My beef with tofu is twofold. It has little flavor, so I have to make a sauce. And there’s the texture: Silken tofu feels slimy, like an oyster, and uncooked super firm tofu tastes like one of my six-month-old’s board books. But pan-frying a large block of super firm tofu takes time, and these days dinner must come together in minutes. The kiddo goes down at 7, I’m hungry and cranky by 7:15, and the prospect of cleaning up oil spatters does little for my evening mood.

The technique in Gourmet’s recipe for Broiled Tofu with Miso creates a toothsome crust on 20 ounces of tofu, no fuss or mess. Thanks to the sweet-and-salty miso glaze, this dish prompted my Texas-bred husband to utter a revolutionary phrase: “This tofu is delicious.” Like seared mushrooms, the tofu tastes clean, but savory. And you don’t even have to clean the pan: It’s foil-lined!

I doubled the miso marinade, and it lasted through three meals (tuna steak plus two tofu dinners), since I brushed the glaze over the tofu, instead of more generously spooning it on. I cut slightly smaller, two-bite pieces, and scrapped the toothpicks. One night I served the tofu squares over soba noodle salad alongside sweet snap peas. Last Monday I fired off a batch to round out Sunday’s leftover Chinese take-in. The salty little squares lessened my guilt over nourishing my husband from grease-soaked containers. 

A few friends recently noted that the serving size for the power bars in my November Runner’s World recipe is huge. I pointed out that when I adapted the recipe, so was I. Pregnant and voracious at the time, I downed three giant slabs in a day from my first batch. But now that squeezing in a run relies on the mercurial mood of a six-month-old, I strive for moderation.

With the latter in mind, I sliced these Sesame Chocolate Granola Bars into teeny squares. The recipe comes via Bec Wassner, who found it in the fantastic Whitewater Cooks cookbook. At 5’2” Bec is the kind of girl who herself looks teeny, until you see her muscles bulging and pulsing as she blasts across the finish line of a triathlon—and wins. The bars are similar, petite but power-packed.

The Whitewater version includes two cups of sugar; one packed cup satisfies my fairly large sweet tooth. And since my bars seemed a bit crunchy when baked in the shallow sheet pan, I subbed a deeper, smaller pan, and added a second, biscotti-like bake that crisps the edges but leaves the centers soft and chewy.

One sweet and earthy little bar powered me through my late afternoon triathlon: feed, bathe, and put the munchkin to bed. Attempts at moderation vanished by 8 pm when I nibbled on a second square, so consider yourself warned.  If your willpower feels frail, wait to make these until you have a houseguest or ten.

Sesame Chocolate Granola Bars

Makes 30 small, rich bars.

Adapted from Whitewater Cooks. If you’re short on time, bake the bars on a 12” x 18” cookie sheet until golden brown, about 20 minutes. Let cool somewhat, cut into bars while still warm, then let cool completely to firm up.

 Ingredients:

 1 cup sunflower seeds, toasted*

1 cup coconut flakes, toasted*

1 cup sesame seeds, toasted*

1 cup butter

1 ½ cups peanut butter (most of a 16 ounce jar)

1 ½ tablespoons vanilla

1 cup brown sugar, packed

1 cup corn syrup

2 cups chocolate chips

6 cups oats

 

Directions:

Preheat oven to 350 F.

Using the paddle attachment on a stand mixer, cream together the butter, peanut butter, vanilla, and brown sugar until smooth and light, the color of coffee ice cream.

Blend in the corn syrup, and transfer to a giant bowl.

Add the rest of the ingredients and combine well, breaking up clumps of the peanut butter mixture until it’s evenly distributed, and the batter looks like granola.

Dump the batter into a 9” X 13” cake pan. Wet your hands and—this is important—pack the batter firmly into the pan, making sure to press all the way to the sides. If the slab is loosely packed, the bars will fall apart.

Bake until the top turns golden brown and has a slight crust, about 35 minutes. Leave the oven on.

Leave the bars in the pan and cool somewhat on a rack.

Cut while still warm: Trace an offset spatula or sharp knife along the edges, and carefully turn the pan over onto a pastry mat or board to release the slab. Using a serrated knife, cut five horizontal rows, then cut each row into six parts. The squares will be crumbly; cleaning the knife after each row will help keep the edges tidier. Re-form any limping bars with your hands or a pastry scraper. Transfer bars to a cookie sheet, standing them on their sides, and bake until golden all over, about 10 minutes. They’ll be too soft to move, so let them cool and firm up on the pan.

Store in an airtight container under padlock and key for five days or freeze.

 *I bought toasted sunflower seeds at Trader Joe’s. To toast the sunflower seeds, coconut flakes, and sesame seeds, heat a large skillet over medium heat for 30 seconds, add the sunflower seeds and cook for 2 minutes, then add the coconut and sesame seeds and continue to cook, stirring, until you smell the coconut and the seeds start to pop, another 2-3 minutes.

 

 

 

Check out my story in Runner’s World’s November issue, Super Fast: Easy, 15-minute meals that will satisfy any pre- or postrun appetite. The Coconut-Almond Bars are addicting, more delicious than a healthy, butter-free snack should be. Note to holiday bakers: These sturdy treats make great gifts. Whip up a batch yourself or order a box from the source of the recipe, The Bakery, in New Paltz, New York. (They call them energy bars.)

We had to cut one recipe for space, the smoked turkey and goat cheese sandwich. Contrary to what I’d always believed, the two nutritionists I interviewed for the piece told me that it’s actually good to eat some salt before a run, since it helps retain fluids. While the latter isn’t ideal if you have to don a cocktail dress, it’s essential to avoiding dehydration.

To give proper credit, Andrew created this salty, smoky, creamy combination from the ingredients at our favorite local cheese shop, Say Cheese. It’s our hiking staple and dinner fare on our laziest nights.

Smoked Turkey and Goat Cheese Sandwich

Ingredients:
1 toasted white hamburger bun; post-run, toasted whole wheat bread
2 tablespoons soft goat cheese (Chevre) or 2 slices jack cheese
Post-run only: 2 teaspoons prepared pesto
2 to 3 slices smoked turkey, chicken, or ham
6 arugula or baby spinach leaves
3 oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes, rinsed, dried, and chopped
1 grind black pepper

Instructions:
Spread goat cheese on top and bottom sides of toasted bun. If eating post-run, spread pesto over goat cheese, also on both sides. On bottom half of bun, layer turkey, arugula, and sun dried tomatoes. Sprinkle with pepper. Serves 1.

April 16th, 2008

My holiday piece, “Not Your Grandma’s Passover leads off the San Francisco Chronicle’s Food Section today. It’s about young Bay Area cooks who create new holiday traditions by adding fresh California twists.

Reporting this piece was especially fun, since the local cooks I interviewed had passion for both introducing new Passover dishes and resuscitating old traditions. I was particularly excited about the gefilte fish recipe that didn’t make the story. It earned raves from my dinner guests, a group that included gefilte fish lovers (they do exist), haters, and neophytes. But even a great recipe couldn’t convince my editor that gefilte fish can be more than an acquired taste. Nevertheless, since a few friends have asked for the recipe, here it is, courtesy of Lindsay and Warren Braunig.

First, the back story. Two years ago at a seder in Los Angeles, the Braunigs tasted what Warren described as “exceptional” gefilte fish. Beautifully browned, the gefilte fish had a lighter texture and more delicate fish flavor than the dense, grey-tinged jarred fish he grew up eating. Also absent was the jellied broth that normally accompanies the dish.

Lindsay later discovered that the cook, Ella Serebryannik, had eliminated the fish bones from her Russian grandmother’s recipe because she didn’t like that infamous slimy jelly they produced. She had also used only light white fish, no oily carp and pike, to produce that mild taste. The browning, initially done to help the balls stay together, adds a depth of flavor, and some nice color. Forgive the un-kosher comparison, but the patties look like crab cakes.

Gefilte Fish
Adapted from Ella Serebryannik. Ask your fishmonger to skin the fish (they might also de-bone it if you give them a day’s notice). Serves 14 to 16.

Make ahead: Gefilte fish will keep for a day, tightly covered, in the refrigerator, or for up to 2 weeks in the freezer. Defrost in the fridge; the microwave is fine too, but be warned that the fish smell will pervade the house.

4 large onions, coarsely chopped

kosher salt

1/4 teaspoon baking soda*

3 pounds mild light white fish like grouper or halibut skinned, boned, and cut into 2-inch chunks

1 large egg, slightly beaten

1/4 cup club soda

black pepper

1/2 cup matzo meal

4 tablespoons vegetable oil

*Many traditions, except the most observant, permit the use of baking soda with matzo products during Passover. If you want this dish to be strictly kosher for Passover, use kosher for Passover baking soda, available at kosher grocery stores such as Tel Aviv Kosher Meats (415-661-7588; on Irving St. at 26^th Avenue), or leave it out.

Instructions:
Preheat oven to 350F. In a large non-stick skillet, combine 3 of the onions (about 5 1/2 cups), 1/4 teaspoon salt, the baking soda, and 1/2 cup water, and cook over medium high heat. Stir the onions every few minutes. After 15 minutes, lower the heat to medium; lower it again if the onions start to smoke or burn. Cook until the onions have reduced to a caramel-colored paste, 30 to 40 minutes. You should have a bit more than 1/2 cup.

Add remaining onion and fish to a food processor, and pulse until it is finely chopped. Stop before it becomes a paste. Transfer the fish to a large bowl. Lightly, with your hands, mix in half the onion paste, the egg, club soda, 1 tablespoon of salt, and 6 or 7 grinds of black pepper. Mix until the ingredients are evenly distributed. Still using your hands and a light touch, add the matzo meal. In a small skillet fry up a teaspoon of the fish to test the seasoning; it should be well seasoned, almost spicy. Add more salt and pepper if it tastes bland.

In a 6-quart straight-sided sauté pan or other wide shallow pan, combine the remaining onion paste, 2 cups water, a 1/4 teaspoon salt, and a grind of black pepper.

With wet hands to prevent sticking, form the fish into oval patties, a 1/2 cup each.

Heat 2 tablespoons of the vegetable oil in a large non-stick skillet until it’s glossy but not smoking (drop in a pinch of matzo meal, it should sizzle). Working in batches, brown the cakes on both sides, about 2 minutes per side, adding another tablespoon of oil if the pan looks dry. As you work, transfer the fishcakes to the pot with the onion paste, fitting as many as possible in a single layer. The water should come halfway up the cakes. Cover the pot tightly with a lid or foil, and bake until cooked through, about 1 hour.

Cool the gefilte fish in the liquid, and refrigerate with the liquid so the cakes don’t dry out. Serve chilled or at room temperature, with lots of horseradish.

 

 

May 2008

A chronicle of my search for a decent bagel here in the Bay Area is up on Chow.com. The depressing results of my quest sent me on a baking binge, so the story is called “How to Make the Ultimate Bagel” and includes a recipe.

The idea for the story started last December. I was feeling a bit homesick for NY at Christmastime. And my wistfulness manifested in a hankering for Shun Lee and bagels (embarrassingly Jewish, I know). Since my San Francisco zip code is beyond Shun Lee’s delivery area, I focused on the bagel lust, tasting my way through the best my adopted city has to offer. Before then, I had quite snobbily and publicly refused to take a bite of a bagel in San Francisco, even years after I’d shed my everything-is-better-in-NYC bias. It didn’t take long to confirm that the bagel situation outside of the New York area is dire. Soft and fluffy, mild and pale, the rolls with holes here in San Francisco are bagels in shape only. Growing up in New Jersey, we always tore into a bagel before we left the store. But every bagel I bought here in the Bay Area needed toasting to attain even a hint of the sweet-sour flavor and chewiness that define a bagel. So I started baking.

The recipe posted with the story does not mention the high-gluten flour that produced the most addictive results. (The Chow test kitchen substituted bread flour, which is easier to find.) I ordered the flour online from King Arthur, and it made a huge difference. It arrived in time for my 13^th batch and, though I was desperate for a bagel break at that point, the results were so good that I ate four bagels in a morning.

Still, don’t panic if you only have all-purpose flour: a fresh, warm bagel is still leaps better than the soulless pucks sold at the grocery store. King Arthur all-purpose flour has a higher protein content than many other all-purpose flours. Lower protein flours, like those from Gold Medal and Pillsbury, will produce a softer bagel.

Please note: I think the amount of salt in the recipe posted on Chow.com is too much. I got the best results using 1 tablespoon, not 2 as Chow’s sodium-loving test kitchen suggests.

 

 

August 2008

Food, travel, and…jet propulsion? Sure, Popular Mechanics is outside my usual beats, but the DIY Rally, which I’ve written twice now, is a favorite project of mine. The magazine’s staff is fantastic to work with, and I relish the opportunity to interview the inventors, who have an entirely different skill set than I do. This year’s group is a fun, diverse bunch. Testing some of the inventions required blind courage. For example, one guy built a sub that he uses to search for treasure in Lake Michigan. Fortunately, we relied on video to assess his success.

 

August 27^th, 2008

Kudos to the art folks who designed the travel piece I wrote for the September issue of Every Day with Rachael Ray “School Trips.” [hotlink to PDF]. The sharp styling complements my roundup of learning vacations. Too bad a space crunch eliminated the Santa Fe School of Cooking from the story. I was hoping to share a few of my favorite Santa Fe eateries. And here they are:

Weekly, I crave the tamales and grilled corn sold from carts on the town square.

Counter Culture Café (930 Baca St., 505-995-1105) sweetens healthy fare (Nicoise salads, fresh spring rolls, grilled chicken sandwiches) with gargantuan treats (cinnamon rolls, sour cream coffee cake, blueberry muffins). The blueberry pancakes are light, fluffy and so huge that they flop over the sides of the plate.

In May, La Boca charmed my husband and me with its neighborhood feel and fragrant tapas. The latter is a notable accomplishment since neither of us adore tapas, and I was still suffering some nasty first-trimester queasiness. I wish I could remember details of our meal, but I spent most of those first three pregnant months in a stupor of fatigue. I can’t wait to return with my now restored palate to savor the full range of La Boca’s Mediterranean flavors.

Santacafé is a local classic with hearty entrees like the double-cut pork chop with herb brioche stuffing. But it’s the appetizers that keep it on my hit list. We always start with the tiger prawn tempura, crispy calamari with four chile dipping sauce, and shiitake and cactus spring rolls.