Tofu is a polarizing (but protein-rich) ingredient: You should try it

To expand our lives, we have to work past the confusion into uncomfortable territory.
Sesame Roasted Tofu. CONTRIBUTED

Sesame Roasted Tofu. CONTRIBUTED

There’s a whole camp of people who wouldn’t touch it for its hippie-adjacent reputation and new-wave modular appearance. There’s a large collective who have never tasted it, but claim it as distasteful.

And even more that have acquired a negative opinion based on someone’s sister’s close-minded uncle’s review of it as “slimy.”

Tofu’s peculiar placement in the alternative-meat section of the grocery store cold cases further puzzles people, because, well, it’s not meat at all. People are also painfully confused by its foreign name, which sounds nothing like beef or chicken.

That’s the thing about food, and life, is that to expand our lives, we have to work past the confusion into uncomfortable territory. For this effort, we are rewarded with flavors, sounds, languages, and styles that enrich our experience. Some of them we will love, and we will return to again and again (ahem, this tofu).

Some of them we will not care for, and that’s okay. Our worlds are a little bit bigger, our minds more open, and our palettes more adventurous.

That is how we grow.

Me? There’s no food I won’t try. I was a vegetarian for several years before a burger was placed on a plate next to mine while I was pregnant with twins. The burger didn’t stand a chance. During my meat averse-era I was asked — what if you’re in Italy, you’re not going to try the bolognese?

What if you’re in Paris, you’re not going to try the escargot? What if you’re in Greece, you’re not going to have a whole fish grilled and smothered in olive oil while you listen to the waves of the Mediterranean?

The answer was always a resounding, YES! I will try everything. It’s the fastest portal into another culture, my mouth absorbing history and technique and landscapes and customs. And I love every minute of it — even if I don’t like the flavor (which is rare).

When I travel, I observe what everyone’s eating. What they’re holding as they walk the streets or what’s commonly between two friends at a cafe. I study menus to discover the commonalities and try to order and buy and try everything I see — even if I don’t know exactly what it is.

Let me make tofu more comfortable for you. It’s an ancient Chinese method of rinsing and boiling soy beans till curds form, straining the water and pressing the solids into a mold. If you think about it, it’s not unlike the process that goes into making your favorite cheese.

Forget the notion that it is a meat replacement. It’s not.

It gets that reputation because it boasts up to 15 grams of protein per serving and is often relied upon for a vegetarian protein source. But I can’t think of a food product that is less like meat.

Depending on the variety of the tofu you buy (there are different levels of firmness) the list of things you can make is infinite. You can blend the tofu into a smoothie or even ice cream to up the protein content.

You can puree it into a cream sauce for pasta or whip it into a dairy free ranch-like dip. You can fry it and dip it into a spicy peanut sauce or add it to a cabbage salad.

You can crumble, season, and fry it and turn it into something close to scrambled eggs.

I just want you to drop the idea that it’s going to be anything like meat because while it does have Main Character Energy and can anchor a plate — that’s where the similarities end. And unlike meat, it has virtually no fat or cholesterol if those are things you are concerned with.

For this tofu, I kept it simple. Consider it an open invitation to experiment. Some tofu requires a draining process but the High Protein Organic Super Firm Tofu at Trader Joe’s is ready to use.

I cut the block in half, then the half in thirds, then each third in half diagonally — making cute little triangles destined to be stuck in a pita with some slaw, tossed in a stir fry or thrown on a salad with crunchy red peppers and snap peas, maybe. You roll the triangles in a mixture of sesame oil and another neutral oil and a flurry of sesame seeds.

Place them on a parchment paper covered baking sheet and roast until golden and the corners begin to crisp.

If the thing that is keeping you from trying tofu is that it’s different from your routine peanut butter and jelly, burger or grilled cheese. Consider that, and then shed it immediately.

Go try one new food this week, even if it’s not this tofu. Do a little growing. Make me proud.

”But First, Food” columnist Whitney Kling is a recipe developer who lives in southwest Ohio with her four kids and a cat and is developing a food memoir that’s ever-nearing completion. If she’s not playing tennis or at a yoga class, she’s in the kitchen creating something totally addictive — and usually writing about it.


SESAME ROASTED TOFU

This recipe will transform the tofu haters into tofu lovers. The ease of preparation, crispy texture, and incredibly nutty flavor make this tofu the most versatile protein in your culinary arsenal.

Makes 6 servings

Prep time: 10 minutes

Cook time: 30 minutes

What you’ll need:

1 block firm tofu, drained and patted dry

2 tbsp. sesame oil

2 tbsp. grapeseed oil

1 tbsp. sesame seeds

1 tsp. Kosher salt

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees and line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Slice the block of tofu into 1 inch rectangles, then slice them in half into triangles. You should end up with 10-12 triangles. In a large bowl, mix the oils, sesame seeds, and salt. Gently add the tofu and turn them to coat them evenly with the mixture. Place the tofu on the prepared baking sheet and bake for 30 minutes, until darkened and crispy at the edges.

Notes: The sesame tofu triangles can be eaten alone, or stored in the refrigerator and added to bowls and salads.

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