Frozen Tofu and Fresh Spring Rolls.

Seeing as I am neither vegan or vegetarian, I feel my affinity for tofu is wholeheartedly genuine. I do feel my kitchen enthusiasm may be slipping a little however, since I recently read a book on making tofu, and I didn't once attempt to make it. Maybe it's because I'm really trying harder to spend more time outdoors, but I think it was also in part because we have a pretty amazing local company who make it fresh so I don't have to try. It's as tasty as it is affordable, and actually I don't like to overdo my soy consumption. I treat tofu like I do meat, eating it only occasionally and savoring it when I do.

A couple of weeks ago, I took a Thai cooking class taught by my friend Nell. Admittedly, I have never cooked much in the Far Eastern realm. I tend to stick closer to my Eastern European and Mexican roots maybe, but I love being so inspired not only to learn more about the culture of the Far East, but also to attempt some foodstuffs that may or may not be an educated, Americanized version of their spicy fresh flavors.

One thing we made at the class were fresh spring rolls - such an easy task that I couldn't believe I'd never done it actually. Sitting around a communal table that evening, the vegetarian girls next to me asked if I'd ever frozen a block of tofu before baking it, and I had to admit I'd never done that either. I suspected it would be an efficient way of draining out the excess moisture prior to searing it up in the oven, and I couldn't really wait too long to try it out. I promptly bought a block of tofu, brought it home, and popped it into the freezer.

Simple Soyman. Frozen, defrosted.

A week in a frozen state, I took the tofu out yesterday to defrost, curious if the texture would taste as spongy as it looked. It did, but really in a great way. I should maybe back up and preface this by saying that I'm not a person easily put off by the texture of foods. I don't know of much that I've tried and disliked due to texture - except for the odd piece of raw fish that has been cut wrong rendering it chewy and nearly (in my eyes) inedible.

When the block was fully defrosted, I sliced it into 4 fat slices and gently pressed out at much extra water as I could. Then, I let it sop up a marinade - which it did in no time - exactly like a sponge should. After cooked, it was still vaguely sponge-like, but flavorful, and keeping it's nice, toothsome texture even overnight. It's definitely a trick I'll use again.

The heat of the oven did give it an accomplished sear. I based the tofu marinade, and the whole recipe really, on a favorite Moosewood recipe that uses both baked tofu and pineapple with other Thai flavors like cilantro and peanut. I was nearly out of shoyu though, and the marinade was a bit skimpy, but fortunately the spongy tofu absorbed every last drop of it.

As I was throwing the cubes of tofu in a bowl with some fresh pineapple (which has been a staple around here lately since they've been so tasty), I still had no idea that this tofu would become a spring roll. After a late lunch today and a day filled with plenty of sunshine and warming temps outside, I guess Spring was on my mind. One little spring roll was plenty for a light supper, but I do look forward to rolling a few more for lunch tomorrow.

The idea of the original Moosewood recipe is to top a green salad with the marinated and baked tofu, fresh (or canned) pineapple, a vinegary dressing, and plenty of peanuts, carrots and bean sprouts. Instead, I tossed the tofu with pineapple, cilantro, shredded carrots and a touch of oil. Then I made Nell's peanut sauce, improvising with what I had in the pantry. I daresay that I'd serve these to my chef friend, and be quite proud of them!

You can certainly use fresh tofu that has been weighted and pressed for a half hour to remove moisture instead of freezing it first. The texture will be different, maybe preferable to you.

Spicy Tofu Pineapple Spring Rolls with Peanut Sauce (inspired by Moosewood Daily Special and Nell Benton)

For the tofu: freeze one block (about a pound) of fresh (not silken) tofu. A day or many days later, defrost (under refrigeration) and cut into 4 equal slices. Press out any extra liquid and set aside to make the marinade.

Tofu Marinade (eyeball everything into the pan you will use to bake in)

• 1/4 c. shoyu (or similar soy sauce) (I used about 2 T. with good result)
  
• 2 T. rice vinegar
• 1 T. veg oil
• 1 T. brown sugar
  
• 2 t. fresh grated ginger
• a chile pepper, minced (or dried red chile flakes to taste and home canned candied jalapeno juice like I used)

Preheat oven to 400. Turn the tofu over a few times to fully coat it in the marinade, it will soak it all up if you have first frozen the block. Bake for about 20 minutes, until the first side is seared and toasty looking, then flip and bake about 20 minutes longer until the other side matches. (When the tofu cooks, mix up the peanut sauce - see below.) Cool slightly, cut into cubes, and place in a bowl.

To the tofu bowl, add about as much pineapple as you have tofu, or less if you like things less sweet. Add one or two shredded carrots, some cilantro to taste and maybe some more chile flake. Use right away or refrigerate for later use.

To make the spring rolls, soak spring roll wrappers one at a time (I got this kind, locally, at a much better price...) in cool water for a minute to soften. Put it on a plate, add the filling, sprinkle with roasted peanuts, and fold and roll up kind of as you would a burrito. Serve immediately with peanut sauce.

Peanut Sauce (again, this is eyeballed)

• 1/2 c. coconut milk (I used some of the thickened coconut "butter" that sometimes forms when you make homemade, it made it nicely creamy)
  
• 2 T. peanut butter
  
• 1 T. red curry spice (I used dried, Nell recommends Masaman curry paste)
• 1 T. fish sauce
• lime juice
• 1 T. sugar (I just got some jaggery, and used it)

Heat all ingredients gently in a small saucepan, taking care not to bring to a boil. Taste to adjust seasonings.

I think with all of this talk about tofu, I may just end up trying to make my own yet. It doesn't really seem all that complicated, and I just need some soybeans after all... though I can't promise I would put any of my homemade stuff into the freezer.

My final thoughts on frozen tofu? Use it as a preservation method if you have a block that is close to expiring or if you are going to cook or bake it into something that has a lot of flavor. But if you are a texturally challenged eater, you may not be too enthused. As for these spring rolls, I love them, and will without a doubt be making them again.

Experimental Stuffed Peppers

As promised, I was able to transform my Daring Baker fail into quite a respectable dinner. On a nicely solitary Saturday evening, I ate my pepper alongside the must make braised scallions from Molly Stevens via Food52 (read more on that here), and was quite proud of my restraint from ditching that loaf of failed sprouted wheat, millet and pumpkin quick bread, since it became one of the best stuffed pepper fillings I've ever had.

I browned a pound of Italian sausage from local mom-n-pop Cudahy sausage shop Adamcyk's, and when the sausage drained on towels I fried some leek and onion in the residual fat. When everything cooled, I mixed it carefully by hand using about half of the loaf of failed quick bread and aiming for a chunky, happy homogenization. Then, I hollowed out and filled a single red pepper and propped it up for steaming using a thrift store brioche mold. The single pepper fit nicely in my oatmeal pot, and the shear ease and lack of kitchen mess reminded me yet again why it is such a pleasure to cook only for one once in a while...

Meanwhile, I made economical use of the oven heat by making gorgeous braised green onions along with a few perfect specimens of baby Shanghai greens I found at the Asian market last week. I had no tarragon growing yet in the yard, which actually is currently full of rapidly melting snow, so I braised my greens with a stalk of lemongrass. To the horror of some, a couple of dried bay leaves that I recently replenished from the Spice House also made a way into the braise. (As a side note, I read some geeky talk about bay leaves and trees last Fall, and never quite got over the idea that I wanted fresh bay. My new purchase of dried leaves smelled so good when I was perusing my spice cupboard for suitable accompaniments I couldn't help myself from throwing them in the pan. I'm not sure if I added or subtracted from the flavor, but I will say that braised green onions and baby Shanghais are probably one of my new favorite things.)

baby Shanghai greens.

I love steaming stuffed peppers rather than cooking them in a liquid or sauce so that they become all soft and flabby. Not only do they retain their shape, but the filling steams along with them, keeping it moist and not falling apart. About 30 minutes was all it took for it to cook through, and then I topped it with just a bit of shredded pecorino cheese. I had some strained yogurt in the fridge, and it was also a great idea to use some of that as a sour and tangy garnish.

My gustatory delight, shared via email with a friend (or maybe two), was so winning I surprised myself. The pumpkin in the bread really came through, and the traces of cinnamon, clove and nutmeg were heightened by the pork flavor. It would have been too lean without the sausage, and this is coming from someone who probably eats far less than that of my peers here in Wisconsin, where the regional sausage allotment has to be quite high compared to the national average. My stuffed experiments were a perfect balance of sweet and savory, and a great way to spend a Saturday evening alone. In fact, I'd make another loaf of failed sprouted wheat, millet and pumpkin bread in the future just to make these!

Daring Baker February 2012: Failed Sprouted Wheat Quick Bread...

The Daring Bakers’ February 2012 host was – Lis! Lisa stepped in last minute and challenged us to create a quick bread we could call our own. She supplied us with a base recipe and shared some recipes she loves from various websites and encouraged us to build upon them and create new flavor profiles.

Quick breads. I am well acquainted and quite friendly with these easy to mix, quick to bake members of the carbohydrate family, though by looking at this post you may wonder if I've ever baked one in my life. Lately, I have really re-examined my grain consumption, for no other reason than that I felt I was beginning to bake, eat, and repeat too often for my own good. I am curious by nature, and quick breads are easy game for someone like me who can't follow a recipe to save her soul. Usually it turns out well, but in this case, I was set up for a fail of near epic proportion.

Earlier in the month, a friend sent me a link to these pumpkin-millet muffins, and I thought I would (not only procrastinate until the last second as usual, but also) make a beautiful, Daring Baker worthy adaptation using no refined sweetener and only sprouted wheat. Does a sugar-free quick bread made entirely with sprouted wheat flour exist anywhere other than in my mind? I’m not sure. When Googling for answers, I found nothing that looked like what I was after. I did find several sources claiming that sprouted flour can be used 1:1 for regular flour, which after several sprouted flour baking sessions I now question wholeheartedly.

This month was filled with pangs of guilt over my return to sugar; I tried desperately not to bake solely for the sake of baking. I made muffins for others and for my son’s school snacks, but other than sourdoughs (and one batch of peanut butter kiss cookies for my Valentine), I did pretty well. That unfortunately meant that I also left my challenge quick bread until almost the last moment. I wouldn’t say it’s completely inedible, but it does give new meaning to the phrase “bread bowl”.

I am convinced that wheat gluten changes when the grain is sprouted. I don’t find a whole lot of concrete evidence to back up my assumption, but did read this interesting article written by Dr. Vicki Peterson. In it, she says that sprouted grains that contained gluten prior to sprouting still contain gluten after sprouting (this is an article written for gluten intolerant people), but also that grass of sprouted grains are considered gluten-free for the first 10 days of their life. I didn’t grow my sprouted wheat to the point of grass, but it is curious.

Sprouted flour seems to do well in things that are tender by nature, I’ve had great luck making it into crackers and waffles, even cookies benefit from the tender-sweet nature of sprouted wheat. This bread could have failed because I also used brown rice syrup instead of sugar, and a good amount of gluten-free millet. Adding insult to injury, I had even soaked and tried to sprout my millet, which I found out (3 days of waiting in) would not sprout because it was already hulled...

Half of the bread stayed in the pan when I tried to flip it out, and when I took a taste, it was nearer to savory than sweet. It reminded me exactly of a spoon bread, or cornbread stuffing, but lacked sufficient flavor to convince me I'd want to eat it on it's own. It was surprisingly moist, and texturally very interesting. I let it sit on the counter for several hours wondering what to do with it.

Meanwhile, I mixed up my favorite graham cracker recipe using 100% sprouted flour - just wondering if they would fare the same disastrous fate as my quick bread. The dough was very soft (I let it sit for a full day in the fridge before even attempting to roll it out) and delicate, and spread much more than conventional flour grahams do. They needed an extra 5 minutes or so in the oven, had to cool completely on the pans, and then finally crisped up enough to be considered crackers. But like most sprouted wheat things, the flavor was good enough to warrant all of the extra monkeying around. Sweet, earthy grahams of sprouted wheat are worth fiddling with - but keep in mind the dough does not at all act like ones made with conventional white or wheat flours.

After some time had passed, I decided that if I did not live in a household of picky eaters, my failed pumpkin millet bread would definitely be a good candidate for new life. I called a friend, and asked if she'd be game for some experimental stuffed peppers. She agreed, and I popped the whole "loaf" of depressingly soggy bread into the freezer until next week when I have more time to play. I plan to fry up ample amounts of onion and leek and add some sausage, and see if I can't love this accident if it's doctored up and called by another name. Perhaps I'll even like it well enough to tell you more about it - only time will tell.

As for sprouted wheat baking? I am thoroughly bewildered, but I'm not giving up. There must be an answer to my questions, and there is most likely a learning curve that I wasn't expecting. It's funny that one of our easier Daring Baker challenges turned out to be one of my only full-out fails, but it's ok. It's another good challenge of trying to make something out of nothing that lies ahead.

Bread, it calls me...

It's been awhile since I've expanded my bread making abilities. I don't really feel stagnant in making the same bread most of the time, since my bread is reliable and durable, it makes good toast, french toast, and is stellar on the baking day. Leftovers not gone at the end of a week become powdery bread crumbs, to make cakes like I recently told you about, or are included in other things. I have to say that I am proud of my bread, and the year that it took me to get to what I considered to be the best I could produce at home and on my own.

Several weeks ago now, I gave some starter to sL, and he asked me all kinds of questions which I bled out profusely onto a sheet of notebook paper before realizing that I had written a post all about it. In him, I saw everything that I loved about bread and life in general - that twinkle that comes when something profound is realized and undertaken. Talking briefly that day with him about bread made me feel all that more "honeymoonish" about my own bread making journey, and I could tell that my starter fell on a common soul who was not going to easily tire of experimentation.

Giving out starter is a unique feeling. It is not unlike sending my kid to Kindergarten and hoping that he behaves and is well liked, that he is all of the things a parent hopes for as he takes that first step out of the kitchen and into the real world. I gave some to another new acquaintance in January, a girl who was like minded and on her own journey of real food experimentation. She is mathematical in her approach to research, and she's lucky since her husband is equally curious about wild bread. He balances her calculated research with gonzo throw-it-togetherness. I can't wait to see what is new with her - and hopefully we'll meet again soon to discuss.

Tartine dough.

Maybe a week or so ago, sL sent me a Vimeo link to Chad Robertson's Tartine Bread, another bread book that I was aware of, but dismissed before ever having looked at it. I watched it before bed one night, and I swear I dreamed of it, specifically of Chad's hands swiftly forming wet dough, criss-crossing himself rhythmically to zip it up into a well made package. I rewound that part and watched it 3 times. The next day, I put in a library hold on Tartine Bread, which I picked up on Monday - and now I've read about another man's journey to find what he does best in life, what makes him happiest and fulfilled.

Questions plague me, now that I'm heading, faster all the time it seems, towards middle age. I can't run off to France and apprentice in bread. I can't live on 5 hours of sleep a day for as long as I used to, and I have family commitments that prevent my daydreams from popping up into reality. Or do I just not want it bad enough? Am I not motivated enough? The seeds of self-doubt are heavy at times, especially when all the work I've done for the past 6 years shows no monetary gain, no concrete "investment for the future" - save perhaps the instillation of good, slow food on my 5 year old son.

final shaping.

I know I could be quite happy as a baker. Bakers spend a lot of time alone, they work odd hours and are obsessive, exacting and practical - all things that suit me well. The thought of baking everyday is kind of scary though, could I manage buckets of dough nearly alone - how and where would I learn the secrets of ovens - and could/can I build my own this summer in my yard and maybe at least have a neighborhood bartering tool. I am serious about the bread oven. (Check out these pictures one of my flickr contacts built in Madison: an inexpensive to make, mass heat oven, that if I can manage it, I will build in my backyard this year.)

As I tend to dream without acting, my bread oven may or may not be built. As I have increasing worries over my lack of income, I may or may not actually look into getting an odd-hour job preferably baking the way I like to bake. Since I dream big, I dream that the State of Wisconsin would just certify my clean kitchen and let me sell out of my house so I could combine two of my deep joys: baking and home.

When I read about the journeys of others, I know that no two journeys can be the same. My bread will never be like anyone else's, and that is the thumbprint of the Maker that I appreciate the most. Now that I move on into high-hydration bread territory, I know my learning curve is steep - I expect I'll fail quite a few times. This first loaf, made as directed in Tartine Bread was quite good however. It was a huge bread that spread out more than I thought when I thought I'd improvise a iron dutch oven lid over a baking stone. When the bread hit the stone, it grew too fat around to fit the oven over the top, and so I didn't have the steam-crackled crust I was after. The interior was maybe just a little wetter than I liked, but the flavor was really good, especially with a spoon of limey rum cherry preserves over the top... It wasn't a failure, but I'm looking forward to round two.

I cut the loaf in half so I could give some away - hoping for my next installment of wet-dough baking sooner than next week. A passage of Chad Robertson's book already stuck in my head as he described his test bakers as having "gone rogue" after a short amount of time, tweaking his initial instruction until the bread was their own. I'm sure that will happen to me as well, maybe in the fashion that the rest of my life has already taken. Maybe I have been rogue by being responsible and respectful, by doing what I thought I should do instead of taking more risks. But in a way, I don't think I'd ever have discovered my great and profound love of bread had I not stayed home these past years. I have not given up on trying to figure it out, so that qualifies me as someone who follows through on daydreams. I would not have had such a calling when I was younger, I did not want to be anywhere near a kitchen when I was 20.

And really, who knows where I'll end up with this love of bread. Shoveling smaller loaves into and out of my backyard oven? Baking at midnight for a little cafe somewhere? For now, my time is mine and I do what work that seems practical and rewarding to me. That puts fresh bread on my table, and words in my heart.

Cake Made from Crumbs... and Parsnips.

I love to be able to make something from nothing, and when the something turns out to be a cake, I like it even more. Of course, this cake isn't really made from nothing, but it is a clever form of recycling since it uses dried sourdough bread crumbs instead of flour. It has a few other staple ingredients too, but the premise of making flour out of flour is just plain genius.

It's not my idea, but rather it belongs to Susan at Wild Yeast. This cake was originally a carrot cake, and the first time I made it I told nearly everyone I knew about it. It had loads of cardamom, it kept well for a week, it was the most exotic thing to bake something out of nothing. These were the talking points that kept me fascinated with a more healthful version of dessert, a cake that was unusual enough to stand out amongst its more refined relatives.

Over the weekend, I planned a dinner around more of the Volger veggie burgers that I'm still so obsessed with. I had decided that I wanted to showcase this bread crumb cake, but that I already had too many carrots in my dinner plan. Enter the parsnip: earthy, slightly vegetal, kind of sweet, and plays well with spices. I did some minor swapping, pineapple for pears, cardamom for ginger and suddenly a new version of bread crumb confection was done. The best thing is, I'm now dreaming of vegetable cakes in rainbow colors, bread crumb cakes made with earthy beets or sunny sweet potato. Maybe even a celery root cake. That will really get them talking...

I'd imagine you could use any grate-able root vegetable in this cake, and then choose spices to complement. I used an 8 inch springform pan, since you really do need to be sure the cake tin you use is at least 2 inches tall. Next time, I'll use some fresh ginger in this as well, the spiciness seemed to wear off after a day or two using the powdered spice. If keeping the cake longer than 2-3 days, I'd recommend putting it in the refrigerator - it's very moist in the center. I bake this cake by metric weigh measure, a good conversion tool can be found here.

Sourdough Bread Crumb Parsnip Cake (adapted from Wild Yeast)

• 172 g. fine sourdough bread crumbs (about 1 c.) (I grind to nearly a powder in my VitaMix)
• 1 t. baking soda
• 1/2 t. cinnamon
• 1/2 t. nutmeg
• 1 1/2 t. ground ginger
• 1/4 t. cardamom
• pinch of kosher salt
  
• 87 g. butter, room temperature
• 86 g. dark brown sugar
• 86 g. sugar
• 2 eggs
• 98 g. plain yogurt (I use my homemade, which is the thickness of buttermilk, so I'd assume that would also work)
  
• 2 t. vanilla extract
• 144 g. grated parsnip
• 131 g. pureed pear (about 1 whole canned pear, drained)
  
• 100 g. walnuts, toasted and chopped

Preheat oven to 350. Butter an 8 inch cake pan that is at least 2 inches deep.

In a small bowl, sift bread crumbs together with dried spices and salt. In another small bowl, combine yogurt with vanilla.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment (or in large bowl if working by hand), beat butter with sugar for several minutes until lightened. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating one minute after each addition. (Scrape down sides of the bowl as necessary.) Add the dry ingredients alternately with the yogurt/vanilla mixture, beginning and ending with the dry ingredients. (The mixture will look "curdled".)

Spread the batter into the prepared pan, smooth down the top and bake for about 50 minutes until a tester inserted near the center comes out nearly clean, and the cake begins to pull away from the sides of the pan.

Remove from oven to a wire rack and cool 15 minutes before removing from pan.

A little care is needed in dealing with this baked cake, after all it is essentially flourless, and the gluten present is converted. This cake is very good the day it is made, but seems to improve and taste even better in the following days. Moisture soaks into the dried bread crumbs, and the shredded vegetable also seems to tenderize. It really is just a cake you need to try to be able to understand, to taste this something made from nothing is almost like eating stone soup.

However you arrive at them, breadcrumbs are a worthwhile, homemade food as well. I used to have them in more ample supply before I started turning out better loaves of bread, but now I specifically dry out the heels so I can grind them into powder. Their keeping power is almost surreal; I store them in glass jars my dark spice pantry and they last very well for several months.

After this last cake, I found my supply to be running quite low on breadcrumbs, so I sliced the last 1/3 of my current loaf of bread and popped it into my already-running dehydrator to dry. I had never done that before, and the texture of the dried bread surprised me! It seems worth experimenting to make dehydrated croutons, or crostini...

If you happen to be looking for a new cake to experiment with, look no further than this one. It is a miracle of cake, and a delicious alternative for vegetables. It's just sweet enough to not need frosting, but perfectly at home if you desire to make some (I'd have gone with a ginger cream cheese frosting if pressed.) It's also a good candidate for the "everyday cake" category, as well as refined enough for dinner party status. It's sure to win you some kitchen points for creativity and frugality as well!


This post has been Yeastspotted, appropriately, since Yeastspotting is Susan's weekly roundup of yeast-related posts from submissions. Check it out for immediate inspiration!