Recipes: September 2004 Archives

If you are like me, there's not a thing in the world that makes you happier than a huge plate of vegan Southern food. This plate must include at least 3 of the following: Something salty, breaded and fried, something sweet and sticky, something green and leafy, something starchy, something gravy, something cornbread, something biscuit.

On Friday night, my lover working late, I set about preparing this plate of Southern Comfort. the main bulk of this meal was to come in the form of a recipe gleaned from the ever-talented Casey, with whom I lived for one glorious year directly after college.

In a jar I placed (in approximate amounts)
-2 cups of nutritional yeast
-one tablespoon each of:
-dill
-oregano
-basil
-"Spike"
-lemon pepper
-one teaspoon each of
-cayenne
-salt
-chili powder

(basically just put a little bit of all your savory spices into the yeast)

Then I cut a big hunk of firm tofu into small, fry-able pieces. I then breaded them in soymilk, flour, and the nutritional yeast concoction. I put a whole bunch of olive oil in a pan and got it real hot, then I deep-fried the hell out of that tofu. It got crispy and golden-brown and beautiful.

During this same time, I was making kale.

-put a bunch of kale in a pot
-put in half a cup of water
-put in 2 tablespoons of soy sauce
-heat on very low heat until kale is done (i.e. chewy but tender, and a lovely, vibrant green color)

I also heated up some canned baked beans, but that is not exciting.

At this point the door banged open and I walked out to say hello to Andrew, but he was not there. Filled immedidately with fear, I said, "...hello?" only to be greeted by Andrew barrelling out of the bedroom behind me in order to scare me. This is a true lowpoint in our relationship. If you know me at all, you know that that is an unacceptable thing to do. I screamed as loud as I could and tried to hit him in the face before getting ahold of myself and going to stand in the kitchen with my arms wrapped around my head, heart pounding wildly.

The beginning of our dinner was tinged with contrition on his part and a stony, punishing silence on mine.

However, the flaky, beautiful tofu soon brought us around to a state of loving friendship. Good lord, but that's a good meal!!!!!!!!!

THANK YOU, SOUTHERN COMFORT FOOD!

When I was young and being raised by sugar-hating hippies (hi, mom and dad!), the only treat more treasured than sugary cereals (consumed in large quantities at slumber parties) was the occasional illicit, mysterious Hostess treat that might fall my way. I think I'm not exaggerating when I say that I can count on two hands the total number of Hostess products I've consumed in my lifetime.

Of course, even as a kid I always realized that their actual taste--bland, mealy, sugar-on-sugar--paled in comparison to the ultimate treat they were in my imagination: the Platonic ideal of Dessert foundered upon the cruel rocks of mass industrial-chemical food production.

I'm glad to see that someone's come up with a better way to use twinkies than to eat them: make art with them! Oh, sure, this twinkie sushi recipe seems to think someone might eat it, but obviously it looks better than it tastes. (More twinkie "recipes")

Then there's the fancy-pants fish-and-chips spot in NYC that's earning fame, and serious newspaper write-ups, for their deep fried twinkies.

And, if your childhood palate is ready to grow up, but you're not ready to give up the gooey treats, try serving these homemade sno-balls at your next dinner party. They look uncannily accurate, but one bite will be enough to confirm that these "rich cakes made from Dutch-processed cocoa along with a slathering of ethereal Italian meringue" are all grown up.

(p.s. Is it legal to call for alcohol in a twinkie recipe?!)