Your Vegan Mom

Simple Creamy Pasta

Did I tell you that on our first date, I invited Paul up to my apartment at three in the morning and made him dinner?  I was so young and naive, but fortunately so was he.

That night, almost 16(!) years ago, in my very first kitchen, I made pasta with bell peppers and tomatoes and fresh mozzarella.  (I didn't ditch the cheese until a couple years later.)

This pasta here is just the sort of dish that you could casually whip up at three in the morning with what you probably have on hand, all while sipping a glass of wine, shooing away your college roommate, and looking like a domestic goddess.

Incidentally, it is also a perfect lunch to prepare for two hungry children under the age of five because you need to go grocery shopping and you're out of bread and this will only take about 3 more minutes than pb&j anyway and you're still wearing your sweaty gym clothes from your visit to the Y fives hours previous.

But also, I was thinking we're all going to need some almost instant dinners in our arsenal as the days get shorter and the back-to-school schedules get more harried.  

This pasta is perfect for all those scenarios.  It's flexible.  I used spinach because it's what I had (and of course it cooks quickly) but you can use whatever vegetable odds and ends you have in the house.  Mushrooms or broccoli or kale would all be delicious.   

Almost Instant Semi-Fancy Pasta
makes: 3 grown-up servings 
takes: about 12 minutes

• 8 ounces whole wheat penne (or half a bag)
• 1 teaspoon olive oil
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 big handfuls of baby spinach
• pinch of salt
• 2 heaping tablespoons sliced sun-dried tomatoes packed in oil
• 1/3 cup vegan parmesan
• about 1/3 cup pasta water
• black pepper 

About 5 minutes before your pasta is done cooking, heat the olive oil and garlic in a big skillet over medium-low heat.  When the oil is hot and the garlic smells wonderful, add the spinach and a pinch of salt to the pan.  Toss it around with the oil and garlic until wilted.  Add the tomatoes with their oil.  It's probably time to scoop the pasta out of the water and into the pan with the vegetables - if you don't have a big slotted spoon called a spider, well you should probably get one - they're cheap and useful - but if you don't have one, drain your pasta, but reserve about a cup of the pasta water for the sauce.  Add the parmesan to the pan and stir it around to coat the pasta.  Drizzle in enough pasta water to give it a creamy consistency.  Stir.  Taste for salt.  

Serve (grown-up portions) with a few cracks of black pepper.

Notes on kid-friendliness: No, neither of my kids ate the sun-dried tomatoes, but the oil they're packed in gives this dish a nice flavor and the tomatoes are easily avoided and saved for me.  Felix ate around the spinach, sigh, but Desmond ate it.  If I had had more time I would have chopped it finely - that will sometimes work with the 2-year-old.  

Okonomiyaki [Simple, Delicious, and Vegan]

Cut into wedges, okonomiyaki makes a good snack for a party or a gaggle of 4-year-olds.  

I never told you about the okonomiyaki obsession of late 2010.  Right there in the middle of Christmas hysteria, between baking 10,000 cookies and tracking down mittens and addressing cards, I was seized, simply seized, by a need for okonomiyaki, or a large Japanese pancake.  I know that okonomiyaki is a large Japanese pancake because I had one once.  It was good, even really good, but seriously, where did this sudden obsession come from?

I can't say.  But I for one, heed the call, especially when it comes smack dab in the middle of Christmas hysteria.  (Right.  Respite from Christmas hysteria.  That's where it came from.)

So, I put down the cookie sheet and scoured the internet.  Eggs, eggs, eggs.  Obviously, it's a large pancake - eggs are a traditional binder.  Alternatively, grate some nagaimo to a sticky pulp.  No.  I need okonomiyaki now, and my vegetable crisper is fresh out of Japanese mountain yam.  And then I remembered the most obvious source to turn to - the vegan Japanese cookbook right there on my own shelf.  

And there was just the recipe that I was looking for - composed entirely of ingredients already present in my kitchen, easy to throw together, and producing results that perfectly satisfied my compulsion.  

I was happy, and I rediscovered a great cookbook in the process - Japanese Cooking: Contemporary & Traditional [Simple, Delicious, and Vegan].  (How did this book almost completely leave my consciousness?)  

The author, Miyoko Nishimoto Schinner, has a whole chapter on homey modern day classics - Japanese foods that have joined the lexicon in the last several generations - things like that big pancake and curry rice and katsu that she describes as the American equivalent of pizza and macaroni and cheese - comfort foods.  Included in this chapter are  even dishes not commonly seen outside of Japan, like a creamy sauce served over rice called doria.  

I haven't tried that yet, but we did make a more traditional dish - a hearty winter miso soup variation with potatoes and onions to accompany the okonomiyaki.  It was a perfect January meal - even for a mild Southern California evening - the meal was both hearty and light.  I have at least 6 more recipes dog-eared to try in the coming weeks - fried tofu dumplings and a Japanese pilaf and spinach with sesame sauce.  

How about you?  Have you made anything from this cookbook?  

Okonomiyaki [Simple, Delicious, and Vegan]
from Japanese Cooking: Contemporary & Traditional [Simple, Delicious, and Vegan] by Miyoko Nishimoto Schinner, reprinted with permission of the Book Publishing Company (I added a few of my own notes in parentheses.)

• 2 cups water (or broth - next time I'm going to try it with konbu stock)
• 1/4 pound regular tofu (or about 1/2 cup)
• 2 1/2 cups whole wheat pastry flour or all-purpose flour (as usual, I went halfsies.)
• 1 teaspoon salt 
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• 4 or 5 cups thinly sliced or slivered vegetables: onions, carrot matchsticks, cabbage, broccoli, green beans, mushrooms, etc. (Last night I used 2 shredded carrots, half a minced onion, and 4 large leaves of bok choy, crunchy parts finely chopped, leafy parts shredded)

Puree the water and tofu in a blender until smooth.  Combine the flour, salt, and baking powder in a large bowl, and mix well.  Pour in the liquid mixture, and mix lightly.  Add the vegetables and mix well to combine.

Cook large pancakes on a lightly oiled skillet or griddle over medium-low heat until browned on both sides.  Serve while hot with soy sauce or tonkatsu sauce.

Yield: 4 - 6 servings

Your Vegan Okonomiyaki Sauce
This is totally not traditional, and not at all Ms. Schinner's fault - it's a fairly wild departure from an approximation of what other people put on their okonomiyaki.  It's also wildly delicious.  

• 1/2 cup vegenaise
• 2 tablespoons kecap manis (or 1 tablespoon soy sauce and 1 tablespoon maple syrup in the likely event that you don't keep this Indonesian condiment on hand.)
• 1 - 3 teaspoons sriracha hot sauce (or leave it out if you don't want it hot)
• 1 teaspoon sesame oil

Stir together.  Adjust to your taste.  Serve with hot okonomiyaki.   

House Tofu

Have I told you this already?  Desmond has gotten picky.  I suppose it was inevitable - he is a child.  But even so, it seems bad.  For example, here's a conversation that he had with his pal in the sandbox on Friday:

Mauro: I'm cooking rice and peas.

Desmond: I don't like peas.

Mauro: I won't put peas in yours.  I'll make you rice and corn.

Desmond: I don't like corn.

Mauro: Okay, you can cook your own.

Seriously, if the other almost four-year-old has already given up on him, how am I supposed to get a varied diet into this little body?  Yesterday, on the way home from the store, when he and I were discussing what we were eating for dinner.  (Barbecued seitan sandwiches with cole slaw.)  And I waited for his predictable response, wondering whether he was going to go with, "I don't like seitan," or "I don't like cole slaw," he surprised me.  He didn't say either of those things.

His response?  "I don't like barbecue sauce."

I had to laugh.  And ask him what he does like.  Apparently at this point in his career, the boy likes peanut butter and jelly, and tofu.  Here's how we eat it most often -

House Tofu
This is the basic way that I prepare tofu to use in sandwiches or serve with rice, and greens, and savory sauce.

• 1 pound extra firm tofu
• 3 tablespoons Bragg's Liquid Aminos or soy sauce
• 3 tablespoons lemon juice (that's the juice of your average lemon)
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 2 cloves of garlic, smashed and peeled

Slice tofu into cubes or slabs for sandwiches.  Whisk together the remaining ingredients.  Pour over tofu.  Toss to somewhat evenly coat and set aside to marinate for an hour or two or even better, overnight.  Heat a cast iron skillet over medium, and cook the tofu for about three minutes on each side until lightly browned.

Baked Tostada Shells

 

We eat tostadas approximately once a week.  They are easy, endlessly varied according to what vegetable odds and ends we have on hand, enjoyed by every member of the family in slightly different forms (Desmond - just beans on tortilla, vegetables on side; Felix - pre-salted beans, plain chunks of avocado; Trina and Paul - everything plus hot sauce), and an excellent use of less than fresh tortillas.  The only down side is the tortilla frying.  So we ditched it.  We now smear the tortillas around in a bit of oil and then bake them in a hot oven until crunchy and browned.  Topped with refried beans and a quick salsa or slaw of whatever you have around, dinner is ready.  Here are some topping options:

• corn, bell pepper, onion, cilantro, lime juice, touch of agave, salt and pepper
• cabbage, onions, cumin, oregano, orange juice, lime juice, salt and pepper
• shredded zucchini and carrot with lemon juice, cumin, minced chile, olive oil, salt and pepper
• sliced avocado, squeeze of lime, dash of salt, shake of hot sauce
• leftover tempeh asado

Baked Tostada Shells

• 6 corn tortillas
• about 2 tablespoons mild cooking oil

Heat oven to 400.  Drizzle oil over cookie sheet.  Smear each tortilla around in the oil to lightly coat each side.  Bake for 15 minutes, flipping tortillas once so that they brown evenly.

Fake Meat (and Side Dish Spaghetti)

 

A couple months ago Desmond brought me an overturned frisbee/platter heaped with plastic farm animals.  "Here Mommy, soy chicken.  Soy piggy."

To my horror, he seems to have a pretty matter-of-fact, three-year-old understanding of what meat is.  He gets it.    

It makes me think of that story in Eating Animals*, where Jonathan Saffron Foer talks about that defining childhood moment when a teenage babysitter asked him, "You know that chicken is chicken, right?" 

I'm not sure how I feel about him having this understanding so early.  It's an interesting side-effect of raising a vegan kid, that he's ironically not-sheltered from the reality of meat.  

He sometimes tests my reaction by adding animal products to his "recipes."  He will slowly list the ingredients in his cake, "sugar...flour... and... cow milk," as he coyly watches my reaction.  I respond, again, "Could you make mine with soy milk, please."  And so soy has become the magic vegan modifier.  When I decline the imaginary animal ingredient, he'll hastily add soy, as if duh, that's what he meant all along.  The word soy turns anything unpalatable into a mouth watering food stuff.  Soy spiders have become a popular ingredient in his cooking.  

And he nows claims that, "Soy chicken is my favorite," despite the fact that this is something that we rarely eat and were making a concerted effort to not even say, with the idea that that sort of terminology would be unnecessarily confusing for a kid that had no experience of chicken as a food.

But as Paul is fond of saying, "Parenthood is where your good intentions go to die."  (Desmond is watching TV while I write this.)  And so when the nice Gardein people offered to send us some of their new fake meat products, I said, heck yeah, my kid will totally eat that.  

 

 And he did, a bit.  I find that these sort of foods are more for the grown-ups with the nostalgic food cravings, than for the nice clean little palates of children.  But we were all fans of the crisp breaded chicken strips ("7 Grain Crispy Tenders" in Gardein parlance) that you bake in the oven.  The thin chick'n scallopini made great sandwiches.  The beefless tips were perfect in a quick beef with broccoli style stir fry one night, and I imagine would be super-satisfying in a hearty winter stew.  The buffalo wings were way too spicy for Desmond, and just not enticing enough for Paul and me.  On the other hand, the grown-ups hogged the marinara and daiya cheese stuffed cutlets to ourselves along with some side dish spaghetti after the kids went to bed.  Ah, tasty, oozy nostalgia.    

And in case you find yourself in possession of some of that fake chicken or just in need of one of those somewhat instant meals that you can pull together when you don't think you have any food in the house, have some -

Side Dish Spaghetti  

This is not the sort of dish that you follow a recipe for.  Let's just talk it through.  

You'll need:

•  spaghetti (This tip recommends a nickel-size serving for your average adult, a dime for a child and a quarter for a big eater.  That's if you're gripping the uncooked spaghetti in the ring formed by your thumb and index finger.  But with practice, you just know.)   
• olive oil or non-dairy butter (About a tablespoon per serving, but just swirl or scoop it in until it looks right.  You can add more or less to your own taste.  Because you're going to add moisture with the starchy pasta water you have wiggle room on how much oil you add.)
• minced garlic (About a clove per serving, more or less depending on how much you like garlic.)
• nutritional yeast (About 2 teaspoons per serving - this will add some body to the sauce as well as a bit of nutritional heft and that mild cheesy flavor.)
• pasta water (about 1/4 cup per serving, but add more if it seems dry.  Conversely, if it's too wet, either add a bit more nutritional yeast, or cook it off.)
• italian parsley (about 2 teaspoons minced per serving - if you don't have this on hand it's not the end of the world.  You can make do without, or maybe you have something else green you can replace it with?  A handful of shredded baby spinach would work.)

While your spaghetti boils, gently heat a swirl of olive oil or a pat or two of butter in a big skillet (or a small one if this is just for you).  Add your garlic and stir it around until it smells delicious.  Don't let it brown.  Use tongs or one of those big claw-like spaghetti spoons to fish the pasta out of the pot and into the garlicky oil. (If your pasta isn't just al dente at the moment that your garlic is fragrant, take the skillet off the stove and wait for the pasta to catch up.)  Scoop some pasta water onto the pasta.  (Add a little bit more than you want in the end because the pasta is still going to absorb a bit of water and some will cook off.)  Add some nutritional yeast and minced Italian parsley and stir it around.  Let the whole thing simmer for a minute until the pasta is toothsome-tender and the flavor bits are clinging to the pasta.  

 

*Did you read it?  I really don't like reading about sad animals, but I really do like good writing and Jonathan Saffron Foer, and I think this book is shockingly good.  He coaxes you in with warm writing and funny stories and then sneaks in all sorts of important information.  It's so well done.  What did you think?