Soups On

Since yesterday's post was obviously not the healthiest, or the best representation of my attempts to lighten my load for summer, here comes a perfect example of my favorite go-to meal for those warmer, but not-quite-hot spring days. I love miso soup during this time of year because it's as light as a soup can get without sacrificing flavor or balance. The broth is light but salty and slightly fishy thanks to its base of dashi broth and miso paste. The tofu helps to add a bit of protein, while mushrooms give the soup a little more depth and some meaty bite. Green onions round out the traditional ingredients by adding pungent flavor and some necessary crunch. You're not left over-heated or stifling, but refreshed and pleasantly filled, especially if you eat them with a nice plate of salted edamame or a side of sauteed baby bok choy.

Miso soup is a nice cheap soup to make, although an authentic and classic one requires some specific, albeit inexpensive ingredients. They're all under $3, last forever in your pantry or fridge, and are good for many, many servings (I get at least 6 huge pots of soup out of all the ingredients). And just because a few ingredients may be unfamiliar to you, doesn't mean that it's time consuming or difficult. In essence, all you're doing is boiling everything in a large pot of water for a few minutes to create what is called "dashi" broth. A proper dashi (which you may have seen Masaharu Morimoto make several times if you're an Iron Chef fan) is made up of two main ingredients: kombu (seaweed) and bonito flake. Bonito flake comes from what is essentially a dry, aged fish (not unlike the process used to make salt cod) that is then flaked off and packaged as a base for stock. It's the bonito flake that gives miso soup it's slightly fishy taste, while the kombu gives it that sea-like salinity. Once you've boiled those in water and removed them (about 10 minutes for the kombu and just 5 for the bonito flake) you have your dashi broth, and all that's left is to stir in the miso paste.

Voila, you've made your miso soup, and now you can throw in your favorite ingredients to make it as hearty as you'd like. I always make a point of having tofu, shiitakes and scallions, but there's a myriad other ways to finish a soup like this off. It's great for using up leftover greens, chicken, and shrimp, not to mention soybeans, broccoli and cabbage. The entire process takes less than 30 minutes and makes for excellent leftovers. You can also save time and money by taking advantage of your local Asian market. I like to buy dried shiitake mushrooms and keep them in my pantry, so all I have to do is reconstitute them by soaking in hot water until plump. And as a bonus, you can reserve the leftover mushroom stock and use it as you would vegetable stock, for soup, gravy or risotto. They're about 3 bucks for what would equal at least 20 dollars worth fresh, so it's definitely a great deal. Here's the basic recipe for the miso soup broth, feel free to take it and make ti your own:

Basic Miso Soup

6 cups of water

1 piece kombu (about 2-3 inch long piece), wiped with a damp paper towel

1 5 gram packet of dried bonito flake (about 1/2)

3 Tbsp shiro miso paste (white miso)

1. Bring kombu and water to a boil in a pot and simmer for 10 minutes. Remove kombu with tongs and discard. Add bonito flake and simmer for 5 minutes, then remove with a strainer or strain through a fine mesh sieve and return dashi stock to pot. 

2. Combine miso paste in a large bowl with 1 cup of hot dashi broth and stir or whisk until miso paste is dissolved. Add mixture to pot and stir to combine. Add any additional ingredients and serve. Enjoy! 

-Laura

How To Make A Salad Everyone Will Love

I firmly believe that salads are only side dishes and starters. I'm fully aware that there is a large contingent of people who think the more you throw into a bowl with lettuce, the closer you come to making it a main course. I'm sorry to be the barer of bad news, but allow me to rain on your parade for just a minute while I make a case for salads being a number of things, including awesome, tasty, refreshing and hearty, but not even close to a meal. Don't get me wrong, I love salad. If you ask my mother she'll tell you that I loved salad so much as a kid that I sopped up the leftover dressing with bread, and when I ran out of bread, I tilted the bowl to my lips and drank the remainder when I thought no one was looking. So it's not for lack of love for salads that I claim them merely a side or starter. In fact, I believe they serve a great purpose in the course of a meal, and in fact their false hope as a meal in and of themselves is hindering their true potential to be great and truly appreciated. And here's and abridged version as to why.

If we look briefly at salad history (yeah, that's right, I'm getting educational), salad as we know it today is a truly American invention. It came about in the mid-to-late 1800's when the upper crust food scene revolved around traditional French fare. There was nothing strictly American to speak of where food was concerned, and in order to compete with other upper echelon establishments, restaurants such as Delmonico's in New York had to come up with increasingly new and fabulous dishes to draw in the wealthy clientele (the only folks who would pay that much money for a bowl of tossed vegetables). And so, salad became known as the food of the rich on the east coast, with Waldorf salad coming out of the restaurant at the Waldorf Astoria, while California, as can be expected, was more accepting of the dish and ran with it. In fact, the first (and still popular) everything-but-the-kitchen-sink salad was created at the Brown Derby and called a Cobb salad. Salad as we know it today, heaped with everything from bacon and eggs to blue cheese and beets, came about as a way to get more than just the wealthy to order it. The less it seemed like a few tossed veggies and the more it seemed like a hearty dish, the more likely people would be to pay for it.


And so, this is the beginning of salad as marketing for profit. That doesn't actually bother me (well, maybe a little bit), but it bothers me that salad just became a vehicle for toppings instead of a dish that should be balanced and studied like any other. At least someone originally put thought into what they created, and why they added walnuts and cherries, or anchovies and cheese. You wouldn't just throw 14 things into a soup because you like them without thinking about how they pair, right? A salad should demand the same respect as any other dish, whether or not it's all veggie or topped with meats. It's unfortunate that a desire for "healthy eating" has made it socially acceptable to consume a massive salad as a meal, when I think we all know that once you're done topping that salad with everything under the sun, you'd be better off eating a steak as far as health is concerned.

Needless to say, no matter how good it may be, or how many meal-like things you top it with (buffalo chicken, grilled steak, marinated tofu, chopped chicken, etc...) you're still just eating something that could be considered a meal or main course, with a salad underneath (and you probably just crave that delicious topping). I don't think I've done a great job of arguing my point (I think your most fervent beliefs are often the most difficult to explain), but I hope that I've at least encouraged you to put some thought into your salad. I know I could have gone into salad as a palate opener, or an alternative desert, but I figure with some of the evidence I've laid out before you, you can come to your own conclusion. What I would like, is for you to give my favorite simple, but impressive salad a shot. Whether you're serving a salad lover, or someone that doesn't give them much thought, this recipe can impress almost anyone, and can be tweaked to your guests likes and dislikes. The greens can be whatever you like, but I tend to choose arugula or a bitter chicory like frisee, and top it with juicy pomegranate seeds, fresh clementines, and some kind of fried crunchy goodness. Sometimes it's goat cheese, and for my vegan friends, soft or silken tofu. The key is to use cornmeal (for crunch), that's spiced up for some kick. It's a great winter salad, and a wonderful alternative to beet salad when you're knee deep in roots and mash. Here's how to make the fried bits for yourself, since the rest is just assembly. I'd serve it with a simple vinaigrette, and let the combination of ingredients do the talking.

Cornmeal Crusted Tofu, Goat Cheese, or other melty bits

Goat cheese or soft or silken tofu, cut into 1 inch cubes
1 1/2 cups cornmeal
2 Tbsp smoked paprika
3/4 tsp cayenne pepper
1/4 tsp ground black pepper
1/4 tsp ground cumin
2 Tbsp salt
vegetable, canola or peanut oil for frying

1. Heat oil in a heavy bottom skillet so it's about 1 inch deep.

2. Combine cornmeal, paprika, cayenne, black pepper, cumin and salt in a bowl. Toss cheese or tofu in mixture, 4 or 5 pieces at a time until all pieces are coated.

3. Fry in batches, flipping each piece over until browned. Use to top a salad, or serve alone with dipping sauce Enjoy!

-Laura

It's a Wrap

Although I've pretty much completely decided where everything will go in my new apartment, what color the curtains will be, and exactly what kind of kitchen shelving I'll be buying (a real pantry!), I can't seem to get off my rear end to start packing. I don't know if it's because moving boxes are so damn expensive, or because I don't really have anywhere to put the boxes once they're full, but I just can't seem to get a start. Oddly, I don't seem to be having any trouble figuring out what to make with what's left in my fridge and cupboards. In fact, so far I've made some pretty successful dishes (except for, um...the one you'll read about tomorrow), out of the hodge podge of ingredients I didn't even know I had.

For some odd reason, I've always loved lettuce wraps. I know they're cheesy and simple, but they're so refreshing and messy to eat--in a good way. Whether it's spicy beef, chicken with cashews, or just sautéed veggies, something about a warm, juicy filling enveloped in a crisp, cool lettuce leaf, with sauce inevitably dripping down your hand, really appeals to me. But then again, I also like fondue, so I'm a bit of a culinary odd bird. The point of all this random information is that this weekend, as I surveyed my fridge, two things jumped out at me: tofu and iceberg lettuce. I use tofu sparingly, but when I do, I find that I really enjoy it, no doubt due to the fact that I tend to deep fry it. In this case, it occurred to me that I could make some great lettuce wraps out of small, diced pieces of silken tofu, coated in a spicy chili pepper flour, then fried until they're golden brown and delicious.

I'd never made tofu in this way when it was diced so small, but fortunately it turned out great. I'm a big fan of deep frying with silken tofu, because while the outside crisps, the inside becomes a creamy, molten white custard, creating a really nice contrast with the crunchy, fresh lettuce. Since I had a big bowl of leftover green salsa, I figured I'd give these lettuce wraps a somewhat southwestern twist. In addition to the chili, chipotle, and cayenne pepper in the tofu, I topped the whole thing off with a blend of grated cheeses, a spoonful of sour cream, and of course, several dollops of green salsa. As I bit into each wrap I thought about how proud I was of myself for coming up with a delicious recipe that was out of my comfort zone. Then, with sauce dripping down my arm and onto my elbows, I remembered that I hoped to move in about 2 weeks and had yet to pack a single box. Fortunately, I had three more wraps to keep my mind off of my lethargy for a little bit longer. Here's how to make them for yourself:

Crispy Tofu Lettuce Wraps

1 container silken tofu
3 heaping Tbsp flour
2 tsp chili powder
1 1/2 tsp chipotle or ancho chile powder
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
salt
pepper
vegetable oil (or your favorite light frying oil)
1 head of iceberg or Boston bibb lettuce
1 lime (optional)

Toppings: grated cheese, sour cream, green salsa

1. Combine flour with chile, chipotle, and cayenne pepper in a bowl with salt and pepper (to taste) and set aside.

2. Cut tofu into approximately 1/2 inch squares and carefully dredge in flour mixture. Meanwhile, heat the oil on high heat in a large, heavy bottom pot or skillet.

3. When the oil is very hot but not smoking, carefully add the tofu. You may have to work in two batches so the temperature doesn't drop. When the tofu is golden brown, set it aside on a paper towel covered plate to drain, and season lightly with salt.

4. Gently pull apart whole leaves from the head of lettuce. Add a few tablespoons of tofu to the center of the leaf and top with cheese, sour cream, salsa and a squirt of lime juice. Wrap everything in the lettuce leaf and take a bite. Enjoy!

-Laura

Fry Hard

Lest you believe that this is some sort of healthy food blog because my first food related post is about tofu, let me first say that I firmly hold the following truths to be self-evident:

1. All things are exponentially more delicious when deep fried
2. Just add bacon
3. Few things are more delicious than a perfectly cooked steak, medium rare
4. One of those things a is fresh out the fryer glazed donut. Or 6.

So why then, do I present myself to the blogosphere with a tofu dish? The answer is simple: I've had a culinary epiphany. You see, I previously took tofu to be a mound of watery, jiggly, cloudy water. Which is actually true, but like so many things in their raw form, tofu benefits greatly from a salty coating and a deep fat fry. And since it is good for you, I don't feel so bad about covering it in salt and tossing it in 4 cups of oil.

The recipe I use originated in Kylie Kwong's excellent cookbook, Heart and Soul: Simple Chinese Cooking. What first peaked my interest in the recipe was watching her make it on her show of the same name (it aires on the Discovery Home channel). Unlike most tofu cookery in the U.S., which is done with firm tofu, Kwong uses silken tofu, which is part of what makes the Chinese and Japanese preparation of tofu far superior to most American ones. This tofu is creamy in texture and less dense than the firm type, so it lends itself particularly well to deep frying and searing, creating a lovely textural contrast between the crispy crust and the soft molten interior. Dipped in sichuan pepper and salt and drizzled with lemon juice, the resulting dish is both comforting and refreshing.

So that, my friends, is my sell as far as this tofu recipe is concerned--it's crispy, salty, sweet and delicious. Not to mention, further proof that all foods benefit from a good old deep fry. Check out my version of the recipe below:


Deep Fried Silken Tofu with Sichuan Pepper and Salt

Tofu
1 block silken tofu
1 cup flour
salt
pepper
vegetable oil (or other light colored frying oil)
1 lemon (for garnish)

Sichuan pepper and Salt
3 tbsp sea salt
1 tbsp sichuan pepper corns

1. Mix salt and pepper into flour (in a smal bowl) to taste. Set aside.

2. Pat tofu dry with paper towel, but don't squeeze out all of the water, and cut it into about 1 1/2 inch blocks. Toss the tofu chunks in the flour mixture to coat.

3. Heat oil on high in a wok or dutch oven. When the oil is hot, carfully add the tofu, no more than 4 pieces at a time. Flip them over halfway through cooking so both sides are golden brown and delicious. Set the cooked tofu aside on paper towel to absord excess oil until ready to serve.

4. While the tofu is frying, heat a dry pan on medium high heat. Add sichuan peppercorns and salt. Dry roast in a pan unil very fragrant, about 3 minutes. Add mixture to a mortar and pestle and allow to cool, then grind into a coarse salt. Serve alongside tofu and lemon wedges as shown. Enjoy!

-Laura