Quick Saag Paneer with Tofu

It was an hour from dinnertime, and all I had to work with was some frozen spinach, a block of tofu, and a few good spices in the cabinet.  Reaching back into the dim recesses of my culinary career, I came up with a version of a (vegan) dish we used to sell vats of in Minneapolis.

Saag paneer is the popular and delicious North Indian stew of creamed spinach with spices and chunks of fresh homemade cheese. 

Ingredients:

1 onion, diced small

Spices: 1 tsp  each of brown mustard seeds, turmeric, curry powder, cumin seeds, coriander.

1 c heavy cream

salt

20 oz thawed spinach

lemon juice to taste

1# tofu, cut in 3/4" cubes

A pinch of asafetida, 1 T each chili powder, turmeric, salt,  and enough canola oil to make the dry spices into a loose paste.  Toss with the tofu.

Method:
Roast the tofu with the second group of spices at 325 until firm and dry on the outside.  (about 20-30 minutes)

Heat 2T of butter or ghee with the Mustard Seeds.  When the seeds start to pop, add the onion, turn the heat down, and cook until translucent.   Add the remaining spices and stir until fragrant.  Add the Spinach, with any juice it gave up during the thaw.  Cook on med-low until most of the liquid is gone, then add the cream and some salt.  Bring to a simmer,  adjust the salt until it tastes good to you, then add a tsp or so of fresh lemon juice and taste it again.

(For an extra silky texture, put an immersion blender in the pot and blend the spinach until there are no more large pieces identifiable.)

Now add your tofu, stir it in well, and remove the pot from the heat.

You can serve it immediately, but it will be better the next day.

My toddler loves this dish, and I hope you will also.

Namaste!

Roasted Napa Cabbage: Simple Pleasures

If you like Brussels Sprouts roasted caramel brown, then you should consider the other members of the cabbage family. They're cheap, quick to prep, and cook in about the same amount of time.

Recipe:
Set the oven to 400.
Cut a head of Napa into lengthwise wedges, trim out the toughest part of the core.
Toss or brush liberally with olive oil, salt, and pepper.  Lay cut-side down (so the outer leaves will act as a tent, keeping in some steam to soften the leaves as they roast) and cook until tender and caramelized. Mine took about 20 minutes.

Update

Lots of water under the bridge since last May.  Two major projects have been consuming my spare time. The first is making ice cream, on a large scale, for David Bailey's "Range" which is set to open in early October 2011.  The second is developing all-natural ingredient liquers for sale at another local establishment I won't name at this moment.

The first project neccessitated mastering the various techniques involved in making "Philadelphia -Style" ice cream in the range of 50 plus gallons per week.  The second has been a return to chemistry lessons from high school involving measuring concentrations of sugar and alcohol.

My goal is to squeeze in a couple of posts before the new baby arrives in a few weeks.  I am looking forward to hearing from you out there regarding your culinary adventures of the summer.

ST

Taste: Food Anxiety

Giving and receiving hospitality can feel complicated, risky, or downright scary because people don't enjoy the same things.  Have you ever offered bacon to a new friend you didn't know was Jewish? Cooked a beautiful dinner party spread and your pal's new girlfriend turns out to be vegan?  Maybe you've told your family for years you're allergic to wheat and they keep sending you fruitcake every Christmas.  We have all been on one or both sides of these moments of social disconnect, when the response to hospitality is No Thanks.

Often the result of these encounters is "food anxiety."  As a chef, I encounter this emotion all the time, and from both sides of the plate.

Let's suppose you the Diner have specific ideas or limits about what you put in your body, and what lines you won't cross.  You probably have to psyche yourself up to go out to a restaurant, because you'll have to explain it all to a waiter who may or may not understand and a cook that may or may not get it right.  If you are the Cook, and a well-organized highly-allergic customer presents you with a list of the 40 things that they can't eat, (maybe "onions" is on there, holy buckets!) you may find yourself struggling to make a dish of the quality they deserve, from scratch, in the heat of the moment, wishing they had called ahead to give you time to prepare.  Major anxiety.

Food is critical to people.  At the core, hunger is the motivator.  Survival is at stake.  Whether or not "Lychee Gelee with Ham Foam" is actually nourishing to one's body, we respond to even "entertainment food" in a primal and pre-cognitive way.  So when I look down a menu and cross off all the items that contain wheat (to which I'm sensitive) I feel a sense of lack, as if the pantry were going bare one item at a time and there might be nothing left to address my hunger.  Wait, there's a dish with Rice Noodles!  Comfort returns to my gut, and I begin to look forward to the meal.

If we notice the physio-emotional shifts we experience when cooking, dining, shopping, we learn a lot about our Biological Program regarding food.  And maybe, when someone offers us a dish that inspires dread or revulsion ("Ambrosia" at a family reunion) we can see those feelings more clearly as urges from the primal self, which may not be relevant in the current context.  So what if I "can't eat that?"  Maybe missing a meal from time to time is a peaceful and bearable response.  Or maybe my standards can relax in this one case to show some gratitude to Aunt Gertrude for going to the trouble with those mini-marshmallows.

Don't Panic.  It's just dinner.

Late-Night Yoga, an Invitation

Late-night yoga.

It has been a staple of my routine ever since I started working second-shift as a cook, about 2001.  After a certain point, working into the evening after doing a regular day's work at home in the a.m, the body just starts shutting down.  Tasks I would like to accomplish are suddenly off limits, and going to sleep feeling so beat-up means waking up stiff.

Yoga is exercise, but not of the kind that depletes the body's energy. Here's an extreme example.  I get home from a bachelor party (I go to about one per decade it seems) at 4 am. feeling horrible - instead of crashing out, I do 5-10 minutes of yoga.  Easy stuff:  lying-down poses, stretching-and-breathing poses.  The crisis in my body is replaced by relaxed exhaustion.  I can actually fall asleep and stay asleep, and wake up halfway rebounding towards normal.

After a decade as a professional night-owl, I know many people who need yoga but can't go to a class on Saturday morning, or at 6 p.m. most nights.  Are you one of these people?

I am happy to announce a new weekly Yoga Class in St. Louis.

When?  Tuesday nights,  11:30 pm to 12:30 a.m.  Yes, that's right.  Late-night yoga.

Where?  Maplewood.  Stone Spiral Coffeehouse, 2500 Sutton Blvd just up the hill behind Shop-n-Save.

How much?  $12  

Bring? A mat. (I have a couple extras just in case.)

(As always, I offer a Free First Class to anyone new to my classes.  Many of you have enjoyed this benefit in the past, so share the love and bring a new friend with you.)

This space is fun and welcoming, and a hub for community arts and music.  See their website http://www.stonespiralcoffee.com/

The focus of this class will be easing body strain, re-aligning the spine, and clearing the mind for peaceful meditation.  I'll help you learn the techniques you need to maintain a healthy, graceful body.  

Tell your friends who wait tables, work second shift, or otherwise keep our 24-hour economy going that they don't have to get up at 7 am to do yoga.

If you've never practiced end-of-the-day yoga, you will be amazed at your enhanced flexibility and the natural ease with which your body shifts into relaxation. 

Contact me with questions etc.

Namaste!

Stephen

Bread: Deep Nourishment for Troubled Times

I was a kid in the 70s when inflation was crazy and nobody could afford to eat beef.  My parents were struggling to raise my sister and I while putting my father through grad school.  I believe the household balance sheet in 1975 read something like this:

Inner Sunshine

It has been a long month of working long nights, getting colds, getting better only to relapse, and seeing very little of the sun.

Today I worked all the way through Yogananda's energy exercises, about a fifteen minute routine of breathing, muscle isolating movements, and visualization.  I could feel layers of winter crud sloughing off, and a bright warm fire building up in my core.

By the end I found a depth in my breath I had been sorely missing.

Sometimes it's best to make your own sunshine.