and pour it in.

Heat on medium high until the mixture starts to rise. Immediately turn the heat to medium low and heat for around ten more minutes, or until the gross beany smell is gone and it begins to smell sweet.

Line a mesh strainer with a piece of fine muslin and place it over a large bowl. Pour the contents of the pan into the strainer and mix it around a bit to allow some of the soy milk to seep through. Add 1/2 cup of boiling water into the pulp and stir it through. Rather than burn my hand off, I tend to leave it for 10-15 minutes before wringing the muslin to extract the soy milk, but the general idea is just get the liquid out. As much as you can. You should be left with about 2 cups of soy milk in the end, give or take.

Be sure to save the now strained soy pulp inside (okara!) because you can use it for lots of other things.

Pour the soy milk into a shallow frying pan and put the heat on low. Super low. As in no bubbles, no potential for boiling. After 5-10 minutes you will see a skin form (try lightly blowing on the surface of the milk and you will definitely start to see it after a few minutes). Once a solid skin has formed across the surface of the milk, carefully cut around the edges or stab them down with a chopstick so you can remove the sheet from the pan.

I would like to give advice on how to do this cleanly, but basically I just fling soy milk across the kitchen and eat the yuba straight out of the pan with chopsticks (with a tiny bit of soy sauce or kecap manis is my favourite).

Each time you pull a sheet off the top a new one will begin to form, so the yield is dependent on the size of the pan you’re using and how much soy milk is in there.

Even if you’ve only got the patience for one sheet, give it a try. You can always store the rest of the soy milk for a rainy day. Or coffee.

People are always asking me how I make my own tofu and I’m always telling people it’s easy and to give it a try. And yes you can always add your own herbs and flavourings in the curd to craft your own schmexy tofu varieties.

Awhile back I posted this tutorial, but not everyone has a press or a mould, nor a soy milk machine, so I thought it’d be worth posting a quick tut on how to make your own bean curd without any fancy equipment (in fact I’ve given up using my soy milk maker out of preference for this blender/liquidiser method). This will only make a small quantity, but consider it a jumping off point. You can easily double or triple it later if you decide you want to make more.

Soak 1/2 cup of soy beans in 2 cups of water overnight. In the morning skim any gunk off the top of the water and blend the beans and soaking water along with another 1 cup of water. You don’t need a mega liquidiser for this, just something that’ll make a good pulp out of the lot.

It will smell rank at this point, but take note of it so you can spot the difference in aroma once heat has been applied.

Pour the contents of the blender into a medium saucepan and turn the heat to medium high. Stir constantly while the mixture heats. Once it comes close to boiling, the top will grow foamy and rise. Quickly remove the pan from the heat to stir everything back together again. Heat for a further ten minutes on low heat and you’ll notice that pre-cooked beany smell has disappeared. Be careful not to leave on high heat for too long else everything will curdle and you’ll have to chuck it out and start all over!

Meanwhile place a mesh colander over a large bowl and line it with thin muslin. Once you’re finished heating the soy mix, pour it into the fabric and press as much milk through as possible (use a spoon or spatula to help). Add another 1/4 cup of boiling water to the soy pulp and stir through, again pressing out as much as possible. I usually leave it to cool for a few minutes so I can just twist the muslin up and squeeze with my hands.

You will be left with what’s known as okara, the by-product of all soy milk and hence tofu production. Pop this in the fridge because you can use it for all sorts of other recipes.

Pour the contents of the bowl, your soy milk, into a saucepan and heat until the temperature reaches 180 F.

Mix 1 teaspoon of nigari flakes plus 1/4 tsp gypsum with 2 tablespoons of hot water in a small bowl or cup (you can experiment with using just one or the other coagulant, but this is my preference for taste and texture). Stir until the nigari is dissolved. When the soy milk is hot enough remove it from the heat and stir quickly a few times  before pouring the nigari/gypsum/water across the vortex, ensuring you cover as much of the milk as possible.

Pop a lid on the pan and leave aside for a good ten minutes for the curds to separate. Sometimes it helps spread the coagulant evenly by lightly agitating the pan a few times.

Either get a clean piece of muslin or rinse the one you’ve already using and line the mesh colander once more over the bowl. Check out the curd in the pan; it should look like a big clump of white floating in greenish clear liquid. If it still looks opaque and milky then try applying some more heat to the pan and gently agitate it again.

Carefully pour everything into the muslin. Tilt the colander from side to side to let as much of the whey pour through as possible but do not stir the curd or use utensils to press liquid out.

You can do one of two things here: either ball the muslin up as tight as you can, wrap it equally tight in a tea towel, and press it with a heavy object or five (like books), or mould it. Because the former method is pretty self explanatory I opted to do the latter for this tutorial.

Find a small (and I mean small – no more than 4-5 inches square for one batch) tupperware container and line it with a tea towel. Set the muslin on top of the tea towel and carefully distribute the curd to lie flat in the container (you can use your fingers or a spoon). Fold the muslin over the curd so it covers the container evenly. Fold another tea towel over this and place a heavy object(s) on top to press. The amount of time you leave this depends on how firm you want your tofu, so you’ll need to experiment!

And that’s it! Once you remove the weight and towels, unfold the muslin to find your very own home crafted tofu!

This is my second time participating in Food Network Friday (FNF), a cookalong event where participants veganise a chosen Food Network recipe. This month I got to choose the recipe (responsibility, OMG!), a stuffed shells dish by Emeril Lagasse, and it did not disappoint. Hint: this is a good dish to trick eggplant haters into consuming what’s actually one of the best vegetables on the planet (fact-don’t argue). If, however, you’re one of those people who in spite of all reason opposes aubergine, I’m pretty confident you could use courgette (zucchini) or pumpkin/squash in its place.

Believe it or not I escaped the entire preparation unscathed. I wasn’t even wearing an apron and I walked away in moderate tidyness. I didn’t get a single drop of the lemon juice in my eye (which, odd as it may sound, might be a first as citrus appears to have an extreme affinity for my eyes).

Recipe Notes

I halved the recipe and took note of my changes and replacements this FNF, so I’m happy to provide my notes. If you have access to such a thing, use a crumbly sausage substitute. Otherwise dice the sausage up into tiny pieces so you don’t later fight to mash it all into the shells.

I roasted my eggplant first (ridiculously hot oven, stab the aubergine a few times, pop it in for 20-30 minutes, cool, remove flesh, chop), so that aspect of the filling was more of a mash. I toyed with adding some liquid smoke (it goes so well with eggplant), but decided in the end to follow the recipe more accurately.

Last but not least, I cut the cream down immensely. The original recipe called for three cups, but I couldn’t bring myself to add that much (even having halved the recipe), and it worked fine with just the 1/3 cup I opted for. Besides, tomatoes are in season here right now and don’t need any help boosting their awesomeness!

I knew almost immediately my veganised version of this dish would turn into a casserole, except that’s not really true. I just didn’t read the directions and cocked stuff up enough to eventually figure a casserole would be the easiest way out. I’m completely glad I went down that road though, because this dinner ruled.

I started off by making the garlic oil as directed in the original recipe (still enjoying the aftertaste- could this explain my lack of friends who live locally?). Into my stock went the carrot, thyme, garlic, and celery, 2 tablespoons of nutritional yeast, plus only 3 cups of water and 2 teaspoons of vegetable stock powder. Simmered for about 30 minutes on low heat, a lot of liquid was still lost. As a result, once I got to the stage of making the roux (I only used 1/3 cup flour) and adding the broth, I chucked in half a cup of white wine. Perfect. Then I flung my whisk across the counter. Three times. FMKS (clue: the last two letters stand for “kitchen skills”). At least nothing went into my eye for once.

In place of the chicken I opted for Redwood chicken pieces and halved Jersey royal new potatoes. I’d really never given that particular brand of faux chicken much of a chance until Vegan Bear used it in a Spanish chicken recipe at the London Vegan Pot Luck on Wednesday, and now I’m a little in love with its possibilities. I fried the protein and spuds together in the oil for about ten minutes and then tipped the lot into an oven proof dish. The gravy went on top and it went into a 150 degrees C oven for 15-20 minutes (just enough time to finish off the potatoes).

I didn’t write down my exact changes, but just in case you’re considering giving this a go I’ve got some basic numbers for reference: 2 packets of the Redwood chicken (300 g) and 250g new potatoes (1/2 inch pieces) made the bulk of the recipe. Everything else was as-is, save any changes I mentioned above (and I recommend the addition of wine).

The verdict? Good. I’m pretty much the world’s biggest fan of garlic, so it’s tough for a dish to ever go too far overboard so far as I’m concerned. Plus the method of cooking the garlic renders it less pungent and more creamy, not dissimilar to how it would taste roasted. The recipe is incredibly rich, with its high oil content, but fat is what brings flavour to the table. And I’ll always choose less of something not so good for me that tastes divine than more of something that’s a bit meh and is healthy.

If you like fried (which is one of the food groups) and garlic (the other food group) then get cracking.

That and the fact that these will be left out for my partner to find while I’m mid-flight over the Atlantic is going to have me pooping myself in tears of laughter for all 8 hours of my time in the air. (Happy Valentine’s Day, captain). Don’t ask.

Vegetarians and vegans know Valentine’s Day love just doesn’t extend to those in need of confectionery memos to communicate their true feelings. Sweethearts infamously contain gelatin, the veggie candy connoisseur’s loathsome adversary, leaving us no textual candy come February.

In case you haven’t heard of conversation hearts, they’re small heart shaped candies sold in the U.S. around this time every year. They’re imprinted with quirky messages from sappy (“UR mine”, “luv you”) to absurd (“whiz kid”) and disinterested (“go home”), and they get updated over time (wondering if “fax me” is still in the lexicon). It’s been more than ten years since I’ve seen one, so I’m probably beyond out of date.

The recipe I used was this one, only instead of gelatin I used agar, and instead of corn syrup I used liquid glucose. The act of heating the agar and water to mix evaporated some liquid, so I threw in a splash of soy milk to make up for it. Blue is bubble gum (I used a monin syrup to flavour these suckers), pink is vanilla, and yellow (coloured with turmeric) is lemon. The shapes are also a lot bigger (did you really think I’d go out in search of a tiny heart shaped cutter), but thinner so not too sickly.

The writing? Yes, I did it with toothpicks. Classy (err) and neat (not), but effective (partially). The theme? Veggie, dejected, your mom, and attitude. What did you expect?

Happy anti-valentine’s day, kids.

More reminiscent of dairy milk than what you’ll find in a can, fresh coconut milk is both cheap and easy to make, with the added bonus that you’ll also have a pile of fresh coconut meat with which to play.

If you want anything resembling authentic, ditch the tinned coconut milks and go find yourself a mature coconut and a toolbox. Here’s what you’ll need:

• 1 mature coconut
• A power drill or a hammer and nail
• Hammer
• Tea towel

1. Drill, baby, drill!

On the coconut, at the top, are 3 marks that make the fruit resemble a bowling ball. The one that’s slightly offset from the other two tends to be the softest, so this is the one you’re going to drill into.

If you’re using a drill, dig in (and if you have one, it’s definitely the easier option). Otherwise use a good sized nail and hammer it in. Just don’t follow the method in the picture above because, well, it’s just a picture. Put the coconut between your knees or have someone else hold it so it’s stable.

Once you’ve got a good sized hole you have two options: either shake the coconut water out into a bowl or put a second hole in the coconut to make the juice flow out easier. I always opt for the former.

2. Get our your frustrations

Once all the coconut water is out, loosely wrap the coconut in a tea towel and place on the floor (the more solid the surface, the better). Centre the hammer above the shell and bring it down hard. You’ll hear the shell crack, but you may have to hit it a few times for it to break open properly. Don’t worry if it shatters a little bit (but rinse the meat lightly to avoid getting any of the hard outer shell in the meat- it’ll do your teeth in later if you eat it).

3. Grate or blend the fresh coconut

Since you’re harvesting the coconut meat to make coconut milk, it needs to be grated. You can either use a coconut grater to get it out of the shell, or just bash it to smaller bits with the hammer so the meat falls out. The latter option is both easier and quicker, in my opinion, and also more fun because you get to keep breaking stuff.

Pull the meat away from the shell and grate it. To make thick coconut milk, add 1 cup of warm water to a large bowl with all of the grated meat, kneading the mixture for a few minutes. For coconut cream, halve the amount of water. Likewise, for a thinner milk add an extra half cup. If you have a high powered blender (I made this coconut milk with my Vitamix) then chuck the chunks of coconut and the water in (no need to grate first). You could use a food processor as well, I’d imagine.

4. Extract the milk

The water will turn milky white as you knead the coconut. Now find yourself a piece of thin muslin (or a nut bag) and strain the coconut meat, wringing out as much of the liquid as possible.

And voilà! Coconut milk, plus a bunch of fresh grated coconut for later use.

Reason number one, however, has nothing to do with perceived value in a brand; it’s all about flavour and control, consistency and general all-around mind-blowing awesomeness. Yes, because homemade tofu kicks the arse of anything you’ll purchase off the shelf.

Tofu used to disgust me. Then something happened to change my mind: I went to China. Cliché or not, my venture into bean curd as a food occured at at Gong de Lin restaurant in Beijing, and it’s one of my most treasured memories to date. But here’s a tip, folks: if you don’t know how to use chopsticks, I highly recommend you don’t begin your education with a steaming pot silken tofu. My wrists swollen and aggrieved by what I’d put them through, I still went on to try every tofu dish I could find, and returned home determined to devour as much bean curd as I could find.

Alas, I was disappointed. Nothing was the same as the tofu in Asia. One more trip to the Southeast a year or two later saw me return home once more with a new goal in mind. I would make my own tofu, and experiment ’til blue in the face to obtain a good, firm tofu that didn’t taste like the culinary equivalent of meh. Here’s one of my basic tofu recipes, using a Soy Quick, for a good, solid firm cake.

The tofu making arsenal

Tofu is really easy to make. Granted the supplies you need look like a lot, but I’d be willing to bet you have most of what you need already. The two things you’re not likely to have are a tofu mould/press and coagulant, perhaps soybeans too.

• Dried soy beans can be purchased pretty easily these days. I buy in bulk, up to 25 kilograms at a time, and store them in a supersized tupperware box under the sofa.
• A blender or soy milk maker is necessary to make the soy milk, which you need prior to curdling it to obtain the curds for tofu. I use a Soy Quick machine, but a blender should work fine too as the process is essentially one of blending soaked beans with hot water and straining to acquire soymilk.
• Straining tools are hence useful, since it helps you skim loose bits of soy pulp out of the milk and aids in separating the curds from the whey in the final stages.
• A large pot with a lid doubles as a receptacle for the fresh soy milk as well as a holding pen for the curdled milk before it’s strained.
• Some sort of coagulant, such as nigari or gypsum (calcium sulfate), is a must to turn your milk into curd.
• Plenty of thin muslin fabric or thick cheesecloth will help form the tofu as well as allow liquid to escape while holding the curds inside.
• A tofu mould lets you press the curd, once drained from the whey, into what you’d recognise as tofu. This is one piece of kit you probably don’t have and won’t find easily, but you can ghetto craft it out of old tupperware (drill some holes), find a cheap plastic one online, or go all out and find a nice wooden crafted one (my dad made mine because he’s awesome). You could even use a colander lined with muslin (you just don’t have a uniform block of tofu is all). Needless to say, you have many options.

Making the Fresh Soy Milk

Soak about 350g of soy beans (that’s 4 of the cups Soy Quick provides worth of dried beans) overnight. When you’re ready to make your soy milk, drain the water and rinse the beans. The soaked and drained weight of the beans will be in the 875g ball park.

Place 220 grams (approximately 25%) of the soya beans into the basket of your Soy Quick machine and fill the jug to somewhere close to the higher mark (about 1.5 litres of water). Run the machine on a single cycle, remove the basket, discard the pulp, and add another 220g soy beans to the basket. Run the machine again with these beans in the original batch of soy milk.

You’ll notice a layer of foam and random pulp on the milk when it’s done, which you can strain away if you want a smoother tofu.

So once the second cycle is finished, skim the foam away from the top of the milk, but don’t worry too much about getting everything out (you could be there for days). You just want to move the majority of the visible stuff away.

Keep it warm, buddy!

Pour the first batch of milk into a large dutch oven or pot and place a lid on to keep the heat in.

Repeat the soy milk making process above with the remaining two lots of soy beans to make a second batch of milk.

Coagulate that soy milk, kiddo!

Mix 3 teaspoons of flaked nigari with 200ml of boiling water, and set aside.

Once the second batch of soy milk is made, skim it and pour it into the pot too. The soy milk needs to be pretty hot here, so just to be on the safe side pop the hob on for a few minutes to get some heat through the fresh milk. Just be sure to stir the whole time.

When the milk comes close to a boil, remove from the heat and stir it very rapidly so you get something like a whirlpool effect going on in there.

Remove the spoon with which you’re stirring and slowly pour the nigari mixture across the spinning milk. Pop the lid back on and leave it for about ten minutes.

When you remove the lid, you should see something like this. Basically, any liquid left should be clear, a yellowish green colour. That’s the whey, and the white stuff is what’s going to become your tofu very soon. If any liquid is still cloudy, try mixing the pot’s contents a bit by shaking it about (though try avoiding my trick of just dumping it all over the stovetop). If that isn’t enough, add a little more coagulant and leave for another few minutes with the lid on.

Give yourself some space for error here. It takes a bit of experimentation to find what works best for you. Sometimes I mix nigari with gypsum to coagulate, and other times I use just gypsum. There are endless combinations to achieve a consistency you like best. Worst case scenario: you waste a little soy milk because it hasn’t all coagulated, or you over-coagulate the milk and end up with smaller curds and less yield. Not the end of the world.

Other coagulants include sea water, lemon juice, liquid nigari, and vinegar. My recommendation is to use nigari and/or gypsum (calcium sulfate) to make your own tofu. Lemon juice and vinegar won’t yield as much and the flavour won’t be quite the same. I order nigari online, and I’ve found gypsum in kitchen shops (in the beer making section).

Straining a-whey (har har)

Wow, that was bad.

At this point it’s best to move everything you’re about to do close to the sink, just for convenience.

I’ve found the easiest way to separate the soy curds and whey is with your basic mesh strainer and a tea cup. Pop the mesh into the pot, and use the cup to collect and discard the liquid.

You should be able to remove the majority of the whey with this method, but a little will still remain. That’s okay.

Alternatively, you can line a colander with your muslin or cheesecloth and strain the whole lot by pouring it in there. I personally just find my method quicker and easier.

Moulding the soy curd into tofu

Place your tofu mould into the sink and line it with muslin. Spoon the curds in (I use a smaller straining spoon to do this in order to drain away any remaining whey). You can just dump the whole lot in if you’re not a slob like me who’s likely to chuck the whole thing over the side of the sink.

Put the lid on/in the box and press with your desired weight. It won’t come as a surprise to most folks that the harder you press the tofu, the more firm it will be. If you want a really soft tofu, use little weight and little time.

To make a very firm tofu, I usually press the bean curd in the box for twenty minutes or so with a cutting board and a pot of water on top. Then I wrap the cake in a tea towel and further press it for at least ten minutes. Again, this will take some experimenting to achieve what’s the perfect consistency and texture to you for your chosen use of the end product.

Fresh homemade tofu

And there is is, folks! It seems more complicated than it is, but it’s really fast, economical, and easy. If you don’t have a Soya Milk maker, don’t fret. A blender and hot water is an acceptable alternative!

Refrigerate the tofu to store (it’ll keep on its own for a few days, but you can stick it in some liquid too). Be sure to try some while it’s still warm and freshly made though, because that’s when it’s at its best and I think you’ll certainly be able to taste a big difference. I know I can.

If you’re really interested in making your own soy products, I highly recommend purchasing a copy of The Big Book of Tofu, by William Shurtleff and Akiko Aoyagi. It’s how I got started making my own tofu, and it’s full of interesting and useful facts about our friend the soy bean.

Pizza, pizza, pizza! A few weekends ago I invited my in laws over for lunch, determined to feed them something they’d never otherwise eat. I realise it seems crazy to think there are people in this world who don’t consume pizza on at least a semi-regular basis, but there you go.

The more time I spend in a kitchen, the more confident I get serving first time experiments to guests (I’ll let you know about the upcoming disaster regarding this scenario, because I’ve surely jinxed myself now). This, a thin crust pizza without a tomato in sight, was luckily a real hit.

Fry’s chicken burgers sliced, plus a creamy blue sheese base, sprinkled with a handful of walnuts, makes for a father in law who pretty much leaves no leftovers behind. Is there no better feeling in the world than a certified omnivore boldly enjoying your weeegan food so much?

I’m still ironing out some wrinkles in the recipe, but it’s essentially a thinner version of my blue cheese spread (only made with a yoghurt and cashew base with extra herbs and spices added) on this beer pizza crust base.

Oh, and it’s worth mentioning the rate at which aforementioned father in law downed the homemade vegan cookies and cream ice cream we had for afters. The speed at which he consumed it was approaching that of light.

I generally place the okara in muslin and press as much liquid out as possible before storing the pulp in the refrigerator, sealed. I’ve never had any issues cooking with okara based on this initial prep, but I realise it’s difficult to follow a recipe when the liquid content of your okara may be slightly different than mine.

For that reason, I’ve decided to begin using dried okara in any recipes I write; below is the method for drying.

How to dry okara

1. Preheat your oven to around 100 C (210 F). The exact temperature isn’t important; you just want a low heat.
2. Place a mesh colander over a large bowl and line the colander with thin muslin. If you’re not worried about saving the soy milk you squeeze out then you can eliminate the use of the bowl (but it’s good to save for cooking).
3. Place your okara in the muslin, bundling the fabric up around the pulp. Squeeze as hard as is humanly possible in order to extract as much liquid is possible.
4. Turn the now somewhat dried pulp out into an oven pan and spread as thinly and evenly as you can. Place in the oven, mixing every 15-20 minutes until the okara has dried out. This could take an hour or 4 hours depending on how much okara is on your baking sheet. For this reason I recommend re-reading the bit about spreading as thinly as possible. Use a second tray if need be.
5. Once it’s dry, remove the okara from the oven and allow to cool. Place the crumbs in a blender or food processor to break up and store in an air tight container.

Variations: Vegan Pizzas are nothing to frown upon

A lot of people tend to frown upon the concept of a pizza without real cheese, but remember the most important part of a pizza is never the topping. If you have a good crust and a good sauce, you can only move forward.

For a quality pizza make sure you’re using some seriously high quality tomatoes. In fact, a marinara pizza with nothing more than a superb tomato base with some garlic and olive oil is a good place for any pizza fan to start.

Once you realise how amazing a pizza can be with so little on top, you’ll understand why it’s perfectly possible to have a delicious vegan pizza. Cheese is only one of 12,733,028 possible pizza toppings, so really it’s a bit limiting to insist on the same thing over and over. Try something new!

The trick to any pizza, beyond the sauce, is to choose simple toppings. Avoid the heaps and heaps of veggies and instead opt for just two or 3. Try things you’d never consider on pizza. Courgette/zucchini, for instance, is a fantastic pizza topping. How about thinly sliced aubergine/eggplant with a few drops of liquid smoke? Corn and pepper? Why not? You could also try thinking way outside the box and try a mashed potato and sausage pizza.

I like to add vegan cheeses to pizzas, but again that’s not always necessary. If you’ve got that base right, the possibilities are endless, and suddenly the cheese (whether dairy or vegan) becomes a possibility rather than a necessity.

What are your favourite vegan pizza toppings?

Raise your hand if you’re familiar with, whether as something you’ve said or heard, a variant of “…but doesn’t it all taste the same? I could never give up meat because I like flavour.”

Whether you’re an omnivore cooking for a vegan, a long-time veggie, or somewhere in between, here are a few ingredients see as key in adding that extra little bit of oomph to a dish.

A splash of this and a pinch of that

1. Anywhere you need that little bit of extra depth, whether in gravy, pies, stews, wherever, then Marmite is your friend. Obviously you realise it’s a must-have staple for anything revolving around your typical Sunday roast. The GVC loves Marmite and wants you to love it too, so check out their “tips to help any nervous Marmite virgins earn their brown wings.” Vegemite is another option, but not my personal preference.
2. I dismissed soy sauce for many years because I hadn’t had anything other than cheap darkened soy juice. Find yourself a quality soy sauce. In fact, find yourself many. There’s light soy sauce and dark soy sauce (milder but richer in colour), tamari, and a number of other options. Vegetables and stocks will come to life with a generous splash.
3. Nutritional yeast, also know as “nooch” in some circles, is a staple in any vegan’s store cupboard. It’s a deactivated yeast with a nutty flavour which complements salads, potatoes, sauces and dressings, stir-fries, and more.
4. Dark Miso pastes are another excellent method of adding a deep and rich flavour to a dish. Light miso is good too, but the sugar content is higher so be careful when using to “beef” up a meal!
5. A personal favourite is red wine vinegar, a condiment I use in gravy for a roast dinner. A little bit goes a long way and it adds a full and zingy taste to stocks and pies.
6. That said, I suppose it’s a little unfair to discount the all important red wine and white wine, both capable of lifting any dish from the depths of dullness to the height of flavour. If you’re cooking for a vegan or vegetarian, make sure they’re suitable though because lots of alcohol isn’t.
7. Dried shiitake mushrooms make a fabulous addition to any stock. Seriously. If these aren’t in your storecupboard, get yourself to an Asian Oriental (and yes I’ve been informed this isn’t a politically correct term in the US, but “Asian” here refers to a different part of the world. I use the term purely as a regional reference) grocer and get some.
8. The darkest of dark chocolate has the capability of adding some serious depth to a dish. Sound odd? It’s been used in Central and South American cooking for many many years.

What do you think?

What staple flavour enhancers do you use? If you had to re-write my list, what would you leave out? Include?

The following “recipe” is an idea that came to fruition in less than two weeks, nothing short of miraculous for me. I genereally opt for la-la land, an imaginary place where my creations are wholly unique, often produced, and loved by all. They just never enter the realm of reality.

Speaking of which, reality sort of sucks. I work long hours, sometimes 12 hour days, and find myself uninspired to cook and mainly just ready for bed. I need to create a cooking schedule for myself so I know to make time ahead of time. I need a stunt double, only one who limits themselves on the stunts and excels in the kitchen. I mean we have limited space you know.

Comfort food without the guilt, on a pizza

I’m not a super health nut. I eat my fair share of fat and sugar. I don’t feel guilty about this.

This recipe was conceived of before I became vegan, in the final year where I was slowly realising cheese shouldn’t play such a primary role in my meals. I was keeping my animal fats to a minimum. Cancer, diabetes, and heart disease run in my family so while I still consumed dairy, I was still careful.

The idea of a full-fat cheese pizza even then made my stomach feel week, making pizza a once-in-a-blue-moon treat because I knew it would only leave me feeling weighed down for the rest of the day. But then I started thinking “ah, but why should a pizza be tomatoes and cheese?!” And this sos and mash pizza was born out of these thoughts.

A great way to deal with leftovers

I don’t know about you, but root vegetables always seem to accumulate in my pile of stuff to use up. They sit around in quantities not quite large enough to feed two people, so they continue to sit around a little longer. Then there’s the packages of things, like veggie sausages, that come in three or five (yes, I cheated and got these at the store. Usually I like to make my own), so there’s always one or two left over.

Never mind. This vegan sos and mash “pizza” is a great way to use up any leftover root veg. Boil ‘em and mash ‘em and there’s your base for a unique pizza.

The components of a sos and mash pizza

There’s no need for a recipe for this. If you need a recipe, find your favourite pizza recipe and use it as a guide! There are 3 basic components to this pizza:

• Pizza base, bought or home-made
• A thick gravy (think the consistency of a tomato sauce for pizza)
• Mashed potato (give it some flavour by mashing it with some soy milk plus garlic, chives, butter, and/or other favourite mash ingredients…)
• Veg sausages, sliced and lightly fried

I’m confident you can work out how to put it together, but just for reference the stack goes base + gravy + mash + sausage. Bake following the directions for your pizza base.

I know this isn’t particularly exciting, but it’s a fun and unique take on the traditional British sausage and mash dinner. It’s fun to eat, filling, and very tasty. I definitely plan to make this again, but next time I might add a little sweet potato to the mix!

Aubergine is an unfortunate vegetable in many ways; it features a gorgeous and deep purple colour that cooks into a dull grey lump, it can be spongy, it can be unpleasant. But I realised it didn’t have to be yuck and that it simply had to be cooked right. I practised a multitude of different recipes and techniques and realised if cooked through well enough, aubergine is still a delightful vegetable whether deep fried, stewed, or burnt to a crisp in the oven. I was back on track in engaging a positive relationship with this purple veggie.

Then I discovered Baba Ganoush and I fell extra in love. Whenever someone tells me they dislike aubergine I always challenge their statement with this delicious, smoky, Arabic spread. Rarely do they claim to dislike aubergine after that.

Generally I would serve it with pitta bread or with a mezze meal. It is not something that often yields leftovers and it goes quickly. For some reason, however, my last attempt left a few tablespoons behind. Not one to throw food away unless it’s fuzzy, this instead became a base for toasted cheese a day or two after.

Er, so what’s the point of this post?

I simply that I want the world to love aubergine. I want everyone who has never had Baba Ganoush, especially those of you who claim to hate eggplant/aubergine, to either make or find some of this delectable dip. Eat it with bread, with vegetables, with couscous, with bulghur wheat, with salad, or as a spread! My point is this: it’s awesome. Seriously, go. Find some. Eat. Report back.

Baba Ganoush Recipes

Another fabulous way to enjoy this delicious dip is toasted or grilled on bread with your favourite non-dairy cheese.

Here are a few great recipes for Baba Ganoush to get you started!

• Baba Ganoush Recipe
• Baba Ganoush Vegetable Plate

An interesting concoction for bean curd lovers at least, this bastardised form of nigari tofu came to me after a discussion with someone about Vietnamese food. Vietnam is the only Southeast Asian country that uses dill (in fact, the Vietnamese use more fresh herbs than any of the others), and this is due to the past French influences (they are also the only country who can bake decent bread, a fact for which I also thank the French).

While not really a Vietnamese style dish in any way, I made the decision to create a tofu packed with this fragrant herb, with a little bit of tomato paste and ginger to accompany.

The end result, which quite clearly included a very stained piece of muslin (it washed out), was pretty impressive. I left the tofu for a couple of days so the flavour of the herbs would fully infuse, and then cut it into pieces and served it immediately after a quick fry. This would be a really cool hors d’oeuvre (think toothpicks and pretty serving trays, baby)!

There really isn’t a proper recipe for this bean curd, I’m sorry to say, but we’re looking at a couple of tablespoons of tomato paste, and inch or so of grated ginger, and at least 1/4 cup of fresh chopped dill. This is for a firmly-pressed block of tofu made with 1 litre of fresh soy milk.

I love my home made tofu; I obsess over it and would eventually like to consider marrying my Soyquick. I love trying different combinations of flavours in my tofu, but those flavours are always things I add after the coagulation process. That is I wait until the curds are separated from the whey and I then mix any additional ingredients into the curd. I have no idea how you are supposed to go about the process of flavouring bean curd. Is there a way you’re supposed to do it? I fear die-hard tofu fans would shout “yes! yes! There is a way! It’s called no extra flavour!”

Please don’t get me wrong because I love my tofu in all different shapes, sizes, and flavours. I adore it plain with a splash of tamari. I savour it smoked and served alongside a Sunday roast. I enjoy it heavily loaded with herbs and eaten raw as a picnic snack. But what I love the most is experimenting with soy in order to find new and also yum-tastic bean curd combinations.

…so I got the bright idea to add the flavours to the soy milk before adding the coagulant to curdle the milk. I feared it might not work, a worry which took me fast down the road to anxiety city. Why so nervous? Simple. I had only soaked one lot of soy beans, so if this experiment were to go belly up then that would have meant no tofu for me! A serious tragedy, I can assure you.

I didn’t attempt anything exciting. I simply added a stock cube and a tablespoon or so of liquid smoke flavouring to the water to make a very light broth. In that water I ground the beans (using the Soyquick machine) and immediately added nigari as a coagulant once the process was finished. I simply pressed the curds in my tofu press after that, and voila! Tofu!

The result? Very good. The flavour was subtle: a sweet and smoky bean curd fit for a king (though not a lion king, perhaps, for the cats didn’t seem too keen).

There’s a great store in Brighton called Infinity Foods (well, they’re great when they have things in stock, anyway) and I used to buy really firm and flavour-packed tofu from them whenever I was in town. They were packed with herbs and spices that made these blocks of bean curd into ideal picnic basket additions, lunchtime snacks, or sneaky delights on that midnight fridge run. That, combined with the fact that it’s nearly impossible to find decent, fresh tofu around here, is what eventually lead to the idea of purchasing a Soyquick machine and a tofu kit.

The Turkish tofu flavours

So here’s one of the experiments, a Turkish style tofu, made with aromatic cumin, garlic, and zesty Za’atar (a vibrant mix of spices that is also great with nothing more than olive oil and a nice bread). The tofu is made by a standard method of straining and pressing the bean curd, only the spice mixture is added before pressing.

Fresh bean curd

Bean curd mixed with Turkish spices

I realise not everyone makes their tofu in the same manner. Some of you probably make your soy milk from scratch and others are probably picking their jaw up off the filthy floor due to the fact that I am undoubtedly not doing this “right.” (I am open to suggestions, seriously). But the end result was delicious, and that’s what I’m all about!

I used this particular batch in a Middle Eastern inspired Sunday roast.

Anyway, back to that magic ingredient. We all have at least one or two of them, most likely more. What do I mean by this? I’m talking about those few necessities with which we couldn’t do without in our cooking. It doesn’t have to be something that we use every day, but something that is considered an important base ingredient in our kitchens. For me there are several such all purpose ingredients, ranging from spinach (my favourite green vegetable) to couscous and other grains.

But here’s one that really works across the board. It’s a very simple recipe that anyone could make up from vegan cupboard staples, and it makes an excellent addition to any broth.

Recipe Notes

Now I get how boring this one sounds. Really. Trust me, though; it may be basic, but basic can be good. Here are a few ideas for this simple condiment:

• Dip for grilled cheese
• Salad dressing
• As part of base broth for miso soup
• As part of base broth for any stew
• Add a dash of sesame oil for an Eastern flavour!
• Marinade for tofu
• Great for noodle dishes (try a soba dish with some fresh onions and pepper
• Turns any lame stir-fry into a treat

Homemade stocks are also a great way to use up those vegetables that have been sitting in the fridge for a little too long. You know the ones I mean. I’m talking about the veggies that are a little past their peak, but not quite funky.

“Little wha??” you say? Soldiers, marmite men, same thing. I call them marmite men just to be difficult (and by that I mean to annoy my husband, an effect with seems to have worn off over time. Damn…)

You see, overcoming marmite was one of my greatest and most proud achievements in the journey to integration into British life. Now it’s one of the things I miss most when I’m away (I often travel with a mini-container because it’s one of the greatest comfort foods to me when I’m back in the states).

Since moving to this country, so many doors have opened to me in terms of food. Typical English fayre may not be the most exciting of things, but there’s a great selection of fresh fruit and veg here (at prices much cheaper than in the US), and the influences from the rest of of the world seem to create an exciting rush of culinary delight. I think the main thing is that in supermarkets here, there are mainly food aisles with a couple of junk food aisles in between; in the US there are mainly junk food aisles with a couple of frozen vegetables in between.

*Ahem* and yes, I am the queen of generalisations…

Other discoveries? Crusty bread, fresh spinach (or fresh veg generally… I always only had frozen!), wine, a paradise of vegetarian food selections, roast potatoes, etc…

Now if only I could get past the instant gag effect brought on by breakfast tea…