Unlikely Vegetarian Eating plants and living to tell about it

Here’s my confession: I don’t like tofu. This may not be surprising for a Kentuckian, but this distinction makes for a vegetarian outcast. In my defense, tofu looks very intimidating to the uninitiated eater. Nothing about the word tofu leads me, an English speaker, to the conclusion that’s it’s processed soybeans, so I spent many years completely unaware tofu hailed from the soy family. I saw many a soybean farm growing up and never once thought, that’s where tofu comes from! And it looks rather unappetizing. Beige might just be the least exciting food color, and the rectangular block the least exciting food shape.

However, the highest hurdle to my tofu conversion might be the culture that seems to surround it. Tofu conjures up images in my mind of people who only wear hemp clothing and eat only food I’ve never heard of. They would surely mock me for asking how a bean turned into a block of tofu, and shun me once my aversion to bean sprouts surfaced. Do normal people eat tofu? Can you eat tofu and still be normal? Do I want to be a tofu person?

In my last post on soy, I explored whether or not soy was a good addition to my diet–and concluded that it was. Beyond being healthy and environmentally friendly, liking tofu makes living as a vegetarian much easier. The minute you claim the vegetarian label, many people assume you only wear hemp clothing and only eat tofu. Well-meaning friends will suggest a restaurant with a tofu dish on the menu, and then you’re stuck feeling appreciative for the effort but hungry. While many restaurants do offer at least one vegetarian option (often tofu), if you don’t like it, it doesn’t do much good.

Thus, I am on a quest to love tofu. A few years ago when I decided to try a vegetarian diet, I didn’t eat beans or lentils. However, I set out on a mission to learn to love beans so I could replace animal protein with plant protein. It worked. Mind over matter, and now I love beans. While encouraged by past successes, I am suspicious that loving tofu might be a little harder.

The Plan: Every Sunday, I am going to cook or order tofu as an effort to experience this versatile ingredient prepared in many different ways. Surely I will like one of them. And then it will be easier to like the other methods. Let’s hope it works. A few weeks ago, I decided to start with the basic of basics: Stir-Fried Tofu.

When I am insecure in the kitchen, I always call my mother or consult Mark Bittman. Since we didn’t eat tofu in our house growing up, I had to go with Bittman on this one. How to Cook Everything Vegetarian offers more than just recipes, it explains things clearly, like my mother does when I call her panicking from the grocery aisle. After reading the section on tofu, I felt ready to buy, cook, and eat tofu. Bittman describes eight different kinds of tofu that might turn up in the grocery aisle. I settled on the most basic: “regular” brick-shaped extra-firm tofu. He advocates that locally made tofu is superior, but I worried about the consistency being slightly different and not knowing how to account for that in the recipe. Once I master cooking tofu, I plan to purchase the local variety.

Bittman recommends squeezing the water out of the tofu once it’s out of the package, something I wouldn’t have known to do. A nice little diagram shows how: put the tofu on sheets of paper towels, place a plate or cutting board on top of it, and set a can on the plate. Thirty minutes later, the tofu is ready to be used. This method worked for me, but next time I want to use a kitchen towel instead of paper towels since I’m trying to cut down on disposable paper products.

At this point, there are a few additional ways to prepare the tofu for either immediate consumption or use in a recipe. For my stir-fry, I decided to pan-fry the tofu first. With my southern palate, starting with something a little fried seemed like a good idea. I basically cut the tofu into thin strips and then fried it in a pan with a little oil. While it worked somewhat well, the whole process took much longer than I had expected.

Finally, I was ready to begin the stir-fry. Bittman tends to start with the easiest, most basic recipe and then build upon it, so I used the first stir-fry recipe in the book: Stir-Fried Tofu with Scallions. This part was actually not very hard at all. I stir-fried the pan-fried tofu with scallions, added a little vegetable stock, let it cook, and then tossed in a chopped up tomato and some sprouts. (I’m working on liking those as well…) Eating it along with some rice, the dish was edible but not great. This was disappointing given the amount of preparation time I had invested. My main complaint was, of course, the tofu. It had a chewy texture and not much flavor. The larger pieces were crispy on the outside but chewy on the inside, which is not an enjoyable combination for me.

I brought it to work the next day to eat for lunch and by then, the tofu had an even chewier texture, and the whole idea seemed utterly unappetizing.  It was akin to eating poorly cooked chicken. I couldn’t finish it, and ended up getting a pasta salad from the lunch counter in the lobby. My coworker suggested cutting the tofu smaller, and perhaps it would be more flavorful if I marinated it first. While this adventure with tofu didn’t end with overwhelming success or a new favorite recipe, I dipped my toe in the tofu waters, and perhaps that’s all an unlikely vegetarian can ask for.