Viet World Kitchen

Seared Snap Peas, Eggplant and Fermented Tofu Recipe

Many people adore snap peas but I’m lukewarm about them. I associate them with commercially packaged crudite packages filled with raw broccoli and cauliflower florets, and unreal capsule-shape carrots, all surrounding a tub of dressing/dip. Then there were 1990s, when I ‘discovered’ snap peas and cooked them whole on high heat, thinking I’d replicate the glamorous dishes found at restaurants and in magazine photos. I was consistently disappointed by the slippery green pods that were cute but hard to chase around the plate, especially with chopsticks.

A couple of weeks ago, I had a snap pea turnaround at La Posta, a nice Cal-Italian restaurant in Santa Cruz. We ordered a side (contorni) of snap peas and squash with lovage (an herb) and ricotta salata (dryish, lightly salted ricotta). It sounded unusual and it tasted surprisingly good, mostly because of the way the snap peas were cut (into small pieces) and cooked (seared on high heat till they got some color). It wasn’t the most beautiful dish because the snap peas were an olive green, but the cooking method turned the snap pea into a serious vegetable, one with complexity that went beyond its mere snappiness.  

Spicy Basil Chicken and Tofu Recipe

The Hmong farmers have returned to our weekly farmer’s market with a wealth of Asian produce. Last Saturday, they had gorgeous Thai basil and I swooped down upon a couple of bunches. Basil discolors quickly, its shelf life under refrigeration is just a few days. I wasn’t about to let it go to waste and thought of Thai chicken and basil, a simple stir-fry.

The thing is, I didn’t want to make the dish with all chicken so I worked in some tofu. I substituted 10 ounces (300 grams) of extra-firm tofu for 8 ounces (240 grams) of the chicken in the original recipe, which called for a pound. That’s one of several strategy for using tofu for low-meat dishes.

The keys to this dish include (1) washing and drying the basil leaves (keep them whole) and (2) seasoning and panfrying the tofu.

To seal in the moisture in the chicken, I lightly coat it with cornstarch and soy sauce; it’s typically added to the wok as is, only to be embellished by flavors during the cooking process. Dark soy sauce adds color but the black soy sauce is semi sweet. With so little used, I suppose you could use kecap manis, if you want. 

 You can make this dish with mint or Italian basil but for the real deal, Thai basil’s warm spice note is magnificent. If flowers are present on the sprigs, use them!

How to Use Tofu for Low-Meat Dishes

I like to eat meat, but just not in large quantities. I’m a low-meat eater, having grown up in a household where animal protein was never presented at the table in the form of entire roasts or birds. No Normal Rockwell images at the holidays. Food was offered in bite size pieces to (1) make it easier to pick up with chopsticks and (2) feed our family of seven on a budget. We consumed a lot of vegetables via canh (soups), lettuce and raw herbs, stir-fries, and noodle dishes. We regularly ate tofu too, usually seasoned with fish sauce and/or cooked with meat in various Vietnamese preparations. Yes, you can have your meat and eat tofu too!

I didn’t know of vegetarian tofu scrambles, tofu steaks, and tofu blanketed by cheese sauce until I moved to Santa Cruz, California, in the late 1990s. A bastion for natural living, there were and still is a vegetarian restaurant named Dharma’s. At the opposite end of the spectrum is the Hindquarter Bar and Grille, whose motto is: “where the elite meat.”  

I live and eat between those extremes and tofu plays a key role. If you want to consume less animal protein and/or save money, you don’t have to forgo meat altogether. Having tofu in your diet is not about deprivation, or some kind of monk-like existence. Without sacrificing flavor and with a little help from tofu, you can turn many meat-filled dishes (e.g., stews, curries, stir-fries, dumpling filling, meatballs and meatloaf – not roast beef) into low-meat ones. Here are some ideas:

High on Spice: 4 Kinds of Sichuan Peppercorns to Try

The U.S. ban on Sichuan peppercorn imports was lifted in 2005 and the spicy numbing pods have been making their rounds in food-centric circles. Yes, you can buy the Asian spice online and even at Whole Foods! Chinese markets have a big supply these days too. The kind that’s typically found is brick-colored and mostly comprised of potent husks occasionally still holding a dark colored seed. The flavor is menthol like. My tongue usually goes numb from the edges to the center.

It’s a strange Asian spice. The first time I tasted Sichuan peppercorn, I thought I was going to die, like someone had slipped me something. When my dad tried some Chinese candy with Sichuan peppercorn (I got them in Chengdu), he was alarmed by the flavor and effect. “What’s going on?!” he said.

But there’s a wide range of Sichuan peppercorns and I’ve been collecting them in my spice drawer and freezer. The spice is used in many parts of Asian, not just Sichuan, which is why there are variations. Here are four that I’ve gathered:

Mapo Tofu’s Secret Sauce: Dou Ban Jiang (Chile Bean Sauce)

The first tofu dish that I really fell in love with was ma po dou fu (aka mapo tofu) a Chinese specialty made with ground meat, tofu, salty/hot/rich sauce and numbing Sichuan peppercorn. If you have Asian Tofu, the recipe headnote tells the story how as a teen permitted to tag along on an adult lunch, I quietly ate most of what was served while the adults socialized. I wasn’t anti-social. I’d discovered a ridiculously delicious dish.

Over the years, I’ve tried out countless mapo tofu recipes and finally went to Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan province, where the dish originated. It was a central part of my tofu field work because I was looking to explore tofu hot spots and iconic dishes. While I learned a lot about various renditions of mapo tofu – from home cooks and restaurants including Chen’s (a chain built on the original version), I gained insight into what makes truly excellent versions: Dou ban jiang, a seasoning sauce made with fermented broad beans (fava beans) and chile.

The brick-red sauce may seem mysterious but once you try it out in mapo tofu, it lends a wonderfully savory, fundamental funk like no other. If you’ve made mapo with other chile sauces or bean sauces, they’ll pale by comparison to the results made with dou ban jiang.