We went to Ben’s sister J’s last weekend in the 90 degree heat to check in on her beautiful and quirky property in Sonoma. We met her in Santa Rosa at a farm where a lovely woman named Vivian raises chickens. Little Sammy immediately availed himself of the flock, grabbing whichever bird would let him near. That kid is so fearless?at two, Leo sure wasn’t picking up any chickens (he wasn’t even at nine). Emus ran around the back of the farm and we bought two dozen gorgeous pastured (chicken! Not emu!) eggs to take home.
At J’s, there were fawns to feed with bottles, more chickens, including three temperamental and hysterical roosters, a pond with bright little fish, and a hose?oh my! Sammy watered for hours on end, and since their property is fed with a spring, we didn’t even feel too guilty about it.
And there was Gado Gado for lunch.
I already had Gado Gado on the brain. I was thinking how all of my recipes so far have been pretty homey, not “company stuff,” as they say. But with its gorgeous layers and colors, the Indonesian dish Gado Gado is the kind of vegetarian dinner you could serve when you want to make a big deal out of someone. Gado Gado is versatile, it feels a bit exotic, it’s a great way to put to use any veggies you’ve got, and it’s delicious. It’s also gluten-free (as have been all of my recipes so far) and good for vegans if you omit the eggs.
Note that my interpretation of Gado Gado is probably not authentic. (Someday, I’d like to go to Indonesia and eat the real thing.) And like last week’s recipe for tofu, this recipe is more of a concept than a firm list of ingredients and techniques. But that’s what I love about it: the possibilities really are endless.
A note on amounts: I’m sorry not to be firmer in the amounts below, but this dish depends a lot on how many are coming and how big their appetites are, as well as on what’s in your fridge. If I only have three potatoes for my family, I’ll supplement heavily with a sweet potato and a few carrots. Half a cucumber is fine if you also have some beautiful spring onions and a handful of cherry tomatoes. Etc.
A variety of cooking vegetables, chopped into large-ish bite-sized pieces (potatoes are classic; I have also used sweet potato, carrot, cabbage, greens, etc. Try for a mix of colors and flavors. At J’s we did potatoes, purple sweet potatoes, and large chunks of green and purple cabbage)
A variety of raw vegetables, including cucumber, lettuce, tomato, bean sprouts, green onions, green beans, pickled anything, more cabbage, etc., chopped into large-ish bite-sized pieces (at J’s we had tomatoes, cukes, lightly dressed baby bok choi, pickled carrots, green onions…)
Rice (traditional is sticky rice in a banana leaf! I always just make a pot of jasmine in my rice cooker and call it a day. J made a brown sticky rice, which was delicious)
Baked or fried tofu or tempeh (a block/package will serve four; you can also buy already marinated, seasoned tofu and use that?or, omit it altogether)
1-2 hard boiled eggs per person
Peanut Sauce (recipe below)
To make Gado Gado, prep your veggies: cut everything into bite-sized pieces and get the steamers going. Note that while it’s tempting to just throw everything together, the beauty in this dish is when all the vegetables form a mosaic on your platter. So resist the urge to skimp on pots and pans and neatly separate all your veggies. (This way, too, you’ll be sure that your sweet potatoes are not mushy while your carrots are still hard.)
While your potatoes and similar are steaming away, beautifully wash and prep your raw veggies. Boil your eggs, fry your tofu, and prepare your peanut sauce and rice.
When your cooked vegetables are cooked and your raw vegetables are beautifully chopped, get out your most beautiful platter and arrange everything. I like to pile like with like around the plate, making a rainbow of colors. Serve your rice on the side. You can either drizzle over some peanut sauce (and pass more at the table) or serve the sauce in a pitcher for everyone to help themselves. Either way, be sure to have plenty of peanut sauce.
As J says, without the sauce, it’s just a pile of vegetables.
Serve with hot sauce, too, for those who like it spicy!
Peanut (or Almond) Sauce
This is a recipe I love from Cynthia Lair?s fabulous cookbook Feeding the Whole Family. I *always* double it.
? cup creamy peanut or almond butter
2 teaspoons maple syrup
2 Tablespoons tamari or soy sauce
1 Tablespoon rice vinegar
1 teaspoon or more grated fresh ginger
1 teaspoon sriracha or similar hot sauce (or to taste)
1/3 cup of water
Put all ingredients in a saucepan over low heat. Whisk until the sauce is smooth and warm. Thin with water as necessary.
Love peanut sauce? Make Bathing Rama, too: noodles or rice, fried tofu, a big pile of spinach or other cooked greens, all drizzled with the sauce. Yum.
Meal planning, let alone cooking delicious vegetarian dinners, has been the last thing on my mind. In these parts, we’ve been eating a lot of toast.
It’s been a minor doozy of a few weeks. I finally got rid of my two-week cold only to throw my back out, only to receive word, early last week, that one of the kids from Sammy’s daycare had likely brought in Norovirus. One of the caregivers went home sick, daycare closed for two days, and then Sam had it. Even though he never slowed down for one minute, him waking up covered in vomit on Sunday morning kiiiind of seemed like an indicator that our house was a big virusy mess.
Ensue Papa Bear in bed for two days with nausea and aches and Sammy home indefinitely until, well, his poop firmed up. Me? I had some vague nausea that, fingers crossed, seems to have passed, and yesterday I finally sent Sammy back to school?only to get a call later asking me to pick him up.
It’s been a week of hot-water-washes, incessant hand washing, bleached everything, and the sensation that this thing just won’t release its grip on us. Norovirus, if that’s what this is, seems to impact everyone differently, but its main claim to fame is just how very contagious it is.
Anyway, this morning, in addition to a bolstering bleach-wash of every Lego Sammy has ever touched, plus some more laundry, I’m turning again to thinking about great vegetarian dinners.
I know, I know: if you’re a real diehard meat fan, you don’t think you can get behind tofu, that bland white block of meh. That’s the thing, though. Most people don’t know that tofu is spectacularly tasty when you do it right. As a friend of Leo’s said once, when she stayed for dinner, “I LOVE tofood!” Me too. It feels nourishing and satisfying in a way that even meat-lovers should be able to get behind. In fact, tofu truly makes a vegetarian dinner that doesn’t suck.
Tofu Two Ways
1-2 blocks extra firm tofu (we now make 3 in our house, with a slim chance of some leftovers for the next day! #growingkids)
Lots of soy sauce or Bragg?s Liquid Aminos Freshly grated ginger Coconut oil, sesame oil, or both Neutral oil for frying (see below) Garlic, minced Nutritional yeast
Whichever method you choose, you need to get excess water out of your already extra-firm tofu so as to be sure it?s firm, firm, firm. You can either wrap it in paper towels to blot the excess moisture or stick your tofu between two plates and stack several heavy cookbooks on top for 20 minutes or so. Drain off the excess liquid, and chop it into bite-sized cubes or rectangles.
Method One: Stovetop
This is Ben?s method, which was actually passed down from his dad. (We might even call it Eichentofu.) Basically, in a hot frying pan, you heat some neutral oil and saut? 2-5 minced garlic cloves?how many is up to you, but Ben likes to do more than seems right for polite company.
Add your tofu, and allow it to cook on one side until it develops a crust, much like searing meat (in other words: don?t flip it too early!). Once it?s getting crunchy, browned, and awesome, you can flip it gently, then add soy sauce and nutritional yeast to taste. Cook those cubes for a while in that salty, yeasty mixture?maybe 20 minutes. Taste occasionally to be sure you?ve got the right saltiness (add a splash of water if you?ve overdone it on the soy). The tofu pieces should become almost caramelized, crunchy on the outside, chewy inside, with the most umami spectacular deliciousness ever.
Method Two: Oven
Arguably less awesome, but requiring almost no babysitting, is baked tofu, which has become my go-to because most nights I need a quick and easy protein to do its thing while I ignore it. Heat your oven to 400. In a large lasagna-type pan, melt a couple of tablespoons of coconut oil (stick it in the oven for a minute and take it out) and then swirl it around to coat the pan. Meanwhile, toss your firm tofu cubes in a bowl with freshly grated ginger, sesame oil, and soy or liquid Aminos. You?ll need quite a bit of flavoring for baked tofu, so use a heavy hand. The grated ginger is delicious and arguably makes it more digestible, too. Bake for 20-30 minutes, tossing once or twice, until browned and awesome, tasting occasionally to be sure you?ve got the right saltiness and intensity.
Either kind of tofu is best devoured with a giant pot of rice (white or brown) and a green side, like saut?ed greens or roasted broccoli (so easy! So good! Just adjust your tofu temp up or your broccoli temp down to do them at the same time) or even a steamed artichoke from the garden. Make sure the table is liberally set with condiments like more soy, Aminos, nutritional yeast, and hot sauce, even if it would make your proper mother cringe.
Or you can serve it like we did in the photo: with a quinoa salad and slaw. —- NOTE: While I really do adore tofu, I DON’T adore the plastic it comes in. It’s also, compared to beans, a relatively processed food that uses a decent amount of energy (on par with eggs and chicken, I think). Seek out bulk tofu where and when you can, and make it a once-weekly treat.
The other day in the car we listened to this Robot or Not podcast about whether it’s better to have changing seasons or nice weather all the time. The New Englander in me immediately said “seasons,” though if I’m honest, I haven’t terribly missed those frigid Februaries and wet Marches too much since I moved West. (Fall colors, on the other hand? My tragic lost love.) I think the thing about living in a place like northern California, where the temperature changes maybe 25 degrees max, all year, is to be super in tune with the small changes: the few fall colors we get? Oh how I appreciate them. That chill in winter, when it’s below 40 in the morning? I’ll take it. And what passes for summer, and me having had the wherewithal to get up at six a.m. to write for an hour in that clear morning light FOR THREE WEEKS STRAIGHT NOW?
Yes, yes, yes.
Right now, in early June, we’ve got the warmest weather we’ll see all year?until late September, that is, when we get a second stretch of heat. In the middle? Fog. So when we have these warm summer days, it’s important to seize them:?the late light, the abundance of flowers, and mostly, the many fruits in our amazing garden.
And in the stores, already, blueberries and peaches and nectarines and basil like you wouldn’t believe.
So I have to admit that while?I was all about meal planning and being organized and cooking ahead?and while overall this has been such a smart move?lately I’m into the easiest and loveliest of summer meals: a salad, an artichoke, a protein, a pile of rice. I’m stocking my kitchen with summer’s bounty, tons of which comes from my very own garden, and then I’m seeing what happens next.
It’s kind of like writing a poem. A summer one.
Speaking of which: I’ve got a mini book tour going! I read in Santa Barbara last week, and I’ll be in Davis, California, tonight. Next week, I’ll feature at the Voz sin Tinta reading series in San Francisco. Over the summer I’ll hit Portland, Maine, and I’m hoping for the other Portland in the fall. You can stay up to date on my comings-and-goings on my new Little Prayers Book Tour page.??
And if you wanted a copy of my book and haven’t yet gotten one, The Bookmobile is coming! I’ll be signing and sending books in the month of June. Drop me a line via my contact page for details.
And wherever you are, enjoy a gorgeous summer meal. (Unless you’re in the southern hemisphere, I suppose.)