Tofu Shiitake Dumplings in Spicy Peanut Broth

Growing up, I always heard my parents talk about these amazing dumplings they used to eat shortly after I was born, near Boston. They described, with near reverence, how the spicy broth was almost unbearably hot. This early exposure to wontons, much like an early exposure to language, primed me for a particular dumpling aptitude and appreciation.

I have my own fond memories of the chicken dumplings in spicy peanut broth I used to eat at Ho Chow’s when I was in high school. The sauce was so spicy that if you breathed wrong, you’d be coughing for the rest of dinner. Somehow, it was worth it, and I have longed for them ever since.

On a recent trip to Oregon, I had dinner at a great Asian fusion restaurant that skillfully combined Japanese, Chinese, Singaporean, and Thai flavors in each dish. To start, we enjoyed these delicate tofu stuffed dumplings in a light miso broth. The wontons were tender and perfect, but the broth was a little too mild for my taste. In my head, I paired them with that hot and spicy peanut broth, and couldn’t wait to create my own vegan version. 

Tofu Dumplings

1 package extra firm tofu
1/2 cup minced carrot,
1 cup minced shiitake mushrooms (you can use cremini if necessary; I also like to add a few maitakes)
1/2 cup minced cabbage
1 tablespoon ginger, finely grated
2 cloves of garlic, crushed
1/4 cup soy sauce
1 tablespoon sesame chili oil
1 package wonton or pot sticker wrappers (check to make sure there is no egg)

In a large sauté pan, stir fry the carrots, mushrooms, cabbage, ginger, and garlic until tender, about 7 minutes. In a large bowl, combine the vegetables, tofu, soy, and sesame oil. Combine with a fork (or use your hands) to break up the tofu and incorporate the other ingredients. Taste the filling, and add more soy sauce if necessary.

Place 1 heaping tablespoon filling in the center of the dumpling wrapper. Wet the edges with water and fold the edges to seal the dumpling.

You can steam the dumplings in a steaming basket over a wok of boiling water for 12-14 minutes, or boil the dumplings in boiling water for 5-6 minutes. Place on an oven safe plate and keep warm in a 200° oven.

Set aside to be combined with the peanut broth. 

Spicy Peanut Broth

1 cup vegetable stock
1/4 cup peanut butter
3 tbsp chili paste
1  1/2 tbsp rice vinegar
1/4 cup soy sauce
1 teaspoon sesame chili oil
2 sliced green onions

In a small saucepan, combine the vegetable stock, peanut butter, chili paste, rice vinegar, and soy sauce. Bring mixture to a simmer, and cook for 3-5 minutes, allowing all of the flavors to combine. Add more chili paste for heat. If the broth gets too thick, add more vegetable stock until it attains a smooth, thin consistency. Ladle the broth over the dumplings, drizzle with sesame chili oil, and finish with green onion. Serve immediately - as if you could wait!

I'm a Bad Vegan, or My Visit to Farm Sanctuary

A few weeks ago, my family and I spent a day at the farm - Farm Sanctuary to be more specific. This is something of a rite of passage for a new vegan. Practically every vegan book, blog, or website I’ve read is plastered with images of the author curled up with cows, draped over pigs, and nuzzling goats. I was starting to feel like a vegan deadbeat, and not for the obvious reason that I haven’t posted in, ahem, months. So, when my sister spotted a Vegan Thanksgiving Feast at the Orland Farm Sanctuary, we put on the closest thing we have to outdoor-wear and headed north.

Upon arrival, we were treated to vegan donuts, coffee and tea, while Tara Oresick, the Shelter Director gave an all too brief presentation on a handful of that year’s rescued animals. I found this to be the most successful presentation of the day, with Oresick truly giving a voice (and a name and a history) to those who can’t speak for themselves. I could feel myself connecting to the aforementioned cows, pigs, and goats as she described the circumstances that brought them here. Could there be anything more endearing than a goat named Scribbles? Or, a chicken and a rooster who have improbably found love? Maybe for some people.

I have a confession to make: I’m a vegan who doesn’t like animals. As I’ve already expressed here, I did not become vegan because of my love for animals, or a horrified epiphany that chicken is chicken. I became and stay vegan because I don’t want to contribute to our dysfunctional agriculture system and its MO of cruelty, because it is the single most effective thing you can do to impede global warming, because it vastly decreases my risk of heart disease, diabetes, and cancer, and because my skinny jeans are three sizes smaller. But, I still feel like a fraud because I don’t fawn over creatures that used to be my food. Becoming vegan hasn’t changed the fact that I find them smelly, boring, and interchangeable. Perhaps if I spent more time with them, I would come to discern the feisty hen from the flock, but after 20 minutes of awkwardly patting various animals on the head, I was good.

This is not a popular sentiment among vegans, and one that will surely earn me the title of “Bad Vegan” from some of my plant-based comrades.  But, I don’t think this is true. Veganism cannot be an exclusive club; it has to welcome everybody. We don’t want our beliefs to be rare and exotic (well, maybe just a little), but pervasive. And if we’re going to achieve ubiquity, we have to dismantle these definitions of what it means to be a “real” vegan. There are lots of reasons why people adopt a vegan diet: it sounds like a cool thing to do in college, or you want to do something challenging for Lent, or 17 years after Clueless you’re still trying to emulate Alicia Silverstone, or you really love animals. The end result is the same, so why does it matter how you got there?  Deifying those who became vegan for the “right” reasons alienates those who stumbled upon it. Some people smirk when I tell them that I became vegan on a whim, but there might be one person who connects to my unconventional path. And that’s one person more than before. 

Pappardelle with Marinated Heirloom Tomatoes

After living in such agriculturally inhospitable environments as Chicago and Boston, my appreciation for California’s year-round growing season has been intensified. I don’t mean to brag, but we can get fresh arugula 12 months of the year, and I never have to hunt for thyme, oregano, sage, or mint anywhere but my own backyard. There are always Meyer lemons weighing down the branches of our tree, and rosemary conquering more than its share of space. I could go on, but you get my point.

Fortunately for those (few) dear readers who don’t get to enjoy this continuous bounty, summer is the season when we all get to enjoy luscious local produce. At the top of my list of favorites are heirloom tomatoes. Biting into one of the sun-warmed tomatoes we grow in our backyard is perfection. This recipe is my absolute favorite for highlighting summer’s best offering. I first made it last summer and have since been waiting for the opportunity to slot it back into my weekly rotation. You should too!

Pappardelle with Marinated Heirloom Tomatoes
adapted from "Martha Stewart Living," August 2011

4 cloves garlic, sliced thinly
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
2 pounds heirloom tomatoes, diced roughly
Zest of 1 lemon
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
1/2 cup fresh basil, torn
Salt and pepper to taste
1 pound pappardelle (check to make sure there is no egg)

Heat the olive oil in a small sauté pan over medium heat. Add the garlic and lower the temperature, browning the garlic slowly, about 7 minutes. Remove from heat.

In a large bowl, combine the tomatoes, lemon zest, red pepper, and basil. Pour the warm garlic and oil over the tomatoes and toss to combine. Cover and let sit for 30 minutes to an hour. Season with salt and pepper.

Meanwhile, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook the pappardelle according to the package directions. Drain thoroughly and add to the tomato mixture. Toss to combine, and garnish with more basil if you like. Serve warm with a side of crusty sourdough to sop up all the tart and savory juices. 

Corn and Cauliflower Noodles in Peanut Sauce

I always know I’ve been watching too much Law & Order when I start to imagine how my belongings would represent me in the inevitable police search after my untimely demise. A perusal of my cookbooks would immediately reveal my culinary leanings. My favorite cookbooks have abused bindings, and easily fall open to reveal sauce splattered recipes partially concealed by my marginalia. Thankfully, an ill fate hasn’t befallen me, allowing me to write this blog post on one such recipe. The first time I saw the recipe for this dish, my thoughts went something like this: “Corn. Hmmm...I like corn. Cauliflower. I love cauliflower. Noodles. Yum! In peanut sauce? Sold!” After making it for the first time, I adjusted it somewhat, like doubling it for a start, and then made it again three days later. It was delicious steaming from the skillet, and equally so pilfered straight from the fridge the next day.

Corn and Cauliflower Noodles in Peanut Sauce
adapted from Big Vegan by Robin Asbell

6 tablespoons soy sauce
6 tablespoons natural peanut butter
3 tablespoons rice vinegar
3 tablespoons brown sugar
2 tablespoons canola oil
2 cups corn, fresh or frozen
2 yellow squash, sliced in 1/4” slices
1 head cauliflower, sliced in florets
6 green onions, sliced diagonally  
2 tablespoons finely grated ginger
3 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed
1 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
12 ounces dried whole wheat angel hair pasta
1/3 cup roasted peanuts, chopped
Salt and pepper

Heat oven to 375°. Place squash and cauliflower in a shallow baking dish. Drizzle with 2 tablespoons canola oil, and season with salt and pepper. Bake until golden and caramelized, about 15 minutes for the squash and 25 minutes for the cauliflower. Set aside.

In a small saucepan, combine the soy sauce, peanut butter, rice vinegar, and brown sugar. Stir until smooth. Set aside.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Cook the pasta according to the directions. Drain and set aside.

Heat a large skillet over medium high heat. Add the corn, cauliflower, squash, ginger, and garlic, and sauté briefly, 1 to 2 minutes. Add most of the scallions (save some for garnish), the pepper flakes, and the noodles. Cover with the sauce, and toss to combine. Garnish with chopped peanuts and green onions. Enjoy immediately, and then again later!

A Vegan Day at the Movies

Growing up, one of my favorite family activities was going to the movies. I have the best memory of being scared out of my wits at Jurassic Park, to the point where I flung a bucket of popcorn out of my lap, and all over the floor (much belated apologies to the Century Theaters’ staff). Food has always been an important part of my movie-going experience, and that hasn't changed since I became vegan. Hot dogs, Junior Mints, popcorn and nachos are the staples of cineplexes across the country which makes it hard to find a suitable snack. Amazingly, the nacho cheese that comes sealed in a tub is actually made with real cheese, but the butter on your popcorn is (often) vegan! However, popcorn does not a meal make, so I like to bring a bag full of goodies.

The 7:00 showing at the theater demands dinner. You can always go the standard route with a foil wrapped vegan dog, but if you’re going to go the trouble of sneaking in food, you might as well raise the bar. When faced with this situation recently, I opted for this bright, fresh noodle salad. Delicious at room temperature, easily transported, and accompanied by chocolate covered pretzels, this dish makes a perfect movie meal!


Soba Noodle Salad with Snow Peas
adapted from Fresh & Fast Vegetarian by Marie Simmons

1 1/2 cups snow peas, sliced diagonally in half
1 teaspoon plus 1/2 teaspoon salt
12 oz soba noodles
1 carrot, julienned
1 cucumber, julienned
1 red bell pepper, julienned
4 green onions, sliced into thin diagonals
1 tablespoon toasted sesame seeds
2 teaspoons toasted sesame oil
1/3 cup rice vinegar
3 tablespoons canola oil
3 tablespoons soy sauce
1 teaspoon grated fresh ginger
1 garlic clove, crushed

Bring a medium saucepan of water to a boil. Add the noodles, and cook for 3 minutes. Add the snow peas and 1 teaspoon salt to the pan, and cook for one minute more. Drain the noodles and snow peas, and rinse with cold water. Transfer the contents of the pan to a bowl, and toss with the sesame oil.

In a small bowl, combine the rice vinegar, oil, soy sauce, ginger, garlic, and 1/2 teaspoon salt.

Combine the noodles, snow peas, carrots, and cucumber in a bowl, and toss with the dressing. Top with green onions and sesame seeds. Serve cold or at room temperature.

A Vegan Epiphany

Hello, again, dear readers, and Happy New Year! To celebrate the occasion, I want to renew my vow of total degustatory honesty, and share the tale of my recent vegan epiphany.

I’ve been vegan for a year and a half now, and it has been the most rewarding decision I’ve ever made. That doesn’t mean, though, that I never wax nostalgic about my former eating life. For me, that longing tends to converge on one food, lasagna. Lasagna is the food my great-grandmother prepared and lovingly packaged into individual servings for my mom when she was pregnant with me. Lasagna is the food I requested for special occasions as a kid. Lasagna is the first dish I made all by myself in my own kitchen in college. And lasagna is the food I most frequently sought out and delighted in during my year in Italy.  So, over these past eighteen months, lasagna has been the food that calls to me most deeply.

After discussing this with my mom, she suggested that I eat lasagna and see how it tasted. She had had a similar experience with cheese pizza six months after she became vegan. She was convinced that the lasagna would not live up to my taste memory. I wasn’t so sure.

On Friday night, I decided to go to my favorite Italian restaurant, and order the layers of pasta, bolognese, and béchamel that I’d been lusting after. My feelings were all over the place. I was excited about eating my favorite food after so long, but I also felt guilty about falling off the vegan wagon. The lasagna arrived and it looked so...dead. It was brown and beige and messy. In contrast, my sister’s capellini pomodoro was a bright, fiery red accented with fresh basil. But, still, I didn’t love lasagna for its looks; it’s what’s on the inside that really counts. And I was still convinced that my first bite would be accompanied by an angelic choir.

The lasagna of my dreams...?

It wasn’t. It tasted like nothing. It was quite possibly the blandest thing I’ve ever eaten. I couldn’t even taste the tomatoes and garlic and fresh herbs; they had been muted by a blanket of meat and cheese. I tasted my sister’s pasta, wondering if it, too, was missing that pop of flavor I had been looking for. It tasted amazing, tangy from the tomatoes and garlic, fresh and alive from the whole basil leaves. I went back to my lasagna, sure that it had been too hot, that I'd burned my tongue. Again, it tasted like nothing. I went back for a few more bites, and I was consistently underwhelmed. In the end, the lasagna got pushed to the edge of the table, and I ordered another plate of capellini pomodoro.

Before I licked the plate clean.

Since then, I’ve encountered other foods that look and smell delicious, but now I know, they don’t taste like anything. After my experiment, I feel reassured in my veganism, even more convinced that this lifestyle is far more about gain than about restriction. This shift in my tastes has not been immediate, but it is extraordinary, and I can only hope it gets better with time.

Braised Kale

Sometimes it’s the simplest dishes that end up being the most delicious. I talk a lot about eating your greens; it seems only appropriate since they are so good for you. They are literally powerhouses of essential nutrients like iron and calcium, not to mention antioxidants and vitamins. So, I talk a lot about eating your greens, and I try to follow my own advice. I like greens, some more than others, but they’ve never been my favorite part of any meal...until now. While visiting my aunt, she made braised kale for us, and I couldn’t get enough of it. I assumed it was because we had been traveling for 2 days, and my peanut butter and jelly fed body was crying out for something real.  But, when I made the dish myself a week later, I was licking my plate clean. I have since put away an entire bunch of kale all by myself thanks to this recipe. If greens have seemed better in theory than in practice, please give this dish a try. It just might change your life.

Braised Kale

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 clove garlic, crushed
1 bunch kale (or chard, dandelion greens, etc)
1 cup vegetable stock
1 cup water
Juice of 1/2 lemon
Salt to taste

Heat 2 tablespoons olive oil in a large pot over high heat . Add the garlic and sauté until golden and fragrant, 1 to 2 minutes. Add the greens, and stir to coat in oil. Add the stock and water. Cook over medium high to high heat until the liquid is almost completely absorbed, about 20 minutes. Add the lemon juice, and taste for salt. Enjoy immediately!