Your Vegan Mom

BLT

The BLT is a sandwich I feel strongly about.  There is a right way to do it.  And while many would insist that way involves bacon, according to Paul, the B stands for beer, which is absolutely what you should serve this sandwich with.

Apart from beer, you need good crusty bread.  A soft crusted sandwich loaf will absolutely not work here.  There is a deli near my house that sells prepackaged vegetarian BLTs on whole wheat sandwich bread with yellow mustard and cheddar cheese.  Despite its proximity to my house and even its other reputable vegan offerings, I cannot patronize this establishment.  

Just before serving, you slather two slices of that good bread (lightly toasted if not super fresh) with your favorite vegan mayonnaise (which is vegenaise, of course).  The act of slathering is important here.  Your finished BLT should ooze and drip.  This is not a polite sandwich.

On top of one slice of slathered bread you place several slices of beautiful ripe tomato.  This is a summer sandwich.  Make it now while tomatoes are juicy and sweet.  You should be eating a BLT at least once a week until the tomatoes run out.

On top of the tomato you will arrange your slices of smoky braised tempeh.  The order matters.  The mingling of tomato juice, mayonnaise, and then the sweet, smoky, saltiness of the tempeh forms a sort of essential dressing within the sandwich.

Now on the other half of bread mash a quarter of a soft, ripe, oily avocado.  You can, of course, make a BLT without avocado, but it's always better with.  Take one big billowy leaf of lettuce - the sort with a nice little crisp rib near one edge - and fold it in half.  (I know an even more reputable sandwich shop that once used a handful of soft, peppery mixed baby greens for the L.  I don't eat there anymore either.  The pliable crunch and mild fresh flavor of leaf lettuce is a supporting, though essential, element of the BLT.) Gently press the lettuce into the avocado. 

Place the lettuce and avocado half on top of the tempeh and tomato half and devour.  Often.   

[A quick note on the kid-friendliness of this sandwich - the five year old will not touch it, but the two year old is a sandwich-stealing super fan.]  

Grilled Tempeh Sandwich

On Saturday we bought beds.  (Thank you for your help!)  Momentarily, I wondered what I would do with all that mental space freed up from bunk bed obsession.  Then the mail arrived, and with it, Saveur's sandwich issue.

So, now I'm thinking about banh mi and pimiento cheese and Lebanese flat bread and tortas and finger sandwiches.  Let me tell you, it's a mental improvement.

My current favorite sandwich is this grilled tempeh number.  It's how I want to eat this summer - barely cooked, colorful and fresh, and easily packed off to the park.  We have the best park in our neighborhood.  Last night, Desmond and Felix and I sauntered over there after dinner and there were two men playing acordians as the light turned pink and kids played.  There's often a man blowing giant bubbles and one of the musicians from last night sometimes puts on old timey puppet shows set to music.  This sandwich does not look portable - it's very at home on a plate, but I wrapped up the other half and ate it two hours later sitting on the couch with a glass of wine and a pile of cookbooks.

So, so enjoying all this mental space. 

Grilled Tempeh Sandwich

Makes: 2 big sandwiches
Takes: 20 minutes 

• 1 8-ounce block tempeh
• 1 - 2 tablespoons olive oil
• salt and pepper
• 1 cup of cherry tomatoes
• 1/2 cup corn kernels
• 1/4 cup minced onion, soaked in cold water
• juice of half a lemon
• 1/4 cup basil mayonaise (recipe below)
• a couple handfuls of wild arugula
• 4 slices of really good bread

Slice the block of tempeh into thirds and then cut each third into half so that you have 6 rectangles of tempeh.  In a cast iron skillet, or even better on an outdoor grill (in that case rub the tempeh with oil and salt), brown the tempeh in a couple tablespoons olive oil and season with salt and pepper.

While the tempeh is browning, halve or quarter the cherry tomatoes,and toss them with the corn, onion (drained and rinsed), lemon juice, and salt to taste.  

Slather each slice of bread with basil mayo and arrange grilled tempeh slices on one half of bread.  Pile the tomato salad on top.  Scoop a handful of arugula onto the other half. Put that sandwich together and enjoy.  

Basil Mayonnaise
Makes: about 3/4 cup 

• 1/2 cup vegenaise
• a handful of fresh basil leaves (More precise?  I used 18 large leaves.  I counted.  For you.)
• 1 clove garlic
• pinch of salt

Throw all that in the food processor or blender and puree until smooth.  Or, if, like me, you decide that you don't feel like dirtying any appliance, then finely chop the basil and mince the garlic, sprinkle with a pinch of salt and mash it into a paste with the flat side of your big knife.  Mix the basil and garlic paste into the mayo.  Or, if you happen to have some pesto in the fridge, just mix a heaping tablespoon into the mayonnaise.  

Biscuits and Gravy and Weekends

 

(I wrote this on Saturday morning.  There may be some verb tense confusion, but maaan, it's been a bit hectic here.  You'll forgive me, right?)  

 Desmond was at my mom's all last week.  This sounds great.  Three is such a fun and exhausting age, what with all the creative play (Seriously, if Bob the freaking Builder and I have to fix those noisy flipping pipes one more flipping time...) and instant melt downs (Candy is not a reasonable breakfast request, even if you call it fruit candy), that a few days off really should have been lovely.  

But it wasn't exactly planned.  I dropped him off on Tuesday after my computer wasn't ready and I was going to have to drive back across the city again the next day in the rain with two children to the not (surprise!) kid-friendly computer store, after I hadn't got any writing done for days following the catastrophic apple juice spill of last Tuesday. (This week's tip: children's beverages and laptops don't mix.)  But then it was raining so hard the next day that my mom decided to keep him just one more night instead of getting on one of Los Angeles' semi-flooded freeways.  And then the next day we had a couple lengthy doctors' appointments about Felix's poor misshapen head (I think he's going to need a helmet.  Anybody have experience with the DOC band?  Snake oil?  Medical necessity?  Nightmare experience?  Totally fine?  How about your insurance?  Was it covered?  I'm a bit of a wreck on the subject.)  And then, the rain again.  So Desmond inadvertently had a bit of an extended vacation with the grandparents.  And I didn't fully realize until he came home today, just how very, very much I missed him.

It is so nice to have our whole family at home right now.  Everybody is happy.  Paul.  Me.  The Baby.  Desmond.  It's even supposed to be sunny all weekend.  And we're going to investigate the lagoon-sized puddle in the park.  We discovered it on Monday afternoon during a brief break in the rain.  There were three families full of boys there with a boogie board, a foam surf board, a broom paddle, and lots of sticks.  It was like Tom Sawyer's Island, except there was also a delighted toddler in pink rain boots stomping about the edges.  We have some super serious playing scheduled for this weekend.  We'll need to fortify with a serious breakfast.

There will be biscuits.  And gravy.  I won't bore you with another biscuit recipe.  I've recently been loving this one, but I've had passionate flings with more biscuit recipes than I care to admit.   

And I like to think that this gravy serves them proud.  You simmer crumbled tempeh with breakfast sausage-y seasonings*, before whisking in your flour and milk.  It's easy and a whole lot better for you than the traditional version, leaving you more fat points for an extra biscuit.  With strawberry jam and a second cup of coffee, please.  

Sausage Gravy for Biscuits (or just life in general)

• 4 ounces tempeh (that's half a standard package)
• 3 tablespoons Bragg Liquid Aminos or soy sauce 
• 1 tablespoon maple syrup
• 1 tablespoon canola oil
• 1/4 teaspoon liquid smoke
• 1/4 cup water
• 1/4 teaspoon rubbed sage
• 1/4 teaspoon paprika
• 1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
• 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
• small pinch of fennel
• 2 tablespoons flour
• 1 cup soy milk (or other non-dairy milk)
• salt and pepper to taste

Crumble or roughly chop the tempeh.  Combine the Bragg's through the fennel in a small sauce pan.  Add the tempeh and simmer over low heat until all the liquid is absorbed.  

Turn up the heat a bit, add the flour and cook, stirring, for about a minute, just to get rid of the raw flour flavor.  Stir in the milk, and let simmer to thicken.  Add salt and pepper to taste.  Serve hot over biscuits.

(Gravy can be made ahead and reheated.  If gravy thickens too much, whisk in more milk.)

 

*Sausage-y seasonings totally inspired by Lindsay Nixon's seitan breakfast sausage recipe in this month's Vegetarian Times.  Thanks!   

 

Pan Bagnat

I've done this before.  Actually I think it's more my MO than anything apologize-worthy as an aberration.  I have the perfect recipe for you to make two weeks ago.  But maybe you don't use every foreign holiday (in this case Bastille Day) as an excuse to picnic or make some sort of themey dinner, and then really this is the perfect sandwich for you to make all summer.  Already, it has been the ideal hand held meal for 6 (along with salad and dessert)at the bluegrass concert in the park last Sunday, and an entire meal for 3 on the beach a couple Saturdays ago.  Earlier in the month, I halved the recipe for Paul and me, and made a peanut butter sandwich for Desmond to take to free family night at Kidspace.  

Did I tell you about all my picnicking plans this summer?  Our budget will not allow any exciting travels, so picnics are what we are doing.  It seems like there is a concert in the park or an outdoor movie or the lure of a shady table next to a playground to keep us entertained all summer.  And while, I still really want to figure out how to at least swing a little family camping trip before this baby comes, for the moment I'm content with my sandwich.

If you've never had one, a pan bagnat, is a traditional southern French dish that means bathed bread in the local nicoise dialect.  What turns it into a picnic ideal, is that unlike most sandwiches it gets better the longer it sits in your basket.  All the flavors merge and seep into the bread and it just becomes one whole delicious mass.  Normally it's made with tuna, yours has tempeh.  

Vegan Pan Bagnat
Inspired by Florence Fabricant's recipe for pan bagnat sliders in the New York Times, June 9, 2009.

1 baguette (it's fine if it's not super fresh)
1 clove garlic, sliced in half
1/4 cup olive oil
about 3 tablespoons tapenade
2 thin slices sweet onion, halved and pulled apart 
8 basil leaves
3/4 c. tempeh mixture (see recipe below)
1 plump summer tomato, halved and sliced
black pepper

Tear off a peace of foil big enough to securely wrap your sandwich.  Set aside, but within reach!  Cut the baguette in half length-wise, and rub each half with garlic.  Brush with olive oil, then smear with a thin layer of tapenade.  On one half, layer on your onion, basil, tomato, and mold your tempeh mixture on top.  Grind a bit of black pepper over the tempeh mixture, and place other half of bread on top.  Firmly wrap and gently press down on the sandwich as you go.  Now weigh it down with a cutting board topped with cookbooks, or a cast iron griddle works nicely too.  Press your sandwich for about an hour.  Unwrap and slice into pieces to serve.  

Tempeh Mixture for Pan Bagnat

8 ounces tempeh (that's 1 standard package)
braising liquid:
1/4 cup soy sauce
3 tablespoons lemon juice
1/4 cup white wine
1 teaspoon herbes de provence
water to make 2 cups

Mix ingredients for braising liquid in a glass measuring cup.  Crumble or dice tempeh.  In a medium sauce pan, bring tempeh and braising liquid to a simmer.  Continue to simmer over medium low heat for 30 - 35 minutes until most of the liquid has been absorbed and cooked off.  Drain any excess liquid.   

You won't use all of the tempeh in your sandwich, but we have been making this sandwich so often, that I find it's nice to have the leftover mixture on hand.  Of course, if you like more variety, I bet it would be equally nice on a salade nicoise.  

Tomato n' Grits

 

You know that smokey tempeh we made on Tuesday?  Today we're going to class it up a bit.  Here's how this recipe came about:

1) I had this big beautiful heirloom tomato sitting on my counter for a few days last week before I figured out what I wanted to do with it.  After spending almost 4 dollars on one piece of vegetable-like fruit, I just did not feel comfortable hiding it between slices of bread.  No, I'm gonna let it shine.  

2) I managed to bring home some serious grits.  When I was living in Shreveport and read through every book on Southern cooking that I could find in the excellent local library, I kept coming across a chefy insistence on Anson Mills stone-ground grits.  I discovered that I could order them straight from the mill in South Carolina, or drive 6 hours to the Whole Foods in New Orleans, or ironically, purchase them with ease in Los Angeles from Surfas.  So finally, now that I am back in Southern California I have some honest to god grits.    

(I love Surfas.  Chances are, if you've looked everywhere for some obscure ingredient or tool, and just can't find it, Surfas has got you covered.  Plus, it's just so much fun to wander the aisles and play restaurant, picking out your industrial mixer and wiener warmer.  Also, they sell bakery boxes individually which can't help but make a hastily decorated cake or sloppy pie crust look professional.)

3) When I was reading all of those cookbooks and Louisiana Cookin' magazine, one of the most frequent recipes that I came across was for shrimp and grits.  As I unpacked my Surfas bag and set my new carton of grits on the counter next to that pound of succulent deep coral tomato flesh, I knew what we were having for dinner.

Which was really unfortunate, because I had forgot how flippin' long it takes for flippin' stone-ground grits to flippin' cook.  2 hours.  With a lot of stirring.  So after we made the boy a bowl of cereal I set to cooking, and the Paul and I ate dinner all cosmopolitan grown-up style at 9 PM and went to bed on incredibly unfashionable full stomachs shortly thereafter.   

I have to say, the stone ground grits were absolutely worth it, but assuming you have the normal kind that you buy in the grocery store or that you have pre-soaked your grits like the lovely Anson Mills website advises, well then this is one easy meal with a luxurious pay-off.  The smoky tempeh and creamy grits studded with little explosions of sweet corn just play so nicely with a perfect late summer tomato.  We all loved this meal.   

Tomato N' Grits

Serves 4

1 pound tomatoes, coarsely chopped 

1 clove garlic, minced

1 green onion, green and white parts, chopped

a pinch of red chile flakes

1/2 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves 

2 tablespoons olive oil

about 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

salt and pepper

4 slices of smoky tempeh

1 cup dry grits, cooked according to package instructions

1 ear corn

Prepare grits according to package or website directions.  Near the end of cooking, stir in the kernals of one ear of corn.  Scrape the cob with the back of a knife to get every last bit of luscious milk into the pot.  If you've never done this you'll be surprised at how much corny goodness you've been missin'.    

In a large skillet, heat olive oil over medium-low heat.  Add garlic, chile flakes, and white part of the green onion.  Cook for 2 to 3 minutes until softened and fragrant.  Add tomatoes, onion tops, and fresh thyme and simmer for 5 to 10 minutes until tomatoes have given up some of their liquid, but still have some structural integrity.  Season with salt, pepper, and lemon juice.  

To serve: spoon grits into shallow bowls.  Top with crumbled tempeh and a scoop of tomatoes.  A sprig of fresh thyme would really make a nice garnish.