Ever run into a recipe that is so easy and so tasty that you are dazed under its spell, obeying its command to make it again, and again, and again, until two weeks later you blink and say to yourself, “Damn, that was good.”

This recipe is why I bought the big honkin’ bottle of sesame oil.

Perfect for chlily nights when you have some time to cook, but not a lot of time, this sesame-peanut stir fry puts together pantry and freezer ingredients in about half an hour to create a comforting sweet-and-spicy assortment of veggies and rice. I love it for its…well, its heft. Vegetables and rice are so very light that they threaten to float away without something to anchor them down, and in winter that something is chunky peanut butter and luscious, dark sesame oil, anchored by onion, ginger, garlic, and lots of black pepper.

For a truly comforting experience, mix the rice right into the finished stir fry. We’re all at home here. If it’s late, we’re going to scoop some of this into a bowl and curl up on the couch with it, furtively, because we know we’re not supposed to.

And if we’re lucky, we have Babylon 5 in the DVD player, and it’s a Londo episode, with lots of Vir, because who knew Flounder could act?

Sesame Peanut Stir Fry

Recipe inspired by “Szechuan-style lo mein stir fry with broccoli slaw and peanuts” from The PDQ (Pretty Darn Quick) Vegetarian Cookbook: 240 Healthy and Easy No-Prep Recipes for Busy Cooks. I’ll often make this with a bag of mixed frozen vegetables — broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots. It’s great with basmati rice and the great part is, you can start the rice when you start cooking the stir fry, and they’ll both be done around the same time. P.S. Sesame peanut stir fry doubles easily to feed a crowd or have extra leftovers.

1 tablespoon canola oil
½ cup chopped onion
1-2 minced garlic cloves
¼ tsp black pepper
16-ounce frozen broccoli, thawed
⅓ cup water
⅓ cup reduced-sodium soy sauce
½ teaspoon ground ginger or 1 tablespoon minced fresh ginger
½ tablespoon sugar
1 package (approximately 14 ounces) firm or extra-firm tofu, drained and cubed
2 tablespoon chunky peanut butter
1 tablespoon toasted (dark) sesame seed oil
¼ cup unsalted chopped peanuts
cooked rice (I like basmati)

In large skillet, heat oil over medium heat. Add chopped onion and cook until softened, 3 minutes. Add garlic and black pepper and cook 1 minute.

Increase heat to medium-high and add broccoli. Cook, stirring occasionally, until warmed, 1 to 3 minutes.

Stir in water, soy sauce, ginger and sugar. Add cubed tofu, if using. Bring to a simmer.

Reduce heat to low and add peanut butter and sesame seed oil, stirring to incorporate; cook until heated through.

Serve on basmati rice. Sprinkle chopped peanuts on top.

This is the time of year when we write posts about how tired we are of winter. But I’m not. I’m totally over being tired of winter. I already gave in a few weeks ago to the allure of fresh produce, abandoning the frozen corn, green beans, and zucchini in favor of bean sprouts, cucumbers, and oh my lord grape tomatoes as big as your thumb.

There’s still part of a cabbage in the fridge — my cabbages grow to gigantic proportions, I don’t know why — but the last of fall’s carrots was gone over a month ago and yes, I tired of the old. I wanted the crunch of nutrients I hadn’t had fresh in months.

I abandoned locavore eating. Just until spring, and just once in a while. There’s something about fresh sprouts. They’re a promise. They’re potentiality. They could have become beans, but instead they’re going into my tummy. They’re earthy and new and taste of beginnings.

And this salad. Oh, this salad is all about the decadence, the utter wrongness, so wrong it’s right, of eating things that have been trucked two thousand miles. This is what perked me up, got me looking forward to the herb seeds I planted today, made me impervious to the clutch of the muddy clay that is my yard as I glop through it in winter boots, leaving wet dinosaur footprints that would fossilize when the ground dries, if I weren’t going to seed it with grass this spring.

We’ll be eating local again soon, very soon. And even now, I still take down a jar of pasta sauce made from my tomatoes and onions for supper, and pull 2008 applesauce from the freezer, still tree-fresh. But along with preserved homegrown every few days or so something like this salad pops into my mind, and demands attention.

I think it’s the cucumber seeds up on the shelf, whispering to me that they’re ready, almost ready. Ready to grow.

yes, peanut dressing is the bomb

Indonesian tofu, bean sprout, and cucumber salad with spicy peanut dressing, from Jeanne Lemlin’s Vegetarian Classics, takes simple ingredients and elevates them with this peanut dressing.

It’s to die for. Take tofu roasted in sesame oil and soy sauce, bean sprouts, cucumber, and green onion. Nice ingredients, but who cares?

Peanut dressing cares, that’s who. It’s just got all good stuff in it: peanut butter, soy sauce, brown sugar, lime juice, you know the drill. I’m sure you could find other uses for it beyond just this salad. A regular green salad, for example, or in a quinoa salad. Some kind of cold fried rice?

In any case, if you still suffer the winter blahs, consider breaking the locavore commitment for just a few meals, gather up some sprouts and cucumber, and try this salad.

indonesian tofu, bean sprout, and cucumber salad with spicy peanut dressing

Adapted from Vegetarian Classics by Jeanne Lemlin

servings: 4 as a side salad or very light meal; 2 as a meal

peanut dressing:

¼ cup natural-style peanut butter

2 tablespoons tamari soy sauce
 (choose a brand without wheat for going gluten-free)
1 tablespoon lime or lemon juice

2 tablespoons firmly packed brown sugar
1 garlic clove, minced
¼ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes

3 tablespoons water

salad:

1 recipe roasted tofu (recipe here)
2 cups mung bean sprouts

1 small English cucumber, sliced 1/4 inch thick

1 green onion, very thinly sliced, tops only

To make the spicy peanut dressing, combine all the dressing ingredients in a small bowl and beat vigorously with a fork or small whisk until very smooth.

To assemble the salad, spread 1/4 of the bean sprouts on each of 4 salald plates. Layer on 1/4 of the cucumber, followed by 1/4 of the tofu. Drizzle the dressing over each portion and garnish with sliced green onion.

About damn time we talked about tofu here, isn’t it? I mean, right up top there, it says “vegetarian, whole foods, and local foods recipes.” And yet, it’s taken all these months for humble tofu to even get a mention. Let’s rectify that now.

You can do this tofu roasted in a sesame and soy marinade in bite-sized pieces or in planks for sandwiches. Chewy and salty, with that smoky depth sesame lends, this roasted tofu is pretty irresistible. I have to forcefully resist just snacking on it as is until it’s all gone, it’s that good. Toss the bits into salads, or fried rice, or whatever strikes your fancy.

why should i care about bean curd?

Tofu’s the much-maligned vegetarian staple, inexorably linked with dirty hippies and horribly inappropriate preparations. Let’s run down some objections to tofu and then airily explain them away.

It’s a brick! That’s unnatural. I don’t eat square foods.

True, tofu often comes in blocks. However, it’s pretty natural. It’s just a solid form of soy milk, a liquid that comes from processing soybeans. I would say the technical term, that it’s coagulated soy milk, but that will probably just drive you further away. Chinese folks have been eating it for a few thousand years.

Tofu has no taste.

Absolutely true. Plain tofu has very little flavor. You know what’s neat about a food that has no taste? It becomes a vehicle for any flavor you want to attach to it. Tofu will soak up anything you add to it, be it soy sauce in a stir fry or honey in a smoothie.

Tofu triggers my texture issues.

Many people don’t like the silky, slightly gelatinous feel of tofu in its natural or slightly cooked state. While I’ve grown to kind of like that, I prefer to prepare tofu in ways that change that natural texture. Frozen and thawed tofu takes on a chewy, slightly spongy texture reminiscent of ground beef. I like to crumble thawed frozen tofu into stir fries, for instance. Silken tofus are used in desserts or blended into thick drinks, and have a smooth, creamy texture.

Tofu is too hard to prepare.

Some preparations are extra work; others, like tossing thawed frozen tofu crumbles into a stir fry, are effortless. This roasted tofu here is the same procedure as making roasted vegetables and yields yummy bites great for salads or sandwiches.

Thus ends the tofu lecture. I promise I’ll never do it again.

pressing tofu

I learned this method of pressing tofu (to get the excess liquid out) from Jenne Lemlin’s Vegetarian Classics: 300 Essential and Easy Recipes for Every Meal, which also happens to be the book I adapted this roasted tofu recipe from.

It’s way quicker than the “put a heavy book on top of it to press it for several hours” method you’ve probably heard of.

Here’s what you do:

Cut the block of tofu into slices the width you plan to cook. If cubing for a stir fry, this will be about half an inch. For the roasted tofu, I like making it in little chiclet-sized squares, so I cut it about a quarter-inch thick.

Put the slices on a paper towel or lint-free towel, then either put another paper towel on top or fold the cloth towel over, and press gently on the tofu pieces to release their liquid. Do this again, if you like, moving the tofu to a dry towel for the repeat.

That’s pretty much it. You can press again after cutting up the tofu into smaller pieces if you want it super dry. I’m really happy with this method of pressing tofu. It’s quick and not messy.

roasted tofu

Adapted from Vegetarian Classics: 300 Essential and Easy Recipes for Every Meal by Jeanne Lemlin.

oven: 450 degrees
prep: 40 minutes
cooking time: 25–30 minutes

1 (14 to 16 ounce) block of extra-firm tofu
1 tablespoon sesame oil
1½ tablespoons tamari or soy sauce
1 tablespoon rice vinegar

Cut tofu into ¼-inch slices. Lay out slices on a towel (lint-free cloth or paper), fold over or put another towel on top, and press gently on the tofu to get the liquid out. Repeat using dry area of the towel. Cut pressed tofu slices into ½-inch squares for bite-sized roasted tofu. If you’d like slabs to put in sandwiches, leave as is.

In a shallow dish such as a pie plate, whisk together the sesame oil, soy sauce, and rice vinegar. Add the cut up tofu, and with a wide spatula, gently mix to coat the tofu pieces with the mixture.

Marinate 30 minutes. Letting it sit out is fine. If you’re going to let it marinate longer (up to 24 hours), cover and refrigerate. Note: I’ve tried this with a 30-minute marinade and 24 hours. I preferred the tofu that had been marinated 30 minutes. Preheat oven to 450 degrees near end of marinating time.

Spread the marinated tofu pieces on a baking sheet and cook for 25-30 minutes, flipping once halfway through.

Note: If you can limit yourself to about 90g (just under a serving), this is a 100-calorie snack food.