Sounds gross, tastes great. I think if I ever opened a diner in which I was in charge of menu titles, that would be the restaurant’s name.

Half of what I didn’t eat straight out of the oven got served with rice, the other half with what you see in the picture: fried spring greens (collards) with onion, garlic, soy sauce, worcestershire, and a splash of balsamic vinegar.

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!

One of the most noteable things about the British psyche is its obsession with the weather. It’s not an idle chit-chat conversation point, either, but a topic of great interest. Being American, it took time to grow accustomed to weather talk being a highlight of an exchange as opposed to a sign that conversation has hit a dead end. It’s not just about conversation, however, as the weather here extends beyond that into an almost comical battle-for-control relationship with outdoor life.

My theory is that Brits conceive of weather as a force manipulated by their wardrobe choices rather than a system to dictate appropriate dress. Allow me to explain.

Come that first moderately warm day of late winter/early spring (and by “warm” I mean the sun is out and it’s not raining) winter coats are shed and replaced with light rainproof outerwear. This is regardless of temperature. The sky could be throwing it down the rest of the month, complete with chilly winds and general misery, but damnit it’s spring so you will dress in prescribed seasonal clothing!

Once summer is here the phenomenon grows to often absurd levels. So what if it’s only 12 degrees (just under 54 F) in July? It’s July and therefore I must wear almost nothing. See, my thought would be to wear the skimpy sundress if it’s warm outside; here you wear the skimpy sundress to make it warm outside.

Furthermore, I often see people wearing swimsuits out and about in my town. I live 30 miles from the sea and very few Brits have pools (very few). I’m curious if they’ve had any luck bringing the beach that much further inland as a result of personal attire.

My favourite is late fall, when it’s drab, the days are getting darker, and it’s genuinely time to pack away the summer shorts. But what’s the point when you still have a perfectly serviceable midriff-trim fringed cami to call forth summer’s sweltering rays (people practically die when it hits 70 F here)?

Anyhow, it’s been a bit of a hit and miss summer here in the Southeast, not unsurprising given recent years, but in the true spirit of being British (did I mention I’m a citizen now?) I’m going to behave as if it’s summer. You know what they say: if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

So I’m going to keep avoiding work, spend as many days out as much as possible before Autumn creeps in, and eat as many summer salads as I can before my imagination can no longer cope with the defense mechanism that keeps me from the truth: it’s cold and England will never be a tropical country.

Without further ado, a salad recipe (if you can’t be fussed to marinate tofu then buy a good, firm, flavoured tofu to use instead).

Sometimes I wonder (mostly out loud- yes, I think I have more verbal exchanges with myself than with any single human being) what food I would choose if I had to be limited to one basic dish for the rest of my years. You know, the old desert island scenario. Without a doubt my mind always comes to rest on the simple noodle.

Of course my island would come with grain mills, salt supplies, and a custom built kitchen complete with a stand mixer (kneeding dough is great for stress release, but “oy vey” say the wrists).

Recipe Notes

My preference in noodles for this sort of soup must involve wheat, whether it’s udon, ramen, or any basic dried wheat starch equivalent. I can’t exclude their rice nor buckwheat relations, however, and I fancy even the glorious sweet potato noodle would shine through here (note to self: find more sweet potato noodles).

My tendency with noodle based soups is to see them as a launching point for what I’m craving that day. This, like my many lunchtime noodle endeavours, is ripe to be augmented with mushrooms or topped with some wok-seared veggies of choice (hello, sugarsnap peas). I’m also a fan of pickled ginger as a garnish, just a few small slivers for an added zing.

I begin every post here in my head with the same basic sentiment: this is one of my favourite something-or-other. Alas, the dairy version of this mock halloumi was a dish I did love pre-vegan; thin slices of briny halloumi fried and doused with lemon juice and freshly grated black pepper.

It was only after I started making my own tofu that I realised I had enough control over texture and density that I could probably turn out a vaguely similar vegan version. I heavily salt the bean curds that get pressed into the final tofu product, but have no fear if you’re not ridiculous enough to have a 50kg box of soy-milk-to-tofu-ready soy beans under your sofa. So long as you really make sure to go crazy with the salt, your fried tofu vegan halloumi snackytime will go unscathed.

Tofu + Halloumi = Tofoumi

The Cypriot cheese has a very high melting point, meaning its consumers have a lot of wiggle room when it comes to cooking method. Halloumi can easily stand up to a frying pan or grill, so for this particular preparation it makes sense to use equally sturdy firm bean curd. If you get the cooking method right, with the right product, you can even expect a bit of the ol’ halloumi sqeak. Just be sure to be liberal with the salt, because that’s a major feature in the cheese counterpart.

I’m not going to try to kid anyone into thinking this is just like halloumi, but I think it’s a happy marriage between veganism and something close enough to make me happy.

Recipe Notes

• Try warming the dish first (under a grill, in a low temperature oven, that sort of thing). Tofoumi can be eaten at any temperature, but I think it’s best hot.
• If you make your own tofu, you can improve this dish by sprinkling some generous pinches of salt between layers of curd before pressing. If you do this, omit the step in the instructions to rub the tofu with salt.
• The other trick is really robust tofu, and that means as little liquid as possible. Press, press, press!

Fried spring onion filled potato pancakes are served in this vegan main topped with steamed spinach and smashed roasted garlic cloves, topped with crispy fried tofu matchsticks and stir fried onion. A lot less complicated than it sounds, it makes a filling meal for two (um, and you get to play with mashed potato with your hands. Hello, fun)!

I challenge anyone to turn up their noses at any dish making use of the creamy subtle taste of oven roasted garlic. And, well, if you do then that’s fine too because it’s more for me. To me, garlic is one of life’s greatest pleasures, as is spinach. Potato too. I’m a big fan of tofu to boot. Who am I kidding? I just like to eat.

Recipe Notes

Remember: if I can manage a recipe without wearing more than 10% of its ingredients by the time step one commences, then it’s likely doable by most other folks too. Translation? This is doable by all of you, despite the long list of steps.

Okay, so I get paranoid regarding whether or not I’ve made instructions understandable. If I haven’t scold me. If I have, and you’ve been successful, tell me what you think. Tell me what you think even if you don’t try it. Tell me a story.

Potato starch may not be part of your kitchen pantry repetoire, but I recommend it highly. It’s one of my favourite starches for frying because its texture can be both crispy and gooey at the same time. Alas, if you don’t have it then corn flour should be okay too. You don’t exactly need to coat the potato in anything before frying it, so don’t sweat the small stuff like that. I just like the texture, but many potato pancakes have been thrown on a skillet in this world, sans starch.

Introduced to Goa by the Portugese, this vegan version of the popular Goan chicken dish features a milder version of a traditionally spicy marinade. Extra firm tofu is baked to perfection, topped with the sharp, full-bodied (and chili-free) coriander based paste. Enjoy with a simple salad of mixed lettuce, raw cut onions, and tomatoes doused with salt and fresh lemon juice.

Recipe Notes

Make sure you press as much liquid as you can out of your tofu. You want solidity here because, remember, the more water you get out of the tofu, the more it will soak back in. The blocks of tofu should soak up all of the cafrael marinade liquid (there’s not a lot, but it’s enough to flavour it substantially). Sometimes I like to cheat and poke holes with toothpicks into my tofu encourage its marinade to really get up close and personal.

And by the way, you don’t need to be that anal with tofu sizes/weights. Just get something vaguely in the ball park.

And now, onto the deliciousness that is cafrael tofu. Seriously, get your bottom in gear and make this ASAP.

Basic, filling, awesome and, well, awesome, everyone needs a basic recipe for miso soup. This vegan version swaps the traditional bonito dashi for a shiitake broth alternative, with the added bonus of soft tofu clumps stirred in (think extra soft eggy flavoured spaetzel in soup). If you’d rather, omit the tofu cream and simply add a few cubes of bean curd. Feel free to throw some big, thick udon noodles in there too!

Anyhow, below is a quick run down of my main uses for the prolific soya bean, complete with numbered pictures (hey, I love pictures).

1. Firm tofu coagulated with nigari and gypsum

Nigari coagulated tofu has by far the best flavour, but gypsum bulks it up a bit, so I tend to use a combination of the two in the process. I use a homemade tofu press crafted by my father, draining and lightly pressing the curd for up to an hour before removing the block, wrapping it in a tea towel, and popping it in the fridge.

If I want a more firm tofu, I press it further using the usual techniques. I use fresh tofu fairly quickly, so I tend to skip the step of storing it in water in a closed container (but I will store it this way if it’s going to be around for a few days).

2. Silken tofu coagulated with nigari

This is tofu which hasn’t been pressed, and the nigari imparts a lovely sweet taste which makes it ideal for simple pudding dishes and in light soups.

3. Soy milk

I make my soy milk with approximately 1.5 litres (6 cups) of water per 190g (1 cup) of soy beans (dried weight), or a water to bean ratio of 6:1. This makes a very thick and creamy soy milk which yields more tofu with less liquid (for those who use a soyquick machine, that’s two lots of bean per one lot of water).

4. Dried soy beans

This is the base product, dried and waiting to be transformed into soy milk. Pre-soaked they’re quite small, but increase in size by about a third or half when soaked overnight. Once soaked, they are ground with water and strained. What comes out of the stainer is soy milk.

5. Fresh okara

What’s left behind in the straining process is okara, or soy pulp, a highly nutritious source of fibre which can be used in a whole range of dishes. If you look closely, you’ll see some whole soy beans in there, to give an idea of what they look like once soaked.

6. Dried okara

And finally I’m often left with heaping quantities of okara, hence I dry it in the oven so it keeps. It can be reconstituted later and/or added to baked goods.

It’s time for a killer vegan breakfast treat.

I’ve been feeling a bit of a cold the past week, not to mention the fact that I’ve hit the inevitable monthly mark on the calendar where my stomach views the world as an all you can eat pig out. These things combined are treacherous (ask my partner, whose finger I nearly bit off on Saturday whilst trying to devour food between his fingers) because they both make me feel the need to eat. Okay, not just eat, but eat a whole lot of everything. Specifically this is a time when I crave a good vegan breakfast, but I also had some samosa skins I needed to use.

And I mean, come on, who hates a fry up? And who hates deep fried? Now imagine combining the two. For realz. Vegan breakfast in a deep fried parcel!

I’ve taken all the best bits of a vegan fry up (my favourite parts of a vegan breakfast anyway): mushrooms, scrambled tofu and facon, and mashed them together into a filling for a samosa. If you have different breakfast favourites, by all means use them instead. Vegan sausages crumbled, tempeh, spinach, you name it and I bet it’d be kick-arse in these samosas. The samosa skins in this recipe were bought, but you can also make your own samosa pastry if buying them pre-packaged isn’t an option.

It’s oyster, not meat!

Anyone who knows me can attest to my obsession with Southeast Asia, my own personal respite from the never-warm-enough climate of Greatish Britain. I’ve yet to visit the country as a practising vegan, but even the vegetarian diet seemed tricky during my travels. Very little dairy is used, so it wasn’t so much the typical “is there rennet in the cheese” issue as it was the argument that fish is not, in fact, vegetarian (which reminds me, there’s a word for that: pescetarian. Yes, that’s right. Vegetarians don’t eat fish).

I could only take so many arguments regarding the “fact” that oysters don’t count as meat, so I’d settle for simple pasta to avoid conflict and chance. My most recent visit, however, introduced me to some vegetarian-friendly establishments I’d yet to try previously. Thus began my love affair with the region’s cuisine, my constant attempt to get it right in my own kitchen. And honestly, making vegan Thai food isn’t difficult at all.

A sexist meal?

You wouldn’t be the first to question the title of this Thai dish, pondering the whereabouts of its female counterpart. “Down with this patriarchal snack,” you might say, but the seemingly most frequently told story speaks quite loudly for feminism (albeit slightly on the passive aggressive side if you ask me, which you probably didn’t). It goes something like this: A mother is disgusted with her son in law’s arsey behaviour and serves him these eggs as a metaphorical representation of what’s going to happen to his man vegetables if he doesn’t snap to it.

And with that, here’s the recipe.

On the day I first made this, my husband arrived home for lunch to my question: would he eat a sandwich if I made it? I informed him it would be good but that I didn’t want to say what it was until he took a bite. I wanted to know if he’d be able to guess what I was mimicking without me having to say.

And upon that bite he was as impressed as I, asking “where’s my other sandwich?”

Picnic fodder, baby!

Recipe Notes

Welcome to the world of not too many ingredients. For that reason, I take the opinion that there’s not so much room to take away with this vegan egg mayo. The turmeric adds colour, the black salt an eggy flavour, the mustard a bit of a tang (okay if you must you could probably live without this ingredient). The tofu subs for the egg and the vegan mayo plays its usual role. By the way, I use Plamil vegan mayonnaise. It’s the best, at least here in the UK.

By all means, add things, just like I added chopped up dill pickle (about a tablespoon).

This tofu egg salad recipe makes only enough for a single sandwich, so get out your maths brain to calculate just how much you’ll need.

However…

A foolproof way to remedy a creative block in the kitchen

Oh, that’s easy. Just have a clever dad. Go on.

I have a plastic tofu press which yields a block of tofu just about large enough for one. It was great when I first bought it because I’d never made tofu prior to that point and it was a novelty. But time went on and I realised it wasn’t a very good product for a serious tofu lover. You just can’t make enough with it, for one, and it just isn’t that high of quality. It works but it’s the most bottom line press you can get, in my opinion.

I looked and looked for something wooden, something bigger, something that represented my mind’s image of the ideal tofu press. I couldn’t find it.

So I rang my father (who’s all clever and stuff with making things). I then e-mailed him some images and measurements and he knocked this up, adding a few ideas of his own. A couple of weeks later a gigantic box arrived on my doorstep and I became the proud owner of a certifiably awesome tofu press. How cool is that?

Design requests

My biggest request was a lid with a good sized handle that would sit outside of the box when pressing thin blocks of curd. This is not a traditional design, but I wanted it because the aforementioned plastic kit contained a lid which was just crap.  It was light and sat improperly on the block, with very little accessible surface area on which to place an object to aid in pressing. This meant tofu pressed with an inconsistent texture (like pockets where the liquid was not evenly pressed out).

I wanted ultimate control. The new box allows me to press the tofu to the point I determine is right for what I want as an end product. I can easily stack books or a cutting board with a bowl of liquid on top of the handle to press more (for super firmness).

Second, it’s bigger. Much, much bigger, and with a whole lot of holes for the whey to drain away (awhey? Har har. Sorry). I can press ten times the amount of bean curd as before. That’s a lot.

Yum. Can’t get enough of it. If you hate tofu, you haven’t had it fresh.

And you know how chocolate milk always tastes better from a cardboard carton than from plastic? The same applies for tofu made in a wood press versus plastic (try the chocolate milk thing though, I’m serious).

I think it would be fair to guess most people know you can find tofu in both firm and soft varieties, but what’s the meaning behind these differences? What’s the difference between these products and why do they exist? Let’s first look to two important countries when it comes to bean curd production: Japan and China.

The textures of tofu

Chinese tofu is generally what is being referenced when someone is talking about extra-firm tofu, while regular tofu is more in line with Japanese tofu. The main difference is that the Chinese variety has more water pressed out of it, so it is dryer and more meaty in texture. It’s also very easy to cook with in Western cuisine because of its consistency. Japanese style tofu, on the other hand, is generally a little softer and can be enjoyed simply on its own (this would normally be a medium-firm tofu). Both of these types of tofu are fairly common in the West and both have their benefits.

The ways in which Japanese tofu (regular) and Chinese tofu (firm) are made differ slightly. Chinese tofu is generally coagulated with calcium sulfate while Japanese tofu is usually made using nigari as a coagulant. This isn’t necessarily a hard and solid rule because it’s mainly based on geography. China’s in-land mountains provide the calcium sulfate (also known as gypsum in the West) while Japan’s coasts allow them the sea water needed to extract nigari (also known as bittern). Coastal Chinese also make tofu with nigari.

Recipes and ideas for firm and extra firm tofu

Medium (Regular) Tofu Recipes:
• Matthew’s Delicious Tofu
• Stir-fried Tofu with Zucchini

Firm and Extra Firm Tofu Recipes:
• Caramelised Tofu Recipe
• Sesame Baked Tofu
• Thai Coconut Tofu Recipe

What about silken tofu?

Silken tofu is produced by coagulating a thick soy milk and it is a different process altogether. Regular and firm tofu are pressed in order to remove excess water, but silken tofu never goes through this process. Instead it is simply poured into a container and allowed to become firm on its own. This means, unlike in tofu traditionally used in the west, the curds and whey don’t get separated. Essentially silken tofu is so silky because it has a lot of water left inside.

Recipes and ideas for silken tofu

• Vegan Butterscotch Mousse Pie
• Mini Tofu Quiches
• Silken Tofuand Carrot with Soy-Ginger Sauce
• Grilled Tofu Salad

Did you know…?

An interesting fact: the more water a block of tofu retains, the less flavour it will soak up in cooking. That’s why a lot of recipes tell you to press bean curd first! So if you’re buying the crappy supermarket stuff and want to cover the stale taste more, buy the extra-firm and press it even more!

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.

Recipe Notes

Saag Paneer is one of my all-time favourite Indian dishes, and it’s one which is easily adapted to a vegan diet by simply substituting a good quality tofu for the paneer. The tofu was made using a SoyQuick soy milk maker. The recipe for the garam masala blend is similar to this tofu recipe (but halved); Make the tofu as usual, but add 1/2 teaspoon of garam masala and 1/8 teaspoon salt to the curd instead of the other ingredients before pressing. If you don’t make your own tofu, don’t worry; feel free to use something store bought (just add some garam masala to the curry toward the end of cooking).

This is a very easy vegan recipe that I’d recommend to anyone. You can use your favourite spinach curry recipe (goodness knows there are billions, if not trillions). If you would like a little added richness then add a few tablespoons of vegan cream and some rich vegan butter (e.g. Vitalite).

Despite the fact that my Soyquick caught fire a few weeks ago (!!), I have not had any more problems and have got back to fulfilling my regular fresh tofu cravings.

Once you have your tofu, this recipe is both easy, tasty, and nutritious. The key, like with many things I cook, is heaps of ginger and boat-loads of garlic. I am perfectly happy to give up the concept of friendship and company if it means I can ingest copious amounts of garlic. I will never have to fear vampires.

The base is a simple vegan-friendly dashi, made with dried shiitake mushrooms. As I didn’t use the soaked mushrooms with the tofu recipe, I saved them and sliced them over a simple salad of edamame, broad beans, carrot, garlic, and ginger.

There is no need to be precise with ingredients for this recipe because it’s so simple and can be dealt with via constant taste-tests throughout the creation process (broth not salty enough? Throw in some more soy sauce). Be creative and experiment! I’m sure this would also be lovely with some freshly sliced spring onions on top.

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).

With my Abel and Cole deliveries I receive a weekly newsletter (available online), each containing a few simple recipes. I was grateful for the newsletter that came with my first box because they sent me fennel and, believe it or not, I’d never tried this vegetable before. Anyhow, the newsletter contained a recipe for orange-fennel salsa, which is for the most part what my recipe is based on (I have only adjusted some ingredient uses and quantities).

When people heard I had never consumed fennel (aside from the seeds in little bowls by the door at Indian restaurants), they have been astounded.

“But you love liquorice!” they would say. “How can you not have tried fennel?!”

The truth is, I have been told many times I should try it, but neither my husband nor his kids are keen on it so I figured it wouldn’t be worth bringing home. I must remind myself of a couple of things, the first being that what I just mentioned is a very poor excuse for not trying new things myself. The second is that they will try anything once, and I’ve managed to get all of them to eat foods they would never have considered otherwise (which is not surprising as their general view of eating a vegetable is boiled and served with one of two condiments: salt and/or butter).

There’s also a third reason, that being if I’m going to bust my arse in the kitchen then everyone will bloody well eat what I put on their plates. This too is something I think they mostly understand.

But do not worry, for there is hope with this recipe for die-hard fennel haters. If the flavour is too overpowering for you, leave this salsa to sit for a few hours. The flavour will mellow substantially, to the point where the potent aniseseed flavour of the fennel is brought down to a very mild level. On the other hand, if you love this flavour, serve the salsa as fresh as possible.

This is another dish from Southeast Asia that I recently learned often contains that fantasic Southeast Asian vegetarian-pisser-offer: fish sauce. It was after my second trip to Vietnam that I realised this dish (which I ordered every day) most likely contained fish sauce. It’s something to which I hadn’t given any thought, but there’s no point in worrying about the past. Rather, I had my own go at something basic and simple, and this was the result.

Recipe Notes

This super-easy vegetarian recipe only takes ten or 15 minutes, if that, and makes a healthy and yummy snack or main meal accompaniment. You could serve it as a main meal, but it would be suggested to increase the quantities a bit, naturally.

Using my recipe for Turkish style tofu, plus some traditional Sunday Roast ingredients, here’s a very easy and basic vegetarian Sunday roast with a little bit of added Middle Eastern flavour.

While argan oil may lose some flavour when heated to high temperatures, it was my choice of oil for making the roast potatoes for this roast. In future I would probably not use argan oil again for a roast, for a couple of different reasons: it’s expensive, and while it does add some flavour it’s not terrible noticeable unless you know what you’re tasting for.

The roasted tofu was simple as can be. Cut the block into two, coat it with some oil, and stick it in the oven with the potatoes. Same amount of time (ish). Just keep an eye on it to be sure it isn’t a charcoal colour. You know, to a char.

The peas and carrots? Also simple. For each cup or two of veg, add tablespoon of dill (I used dried), some mint, a clove of garlic, and 1-2 tablespoons of lemon juice. Fry the ingredients up in a bit of olive oil (or butter) for a minute and then add them to the already-cooked peas and carrots.

Last, but certainly not least (as it’s a roast staple) we have the gravy. Again, this one was dead easy! I just used a basic stock, thickened with corn flour, with a couple of tablespoons of pomegranate molasses and a third of a cup or so of orange juice also added. Add a splash of white wine for a little extra depth, if desired.

…so with just a little bit of extra effort, but certainly not a lot, I managed a new take on the concept of the traditional Sunday roast. Maybe these types of flavours aren’t to your liking, but regardless of that it’s proof that it is possible to vary on tradition when it comes to food.

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.

Some foods are difficult to translate once you lose the dairy, so it’s always great when you come across an old dinner friend that’s been made vegan or vegetarian friendly. This tofu enchilada recipe, an adapted Paul McCartney recipe, is completely vegan and even includes a recipe for tofu sour cream.

If you’re after a simple meat substitute, perfect for when you have those picky meat-eating guests over, this recipe for tofu meatballs is a unique veggie way to dress a pasta dish. This tofu meatball recipe is also completely vegan. This recipe for Tofu Balls comes from one of the Moosewood cookbooks and features the use of eggs, so is not vegan.

The Vietnamese have a real way with tofu, so if you’re after a Southeast Asian tofu recipe then I’d highly recommend checking out some Vietnamese tofu recipes. This Vietnamese Tofu Salad recipe is both simple and nutritious. If you want something a little bigger, try this recipe for vegetarian pho, a Vietnamese noodle soup which generally contains meat. You can use either tofu or a mock-meat substitute instead. If you want a real Vietnamese food treat, try this quick and easy recipe for Dau Hu Xa Ot, or deep fried tofu with chilies and lemongrass. This tofu recipe is both easy and tasty, and will shock your tastebuds into a desperation to try more Vietnamese vegetarian food.

So what’s next? Everyone with any sense of food decency knows there are a billion and one things you can do with tofu to make a meal, but what about pudding?? What about a great vegan tofu dessert recipe? If you’re after silken tofu recipes then these desserts using tofu might be just perfect for what you’ve got in mind. For a quick and easy tofu dessert recipe, why not try this Raspberry Tofu Dessert, courtesy of the UK Vegetarian Society. Equally as easy, you could always try a classic chocolate tofu pudding recipe. Finally, here’s a tofu cheesecake recipe to tempt your tummy!

Tofu has an insane number of uses, and I’m glad to see that people are experimenting with it in their diets, vegetarian or not. I hope the trend continues to grow and more great recipes come out of this fantastic soya protein.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you’ve found something to keep you busy in the kitchen!

After a lengthy holiday in Southeast Asia, I’m back and ready to cook (well technically ready to sleep, but I’ll get around to both at some point). Sorry for the lack up updates being lazy and not updating while I was adventuring away.

The easiest country in which to be Vegetarian in Southeast Asia is easily, for me, Vietnam. A lot of people assume that since these countries are Buddhist, they are veggie-friendly. This is not the case, especially in Thailand where things like fish and oyster sauce are used in just about everything from sweet chilli dips to curries. In fact, the “vegetarian” sections of menu will often list things like “vegetables in oyster sauce.” Go figure.

I won’t dwell on that much, because having been there before I knew this was to be expected. But there is one thing I will dwell on, and that’s the quality of bean curd in the region. In Vietnam I ate it nearly every day, sometimes more. Very early on I made the decision that as soon as I got home I would order a SoyQuick soy milk maker and a tofu press. Now the trip has come and on, I’m back home, and have received my new toy. This morning was my first attempt at its use, and with the first batch of soy milk I decided to try to make some home made tofu.

Using the SoyQuick was dead easy and it really makes the soy milk in a speedy manner (the beans, of course, have to be soaked first), but I thought the clean-up was a bit tedious (but then again it was before sunrise — hey, I’m jetlagged). I followed the instructions (*gasp*) to coagulate the milk and poured it into some muslin in the tofu press, along with a tad of salt and some liquid smoke flavouring. The instructions instructed (fancy that) to press for only 15-20 minutes, but I left it for a couple of hours. I’ll admit this was mainly due to laziness over anything else.

The end result is pretty good for my first go, I think! I’ll be sure to experiment with lots of nifty flavours and such over the next weeks, so stay tuned!

I’m constantly trying to come up with recipe ideas which incorporate tofu, but the problem with a lot of tofu recipes is they use tofu as a secondary ingredient. I want ways to eat this glorious food and enjoy it in its own simplicity because, and I think people fail to realise this, a nice fresh tofu tastes good. This tofu teriyaki recipe is a great way to enjoy bean curd on it’s own, with a minimal list of ingredients and time necessary to prepare.

I love the additional of baked tofu steaks. I’ve included two possible marinades from which to choose, but be creative with these!