Baked Tofu

Sandra and I incorporate tofu into our diet pretty regularly. We're not vegan or vegetarian or anything like that, but as people who need to watch the stats of what we eat, we really like tofu's stats, and as people who like yummy things, we sometimes find tofu super-yummy.

But we do prefer it firm, and maybe a bit crispy. When it's nice and solid, tofu is something we dig and genuinely crave. When it's soft and smooshy, it's something we eat with vegetables and go "Yum, these are delicious veggies. And also there is tofu."

When we lived in Colorado we had steady access to an excellent convenience product: the tofu "cutlet" by House Foods. This is a fried block of tofu, just under 7 ounces, and it's what tofu is like once you cook much of the excess water out, so it's already yummy and gets even yummier when you slice it thick and cook it even more, grilled or pan-fried or what-have-you.

And this was the best thing that happened to our tofu consumption. We were already fine with consuming the stuff regularly, but this tipped the scale from "tofu we're okay with" to "tofu we look forward to," which is a big deal when you're trying to stick to any kind of regimen. We started doing tofu dishes twice as often if not more.

We also found other brands (and House Foods makes other styles) of fully-cooked tofu, but every one of them was flavored in some way: garlic or teriyaki or ginger or whatnot, and all of those had extra salt and other additions, and we do stretches of trying to be extra-careful with sodium. We're bad at that, but that's not tofu's fault, Mainly it's the fault of salt being delicious, and included in everything.

So the other styles of cooked tofu were not ideal, but that was okay. We had the House Foods cutlet, with no added salt. It wasn't even a specialty-market item; we could get it at our neighborhood grocery stores (King Soopers, a ridiculously-named local part of the Kroger chain).

Every time I cooked with the cutlets, I thought to myself "I bet I could just bake some regular tofu and get a result much like this." The House Foods cutlet is fried, but it doesn't taste fried and it's lean and non-oily, so I assumed I could get there with baking.

But I never bothered because it was easy to buy the cutlets and they weren't too expensive.

And then we moved to Pennsylvania, which has been good, but ... our regular supermarkets don't have the House Foods cutlet. There's probably somewhere in the valley we can find them, but if they're not in our regular markets, they won't be part of our regular fare. Our regular market (a Wegman's, which is a very groovy store) does have the salty flavored kind, for about $4 per 7-ounce chunk, and we've had those and enjoyed them ... but we tend to use two chunks per meal and we'd still rather flavor them as we choose, and $8 for a single meal's protein should be a nice frickin' piece of steak, frankly. Like I said: we're not vegetarians, so we can't be had over that particular barrel.

And I always meant to try baking the tofu myself.

And I always wondered: how much weight would the tofu lose to that kind of hyper-firm cooking? Tofu, as you already know if you cook with it, starts out as a sponge full of water, even the Extra Firm stuff is just a slightly less floofy sponge.*

So the answer is half. A 14-ounce chunk of tofu, baked down into the nice firm stuff we love, becomes a 7-ounce chunk (more like 7.2, but near enough).

And it's as easy as I supposed. I feel silly for not doing it sooner, but such is the sexy lure of convenience tofu. The "recipe," such as it is:

S. John's Super Groovy Baked Tofu Prep Time: 5 minutes if you're moving in cartoonish slow-motion to amuse a toddler. Otherwise, less. Cooking Time: 2 hours Ingredients: Two 14-ounce packages of fresh Extra Firm tofu. Equipment: Knife, nonstick cookie sheet or pizza pan, tongs. Preheat oven to 325°F (163°C). Press the excess fluid from the tofu (on a stack of clean cloth towels or paper towels; don't be shy about gently squeezing the fluid out). Carve each of the chunks into four thick rectangular slabs. Arrange on the nonstick baking sheet. Bake for two hours, turning the chunks over with the tongs twice during the course of baking. The finished chunks should be dry-looking and gently golden. If they're pale or a bit damp-looking, turn them again and give them another 30 minutes. This happens when the initial squeeze of excess fluid wasn't quite squeezy enough, but it's an easy fix. Yield: around 14.4 ounces of baked, super-firm, extra-good tofu which you can later pan-fry or do other delicious things to. (Version 1.1, Revised 10-7-2020)

There are, of course, a lot of baked tofu recipes on the Web, and I read a ton of them before this undertaking, but most of them were fixated on making the tofu crispy out of the oven, and so usually involve shorter baking times at higher temperatures. My goal with this is something I can bake in advance and then fridge for pan-frying at some later time, so I opted for lower, slower baking for a nice even, gentle browned thing. They do still come out crispy-ish, but ... they won't stay that way once you fridge them.

More important, they have exactly the density and texture I was hoping they'd have. And a finished serving (our version of a serving) costs $1.79 instead of $4, plus whatever it takes the run the gas oven for two hours but don't trouble me with details.

My next quest will be finding out what alternative I can achieve in the microwave, because right now, baking something for two hours is no big deal. There's snow on the ground outside and the heat feels good. But come summertime I might really not want to have the oven on. If I have any luck with nuking or slow-cookering or anything else, I'll let you know. And now, here's a photo, because I don't like doing a blog-post without a photo. Even if it's a photo of brown chunks in a brown bowl.

Hope this finds you well. My inbox, as always, is open.

You've heard of food porn? This tofu hasn't.

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*  The idea that the fresh stuff can (for example) substitute for chicken breast only makes sense if your idea of the density of "chicken" comes from Marshmallow Peeps.

My Favorite Holiday Stuffing

Another recipe rescued from the Blue Room, a season-appropriate follow-up to the last one:

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This is a pretty old-fashioned recipe. No prefab 'stuffing crumbs' - just fresh homemade bread with better flavor, texture, and price. Simple ingredients and simple preparation. Take this and run with it: modify, add, and experiment to your heart's content, and to the joy of those you love.

The Basic Recipe

• 2 sticks (a half-pound) of butter
• 1 large onion, chopped
• 1 tablespoon thyme
• 1 teaspoon sage
• 1 level tablespoon salt
• 1-1/2 teaspoons black pepper
• From 2-1/2 to 3 lbs of fresh bread, cubed or torn
• 1 bunch celery, chopped or sliced thick
• 3 cups cold, unsalted liquid (broth, milk, etc)

Melt butter in saucepan and sauté onion, thyme, sage, salt and pepper until the onions are barely tender. Place celery (uncooked) and bread cubes in a very large mixing bowl.

Remove onion/butter/herb blend from the heat and add the cold liquid to it. Pour mixture over bread/celery mix, and blend thoroughly and gently with a wooden spoon or wooden spatula (or a pair of them, tossing it like a salad).

Bake in greased foil or casserole pan(s) for 30-60 minutes in a preheated 325-degree oven, until the stuffing reaches an internal temperature of 165F or has the crust you want (whichever comes last). If you're feeling old-fashioned, you could also stuff a turkey with it and bake it directly in the bird, but most folks agree it's safest to bake the dressing separately. The recipe makes about a gallon of stuffing, enough for a family of eight as part of a holiday feast.

Choosing The Bread

Fresh (or gently stale) homemade bread is ideal, and I recommend it strongly. If you're uncomfortable with bread-baking, however, any bread with a bit of substance to it can work. A reliable supermarket substitute is plain bagels. Seriously, bagels! Bagels tend to have more body than the loaves of bread they sell at most supermarkets (many of which feel firm at the crust, but are just glutinous, plastic air on the inside and which lends stuffing an unpleasant texture). If you have access to a good bakery, toss in whatever else feels right: mixing in some pumpernickel or rye will change the flavor, but sometimes that's just right. Cornbread is a great addition, too, as are stale biscuits/soda bread, even some kinds of crackers. Dried prefab "stuffing crumbs" are the work of Beelzebub and should be avoided, except in the context of heavy metal concerts, where the works of Beelzebub are welcome and appropriate.

Notes and Options

One large onion is good for about 2 cups chopped, and 1 bundle of celery makes 3 cups chopped. A turkey-sized roasting pan, devoid of poultry, can handle a heaped-up-piled-up double batch if you're seriously into your stuffing. The thyme/sage blend can be replaced with a quality brand of "poultry seasoning" if you prefer. What's in ``poultry seasoning'' varies widely from brand to brand (some of the sketchier brands contain cheap filler). McCormick's is a pretty good blend, favoring thyme.

Optional Seasonings: The basic recipe takes care to avoid over-herbing or over-spicing, but that doesn't mean you have to! The addition of any or all of a pinch of marjoram, 4 tbsp lemon juice, 2 tsp celery seed, 1 1/2 cups parsely, 3/4 cups bacon bits, 1/4 tsp cayenne, 1/2 cup chopped leeks (replacing onion entirely), "seasoned" salts replacing some or all of the plain salt, 1 tbsp Chinese Hot Oil, 4 tbsp olive oil or 1 tbsp savory will certainly enhance it.

Further Additions: Putting a little extra substance in the stuffing is good. Try an egg, or 1 cup chopped mushrooms, 1 cup of diced ham, a handful or two of chopped nuts, or 3 slices of chopped, crisp bacon, or double or triple any of the above! Diced, cooked giblets work well, but I think they're better used in making gravy (below). Some hot italian sausage (cooked, then chopped and distributed as thoroughly as possible) does nice things, too.

Chilled Stuffing: Make the ``raw'' (unbaked) stuffing a day in advance, and keep chilled in the refrigerator overnight before stuffing the bird and/or baking the stuffing. This allows the flavors to blend, and can save prep-time and counter-space on a busy feast-making day.

Charlie Brown Stuffing: Don't knock this 'till you try it, and the kids will love you for it if you remember to tell them what they're eating: Add 1/2 cup crushed potato chips and 1/2 cup broken pretzel sticks to the sauté at the same time the broth is added.

Stuffin' Fluffin': This stuffing has some backbone. I'd call it "middleweight," the kind you can reasonably slice when it's chilled. If you prefer it drier and fluffier, cut the butter and/or liquid down, to as low as half the given values. If you like your stuffing much denser, increase them by 50% or more.

Stuffin Muffins: Bake the stuffing in muffin/cupcake pans; one batch will make about 30 half-cup croquettes (or 24 heartily-filled ones). This will reduce baking time by 10-20 minutes, depending on how crowded the oven is. This is my favorite way to prepare the stuffing lately; it makes portion-measuring super-easy and increases surface area (so there's more crusty-bit edges).

Stuffin' Muffins

Giblet Gravy

• giblets and/or neck parts
• 1/2 cup chopped onion
• 1/2 tsp Thyme
• 1 tsp black pepper
• 6 cups cold water
• 1/2 cup turkey fat (from pan drippings)
• 1 cup flour

Place giblets and/or neck in a pot with onion, thyme and pepper. Add the cold water. Bring to a boil and skim, then simmer, covered, while the bird roasts.

When the bird is done, strain broth into a bowl and discard solids. Salt broth at this point if desired; I recommend 2 teaspoons to start (commercial-standard saltiness would be 3, but always start a little low ... it's easier to add salt than take it away). Add drippings or milk to the giblet broth to bring it back up to exactly 6 cups of fluid. Collect 1/2 cup of pan-drippings from the bird and make a roux with the flour. Cook the roux lightly and add the broth (slowly, a half-cup at a time) to it to make gravy. Serve immediately; giblet gravy brings the awesome to dressing, sliced turkey, and mashed potatoes!

Happy Holidays to everybody . . . cook because you love to see them eat. Make them watch themselves because you love to see them healthy! Which, unfortunately, means going easy on things like stuffing . . . Ah, heck. It's just once a year . . !

Basic Bread

Correspondent Heather Eggleston emailed to ask what became of my Basic Bread article. Here it is, almost exactly as it was on the Blue Room:

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Bread is fundamental food, and the ability to bake a good loaf of bread is one of the cornerstone skills of any good cook. And why not? There's nothing - and I mean nothing - that gives a home a more comfortable smell than fresh bread baking in the oven, and no food that is so universally loved when it's done right. But, to the newcomer, bread baking can be scary. So, I wrote this page, encouraged by the steady positive feedback on my sourdough article. That article is for experienced bakers. This article will help you become one . . . Once you master basic bread, you can move on to rolls, soft pretzels, bagels, fancy braided challah - anything you like.

The modern world has many conveniences that we benefit from, but for a long time, it looked like one of the casualties of the modern age would be good bread! The pitiful stuff they sell in bags in supermarkets re-defined the word for a long time, but lately, the trend has happily reversed: Good bakeries can be found in many supermarkets, and more and more people are baking even better bread at home.

My wife Sandra and I use this basic recipe for our day-to-day baking. We typically bake two batches per week. The process is very very easy! I've included lots of step-by-step detail to help you through the first couple of times, but basically it all breaks down to: mix it up, let it rise, make a loaf, let it rise, bake! Before you bake the bread for the first time, read the entire recipe (and the notes that follow); that way you'll be comfortable with each step.

• 1-1/3 cups very warm water
• 1 rounded tbsp. sugar
• 2 teaspoons salt
• 2 tbsp. butter (vary as needed; see below)
• 4 rounded cups flour (nearly 5 level cups)
• 1 tsp. active dry yeast

Stage One, Mixing and Kneading: There are two general methods for making these ingredients into good bread - the "machine-mixed" method and the "mixed by hand" method. There is no real art to mixing - it's brute-force work best left to a machine. So, if you have a heavy-duty stand mixer (like a KitchenAid), a bread machine, or a food processor, I recommend the first method. Even if you have nothing more complex than a large bowl and a wooden spoon, though, you can make bread (it's just a little more tiring that way!)

• Machine-Mixed Method: The best machine for bread mixing is a bread machine. They make lousy bread, but they're great for mixing because they mix, knead, and provide a warm place for the bread to rise, all in one. Simply assemble the ingredients in the machine's bucket, in the order listed, and use your machine's Dough cycle. When it's done, skip ahead to Stage Three, below. Mixing dough in a food processor or with a standing mixer is a lot like mixing it by hand - so read the instructions for that, but let the machine do all the work!
  
• Mixed by Hand Method: In a mixing bowl, dissolve the sugar salt in the water, and sprinkle yeast on top. Stir to dissolve, and allow to stand for 10 minutes before stirring again (set the butter out to soften during this time). Add the butter, then about 2/3 of the flour to the mixing bowl, a half-cup at a time, and mix until the dough pulls away from the sides of the bowl. Use the tail-end of a wooden spoon, or a sturdy case knife (the dull table-knives that a lot of folks call butter knives). Turn the dough onto a floured bread board or countertop and flour your hands (if you're using a machine for mixing, just leave it in the machine). With your fingers, gradually work in remaining flour while kneading the dough into a smooth mass (about fifteen minutes - or about half that with a machine). If at any point your hands start to get sticky, put flour on them!

Stage Two, The First Rising: If you're using a bread machine, this step is handled automatically by the Dough cycle, so you can skip ahead to Stage Three. Otherwise: Place dough in a bowl greased with 1/2 tsp. butter (turning once to butter the top). The best way to grease a bowl is to put the butter in a paper towel, and use the paper towel to rub the butter on all sides of the bowl. This gives a nice even coverage and doesn't get your hand greasy at all! Cover the bowl with a towel, and place it in a warm place. A sunny spot in your kitchen will do on a summer day, but I prefer a slightly warmed oven. Warm your oven by turning it to the very lowest setting. It should be noticeably warm, but cool enough so you can press your hand against the inside of the oven door without burning yourself. Turn the oven completely off before putting the bread in to rise. Keep the oven closed during the rising-time to keep in the warmth.

Allow about 45 minutes rising time (this can vary a bit with the climate, the yeast used, and other factors - allow for a 20 minute "fudge factor" in either direction); the dough should grow to twice its normal size. When a finger inserted into the top of the dough leaves a tunnel that doesn't begin to "heal," the dough has finished rising.

A Snapshot From Back in Denver, 2014

Stage Three, The Loaf: Punch the risen dough down completely (pretend it's somebody you're mad at) and give it a quick kneading on the bread-board or countertop. If it's too sticky at this point, add a dusting of flour. Shape dough into a fat cigar-shape about 12-13 inches long. Re-warm the oven if need be for the second rising.

The loaf should be placed on a flat cooking surface - a series of baking tiles, or a pizza stone, or a cookie sheet. Dust the surface with a light dusting of cornmeal, then gently place the loaf on it. If you like, slash the top of the dough once down the middle of the top, or in several short, diagonal slashes across it. This will help keep the loaf from splitting along the side, and it's attractive, too (it's a tradition from the Middle Ages, when the distinctive slashes helped French peasants tell their loaves apart, since bread was baked en masse in communal ovens owned by the lord of the land . . .)

Stage Four, The Second Rise: This one's real easy. Cover the loaf lightly with paper towels and stash it in the warm place again. Let is rise for another 45 minutes, until the loaf is doubled in size and ready to bake.

Stage Five, Baking The Bread: Place the loaf in the oven (if it isn't already there, rising) and turn the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Do not preheat the oven! Bake the bread for 30-45 minutes, until it turns a deep golden brown. Baking time varies because all ovens are different. Check your bread first at 30 minutes, and again every five minutes until it looks done. The finished loaf should sound hollow when tapped on the bottom with the flat of a wooden spoon.

Remove the bread from the oven and brush the top and sides lightly with olive oil or melted butter. Cool on a rack for one hour; the bread is then ready to serve or store (if you don't have a rack, any improvised surface that allows a little air to circulate under the bread will do - if you're completely stuck, cool it on a pile of kitchen towels!)

Notes and Variants

This basic recipe can be altered in dozens of simple ways to change the texture, flavor, appearance and aroma of the bread. I've also included a few notes here on why our recipe is like it is.

Water or Milk: For a richer, slightly softer bread, use whole milk instead of water. For a few added nutrients but no real difference in flavor or texture, use reduced-fat or skim milk.

Herbs and Spices: Just a pinch of basil, or black pepper, or cayenne, or any of a hundred other herbs and spices added to the mix along with the sugar and salt will give a distinct flavor and character to your bread. The only rule is don't overdo it . . . Even the tiniest amount can have a dramatic effect on the flavor and aroma of your bread. Also, keep in mind the ultimate purpose that the bread will serve: If you're serving it sliced hot with a hearty meal, a little black pepper or oregano will make it taste great (especially if the bread is served with a little soft butter). But if you're going to be making peanut-butter-and-jelly for the kids' lunches tomorrow, that black pepper is a bad idea. When in doubt, leave it out.

Butter and Other Fats: The amount of fat given - two tablespoons - will produce bread of pleasant texture and flavor. But, so will nearly double that amount, and half that amount, and no butter at all! Experiment to find your taste. I often enjoy my bread entirely fat free (like French bread), but many dislike a hearty, solid crust and prefer their bread softer. Fat is the single most important factor in the softness of bread (see "Crusts," below). Note that other fats, from lard or baconfat to vegetable shortening and even oils; can substitute for the butter. Every fat, and every amount of that fat, will give you a different flavor and texture. Experiment!

Flour: Either all-purpose flour or unbleached white flour can be used in this recipe, but you'll find you get better texture and flavor from the unbleached (sold as "better for bread" and so on at the supermarket, for a few pennies more than all-purpose). By replacing up to half of the flour with whole-wheat flour, the recipe can be used to make a nice wheat bread.

Note that flour given is approximate; flour varies in absorbency and slight adjustments may be necessary. The dough should be smooth and elastic while kneading; sprinkle on just enough additional flour as necessary to prevent the dough from sticking (if it's sticky at all, it's too moist and needs a sprinkle of flour).

Yeast: Note that this recipe uses a lot less yeast than most recipes . . . Many recipes using as little as 3 cups of flour call for "one package" of active dry yeast - and that's about double the yeast we use (a package is 2-1/4 tsp.). This is mostly a matter of convenience, since yeast is traditionally sold in "packages" that were designed decades ago, scaled for an era when home-baking meant larger batches (usually two or three loaves at a time, at minimum). If you're doubling the basic recipe given here for a two-loaf batch, then using "a package" will be just fine . . . But using that much for a single loaf is wasteful, and can give your bread an unpleasantly yeasty aftertaste and smell. The best way to buy yeast is in jars. They cost about $5, and contain enough yeast to make more than thirty loaves of bread (despite the claim on the label that they just contain enough for 16 . . .) Also, note that jars labeled "bread machine yeast" contain ordinary fast-rising yeast (yeast with ascorbic acid added to make rising faster) that will give you identical results to any other - the labeling is just the companies cashing in on the current popularity of bread machines.

Scale: This recipe scales easily in any direction. For a smaller loaf (one that won't go to waste if you're a light eater living alone, for instance) use 1 cup of warm water, 3 rounded cups of flour, and either adjust the other ingredients microscopically or just leave them as they are (it won't make much difference). Doubling the recipe will make two big beautiful loaves, or a batch of rolls fit for a family reunion (see "Shapes," below).

Note that the 3-cup version will fit in a standard loaf pan, if you prefer square-base bread to freeform loaves. Grease the pan lightly, and otherwise follow the recipe normally.

Preheat, Or Not Preheat, That Is The Question: For most purposes, I'm an advocate of "cold oven" baking, where the baking temperature is moderate, and the oven is not preheated. This style of bread-baking was in vogue decades ago, but gave way to preheated, hotter ovens in attempts to imitate bakery bread. I don't usually try to imitate bakery bread, so cold-oven baking works best for me - it gives the loaf an extra rise as it begins to bake, and makes for a more pleasant, even texture. If you want a crisper bread, or a chewy one, increase the temperature by 50 to 100 degrees, and experiment with pre-heated baking. This is essential for French-style breads.

Crusts: If your preference is for soft bread, brush the top and sides of the loaf with oil or melted butter immediately upon removing it from the oven. If you prefer a crunchier, harder crust, brush the crust with nothing at all . . . and a dusting of flour on top at the beginning of Stage Four will give a nice "old world" look to the bread, too. For a chewy, French-style crust, use a hotter, preheated oven (see above), brush the loaf just before baking with ice water, and mist water into the oven (aim away from any heating elements - go for the oven walls) every 15 minutes or so throughout the baking.

Crusts can be glazed by brushing an egg-wash on them: Whisk a single egg with a teaspoon of water to create the egg-wash; brush it on just before baking (use milk instead of water for a slightly softer crust). A wash made of lemon juice and sugar will give a pleasantly light and fruity air to a bread. A wash made of honey or sugar and water will make a glossy and sweet glaze. Topping any of the above with a dusting of caraway or other seeds can add a nice touch, too - especially if you've shaped the loaf into a fancy braid!

Shapes: This recipe can be used to make all manner of breads and rolls. Dividing the loaf into 8 equal parts in Stage Three will make excellent sandwich rolls (perfect for hamburgers, or as the basic roll for guinea grinders). Flatten the rolls into a hamburger-patty shape, and arrange them on the baking surface to rise (for hot dog rolls, divide the bread into 12-16 pieces and shape them into hot-dog shaped loaves!) By dividing the bread into 36 balls, dipping each one in melted butter, and putting three each into muffin tins, you can make cloverleaf rolls. Dividing the bread into three long ropes and braiding them makes lovely braided bread, and so on . . . Be creative. Keep in mind that the more you divide the dough, the shorter the baking time will be . . . from 20 minutes for kaiser-rolls or hamburger buns down to 15 or even 10 minutes for small rolls (parkerhouse style or others).

And More . . . 

This article will provide a new baker with a lifetime of interesting breads and rolls, but naturally there are many more possibilities: more grains and flours, specialty breads like bagels and pita, and so on. The goal of this article is to provide you with a foundation in breadbaking, so that more advanced recipes and cookbooks will make sense to you, and hide fewer discouraging setbacks. After a few loaves, you'll find that you begin to develop an instinctive "feel" for the baking process, and a new recipe becomes a fun challenge, not an intimidating chore. If you've enjoyed this article and want to talk about it, my inbox is always open!

This Was Just Stage One of some Thanksgiving Stuffing!

I Just Noticed: Walnuts Are Food

The package of chopped walnuts we bought tonight proclaims their perfection for baking or snacking. The pack of of diced walnuts already in the pantry features a recipe for banana walnut bread, but offers no other suggestions. Until recently, my only savory-dish use for walnuts was in my Thanksgiving stuffing, where they barely rate a passing mention in the options (though, truth be told, I haven't made stuffing without them for years).

That's changed. I've recently become infatuated with walnuts in stir-fries and other throw-together wok dishes. They dance beautifully with beets, snuggle up to onions, provide a more textured counterpoint to tofu. They're a source of protein and omega-3s, so if you're looking for omega-3s but don't like cooking with fish (we don't; small apartment, sensitive noses) they've got that going on.

But mostly, they're just really yummy.

Clipart Squirrel Prefers Peanuts. Rock On, Clipart Squirrel.

At every fresh stage of my descent into dietary restrictions, I seem to meet at least one thing so pleasurable that I'd keep it around even if my health were magically restored. This is the latest. If the diet genie said "you can just put ground beef in everything again," I'd still get cravings for shredded beets with walnuts, tossed in a nice hot wok with some sweetness and spice.

I just feel foolish for never tossing walnuts in the wok before now, before cholesterol became another Thing I Have to Watch, before getting some omega-3s became a goal. I wish someone had mentioned it, so, I'm mentioning it: walnuts are boss as legit, main-dish food.

Not just walnuts, of course. I've always liked slivered almonds with green beans, but I never treated them as an everyday cooking protein 'til now. I've always liked pine nuts in a pesto or sunflower seeds in fresh bread. But now, I've mentally shifted all of them from "these are nice snacky items" to "these are staple proteins to pile veggies onto."

Our new diet isn't wholly vegetarian, but for cholesterol reasons, it's mostly vegetarian, and while we like some tofu just fine, we love some variety just finer. My tip for today is just: even if you have no dietary reason to toss walnuts (or whatever nuts/seeds/legumes you're into) into your wok, you might find the pure-pleasure reasons equally compelling.

Stinknoodles

If you're making a new RPG character and you're desperate for a G-rated curse word the character can utter as a trademark, you could do a lot worse than "Aw, stinknoodles."

But stinknoodles – that is to say, shirataki – have become pretty important to our household diet, lately, so I figure I'd write a little about them.

Due to ill health, Sandra and I have some pretty serious dietary restrictions ... we have to limit calories, carbs, saturated fat, cholesterol, sodium ... pretty much everything you can restrict, we have to restrict.

Shirataki noodles are pretty much 100% indigestible, in the good way, so they have something approaching zero carbs in impact terms, and virtually no calories either, so they're not food ... they're a kind of fake structure you prepare with food, as alternative to starchy, delicious, starchified starchlike starch.

If you're watching calories or carbs, consider keeping shirataki on hand. The texture doesn't resemble flour-based pasta, really – it's got more of that bungie-cord elasticity, closer to something in the ramen/udon territory. It's also virtually flavorless, so again: not food. But, a pretty impressive way of adding a pasta-oid, pasta-esque character to a dish of veggies and/or meat.

Because it's not starch, the texture doesn't really change. Where regular pasta gets progressively softer by cooking, shirataki just ... doesn't. This is strange at first, but becomes convenient once you get the hang of it. It makes single-dish cooking easier (as shown in the pic, where I'm getting the noodles hot next to some of the sauce components, all at once).

There are several brands available, some with a bit of added tofu ... and as near as I can tell, the only point of the added tofu (which adds a teensy calorie or two, nothing to worry about) is to make the noodles more opaque? I think? They don't taste any different (which is to say, they continue to lack any flavor of their own), so I think it's just some weird marketing thing where the assumption is that American buyers want their noodles more opaque. If you know a real reason, let me know.

The thing I find most interesting about the different shirataki brands is how they address the stink. Because these are stinknoodles. They're typically packed wet, and the water smells like dog poop having a stink-contest with rotting fish, in a battle royale where everyone loses.

Or, as the Nasoya label says, a "mild earthy smell."

Or (my favorite) the House Foods brand warns of the "authentic aroma."

Stinknoodles pretty much only stink when you open them. When rinsed and added to actual food, the stink fades rapidly, and vanishes entirely by the time you serve them.

But for a shining moment, you can breathe in that earthy authenticity.