Hezbollah Tofu

The bride wore pleather.

2008-05-07T06:14:00.001-07:00

I'm getting hitched this weekend. And then I'm going to New York to accidentally-on-purpose lose my BlackBerry and honeymoon for a week. You're probably wondering, "why would I care about your stupid wedding and what does it have to do with veganized French food?" Well, you care because from this point forward I'm going to be chasing tent rental guys and caterers and 100 people I've never met before and thus will probably not have time to talk about Anthony Bourdain and his tiny, tiny penis.

But I'll be back on Friday the 16th, and I fully expect to come home to an inbox full of your recipes and brilliance, so if I'm not in court for an annulment by then, I'll resume posting as usual.

I shall now destroy and rebuild your appetite in 2 photos or less.

2008-05-06T07:27:00.001-07:00

Thanks, To Live and Eat in L.A., for permanently damaging both my corneas and my sex drive. (Although I do love you forever for squaring off with dumbass commenters. You're a more tenacious person than I.)

And just when you thought you'd never be able to eat anything again EVER, Tendron de Soy Curls with Lemon from Vegan Appetite! The original Bourdain recipe calls for short ribs of veal--or any other hunk of viscera he might attempt to fashion into some sort of a prosthetic, as seen above. Those of us who don't need the--ahem--help with such things can use this deceptively simple recipe instead. Soy curls are available via the venerable Food Fight Grocery if your local health food store doesn't carry them (and if they don't, gently remind the manager that it wouldn't kill him/her to stock more vegan alternatives alongside the Happy Ethical Beef Hunks or whatever the fuck they're calling that oxymoronic shit these days). Alternately, you could just use cubed tempeh.

Luckily, this can also be served over noodles, as shown, making it a nice straightforward one-bowl, one-fork meal for those who gouged their eyes out moments ago.

Tendron de Soy Curls with Lemon

Serves 4 generously

2 1/2 cups soy curls
4 cups boiling water (to soak)
1/4 cup tamari
1 tsp onion powder
1 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp poultry seasoning
1/4 cup white wine
1 tsp lemon pepper
1 boullion cube
1 Tbsp Byranna's Chicken Powder
salt and pepper

2- 3 Tbsp olive oil
1 Tbsp earth balance

1 medium onion, finely chopped
2 carrots, finely chopped
14.5 oz can plum tomatoes, drained
1 Tbsp flour
1/2 cup white wine
1 1/2 cups reserved soaking water (or broth)
4 cloves garlic, crushed
bouquet garni
1/2 tsp lemon pepper
2 Tbsp lemon juice
1/4 cup parsley, finely chopped
salt to taste
1 # spaghetti

First thing is to get those curls soaking. Heat your water then add all the ingredients in the upper part of the list. Keep in mind that the curls expand, so use a big bowl. Let them soak for at least a half hour, but longer is better. I wouldn't go overnight, but up to a few hours. Then it's important to squeeze all the liquid out of them that you can. This part of the recipe is the least fun. I usually squish them with my hands and a strainer countless times, then spread them on paper towels and squeeze out even more. No need to be obsessive, but get them as dry as you can. Keep 1 1/2 cups of the liquid.

Heat the oil and earth balance in a large frying pan and cook the curls (in batches if you have to) until they start to brown. Remove from pan and set aside.

If your pan is dry, add another tablespoon of olive oil, then add the onions and carrots. Cook until the onions are translucent. Add the tomatoes, crushing them up as you go. Cook for a few minutes, then add the flour. Be sure to scrape the goodies off the bottom of the pan. Cook another few minutes. This is where this recipe starts to look cool. As the tomatoes break down, the sauce comes together. Add the 1/2 cup of wine and cook until it reduces by half. Add the reserved liquid, the bouquet garni, garlic, lemon pepper and soy curls. Let simmer 20 - 30 minutes so the soy curls pick up more of the flavor. Add the lemon juice and parsley, season to taste with salt and remove the bouquet garni.

Excellence, nostalgia, and the fucking t-shirt debate.

2008-04-30T06:26:00.000-07:00

Yeah, that's right. We're excellent, says Where's the Beef. So excellent that now we have an official Excellent rating. Does Bourdain have an Excellent rating? Noooooo. He has a TV-14 rating and a rockin' good case of Irritable Bowel Syndrome. So suck on THAT.

Consequently, in the tradition of passing these things along, I'm bestowing the mighty E upon What the Hell Does a Vegan Eat Anyway and Where's the Revolution, without whom, respectively, this project would have far less seitan and might possibly never have existed.

And speaking of warm fuzzy good things, the illustrious Kittee mentioned whisperings of Hezbollah Tofu down in New Orleans, which makes me want to skip around and whistle with glee, because NOLA is pretty much my unofficial birthplace. My mom was sneaking me into Lafitte's piano bar to hear Johnny Gordon play when I was 15, hiding me in a back corner so no one could see the candlelight on my braces, and on my 16th birthday Priestess Miriam at the Voodoo Spiritual Temple on Rampart Street told me I was going to marry my high school sweetheart--whom I am marrying a week from Saturday. So, just, don't get me started on New Orleans. I'll go all soft and misty-eyed and then a house will fall on me and/or I'll melt.

Now, about this t-shirt drama. To summarize for those of you who actually do work all day and don't procrastinate with internet vegan soap operas, it started when someone on the PPK created a Hezbollah Tofu t-shirt design based on the actual Hezbollah flag. It replaced the buildings and gun with vegetables and changed the Arabic script to say "Hezbollah Tofu." I thought it was rather brilliant, but the Arabic-esque font meant that it was still a little *too* close to the real Hezbollah flag. Then someone else changed THAT design to be even more vegetable-y and replaced the lettering with a plain font.

And, I stand behind it. I think it manages to toe the line between silly wit and a political statement, and I think it does a great job of removing the power of an "offensive" image and molding it into a new image that says something about the absurdity of Bourdain's comparison, the irony therein, and the ability of vegans to walk along the edge and make fun of ourselves.

Others were not so enamored. CafePress refused to carry it because it was "too offensive," despite the fact that they gladly stock sexist, homophobic, and overtly religious (ahem, Quiverfull) offerings. I take more offense at the suggestion that I should obey my husband and have tons of babies to please Jesus than I do at the artistic reinterpretation of a flag, but that, like all things, is subjective--thus the issue, I suppose.

Then I got a few emails, some very condescending, some less so, one of which likened the t-shirt design to a swastika. That, I think, is ridiculous. There's a fundamental difference between overtly wearing a recognizable symbol of hate and displaying a much-changed rendering of a violent sect's flag. I would venture to say that there is as much similarity between the Hezbollah flag and the HT t-shirt design as there is between the Confederate flag and the US flag, but, again, subjectivity.

(Although if you're that concerned with altered symbols of Middle Eastern dissent, I would start by petitioning the mall stores of America to stop selling bastardized keffiyehs to high school hipster scum.)

What this all boils down to, however, is that this is not the hill I'm willing to die on. I have no intention of spending post after post debating Middle Eastern politics and political correctness when this project was created to consist of good cooking and boundless Bourdain snark. And I'm not going to cheat our chosen charity out of donation funds just because people want to argue over a TIFF file. I won't do it.

So here's the deal: if you want a t-shirt with the Hezbollah flag design, please email me and I will send you the file so that you can have your own shirt made of your own volition (though I would suggest Zazzle since CafePress is clearly run by Pat Robertson). And if you're one of the people who openly and vocally objected to that design, please put your proverbial money where your mouth is and create something we CAN market on a broader basis. I don't mind debate and disagreement, but whining without doing shit just pisses me off, and also, I really want to see what you can come up with.

Typing endless paragraphs without even having a big plate of horseradishy seitan to look forward to kind of blows, so I'm going to wrap this up. We shall return with veganized Bourdain goodness shortly.

Lentils Tartare

2008-04-29T10:46:00.000-07:00

This time last year I had the extreme misfortune of being dragged along to Les Halles in New York during a business trip. I was a vegetarian then and not quite a vegan, so my dinner consisted of poking dejectedly at about an inch of oil floating atop what I assume was meant to be some version of mac & cheese, but the truly putrid part was the steak tartare atrocity going on around me.

Every time Mr. & Mrs. Tourist would order the stuff, a thoroughly depressed-looking waiter with an affected (probably fake) French accent would wheel out this Cart of Culinary Doom, pull various hunks of death from its drawers and cabinets, and construct something that attracted every single one of the approximately 76 flies in the poorly ventilated dining room. I couldn't decide who deserved the most pity--myself, the cows, the ripped-off tourists, or the out-of-work actor who had traded his Broadway dreams for a white apron and a phoney accent. Probably all of the above, and maybe even the flies too.

Which is why I was so giddy when Erin from Vegan Homemade submitted this redemption song of a recipe. It's Lentils Tartare, which means I wasn't lying to you when I said we'd diversify our little seitan-fest, and its flavor comes from a myriad of things that Bobby-aka-Jacques didn't have in his squeaky Death Cart.

And also, hey Anthony? If your "signature dishes" are things that waiters can mix together while Betty from Ohio watches unimpressed, I'm pretty sure the jig is up.

Lentils Tartare

1/2 lb (about 1 1/4 cups) lentils (see note)
2 1/2 cups water
2 Tbs Dijon mustard
2 tsp ketchup
1 tsp miso
1 tsp vegetarian Worcestershire sauce
1/4 tsp tabasco sauce
freshly ground black pepper
1/4 cup canola oil
1 ounce Cognac (see note)
1/2 small onion, finely chopped
2 ounces capers, rinsed
2 ounces cornichons (gherkins), finely chopped
4 sprigs of flat parsley, finely chopped
1 tsp toasted nori flakes, large pieces torn smaller
1/2 tsp kosher salt

1. Place lentils and water in a pot. Bring to a boil, and boil for 2 minutes. Turn down the heat, cover, and simmer for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until lentils are tender and water is absorbed. Let stand for at least 10 minutes, then place in refrigerator to cool. Let cool completely.
2. Meanwhile, place the mustard, ketchup, miso, Worcestershire sauce, tabasco sauce and black pepper in a large bowl and whisk until well mixed. Slowly whisk in the oil, then add the Cognac and mix again. Fold in the onion, capers, cornichons, parsley, nori flakes and salt.
3. Add the lentils to the mustard mixture and mix well using a spoon or your hands, breaking up any clumps. Spoon the mixture onto chilled plates and form into disks using a ring mold. Serve with toasted bread points.

Serves 6.

Notes:
- You can use any type of lentil, depending on your desired results. I used red in an attempt at beef-like color, and they end up being pretty well mashed. Black, green or even brown lentils will hold their shape better and have a firmer bite. If using those, you may need to add more water and increase cooking time.
- Hennessey, Remy Martin, and Martell brand Cognacs are suitable for vegans, probably along with other brands.
- The original recipe calls for an entire onion, so if you like raw oniony goodness, go for it. I think the half onion is a nice ratio.
- This would probably work nicely as a firm dip with thick crackers or veggie crudite. And unlike it’s original steak counterpoint, it will hold well in the fridge for leftovers.

Seitan a la Ficelle

2008-04-22T06:57:00.000-07:00

You know that scene in "Rosemary's Baby," also known as The Greatest Scene in Any Movie Ever Except For the Montage at the End of "She's Having a Baby," where a post-labor, post-tranquilizer Mia Farrow shuffles fearfully into the "witches'" apartment with a big knife, looking for her kid, and all those Brooks Brothers-catalog old people start chanting "Hail Satan"?

It's pure unadulterated genius. It's what gets me through long lunch meetings--imagining that, at any moment, the dull droning banker-type and his wife will burst from their mahogany chairs and start praising the Dark Lord with their manicured fists in the air. No scene has ever been more unintentionally hilarious, even when I'm sober.

So just think of the fact that I'm posting another seitan recipe not as an unhealthy obsession with the glutenous wonder (just bear with me, celiacs, I'mma take care of you, I promise), but as the complex and delicate construction of our own little Rosemary's Baby homage. That, or, as serial contributor tofu666's PPK username suggests, he really is working for the devil. Anyway, now I want a long blue nightgown and a big knife. And some of this here Seitan a la Ficelle.

Seitan a la Ficelle with Horseradish Bechamel

Seitan a la Ficelle (p. 122 of the Les Halles cookbook)

8 oz. seitan, cut into long slices
canola oil

8 baby carrots, peeled
8 baby turnips, peeled
2 leeks, white part only
1/2 onion studded with 4 cloves
bouquet garni
salt and pepper
1 tbs. soy margarine
water
1 cup veg stock

sea salt (fleur de sel)
1/2 cup Cornichons
Dijon mustard

Bechamel Sauce with Horseradish (below)

Preheat the oven to 350F.

Put all of the vegetable in a large pan that will fit in your oven. Add the veg stock and enough water to come up halfway on the leeks. Add the bouquet garni and soy margarine. Add salt and pepper to taste. Over high heat, bring the water to a boil, place the lid on the pot slightly ajar, and cook for about 20 minutes until the liquid has almost evaporated. Take the lid off, and place in the oven while you make the seitan.

As always, you can make your own seitan for this, but in this instance, we used the packaged type and sliced thinly in long strips. It was quickly stir-fried in a wok with canola oil.

On the plate, place the seitan in the center and position the vegetables around it. Pour some of the leftover broth from the pan around the seitan and veggies. Serve with sea salt, cornichons, mustard.

Bechamel Sauce with Horseradish (p. 254 of the Les Halles cookbook)

The bechamel sauce with horseradish is straight ahead, just whisk in as much horseradish as you like into the bechamel along with the salt, white pepper and nutmeg. We used about 2 tbs. for the 2 cups of sauce. For serving, we loaded the sauce into a squeeze bottle and let everyone decorate as they liked.

1 1/2 oz. of soy margarine
1 1/2 oz. of flour
2 cups of soy milk (rice milk, better than milk, etc)
salt and white pepper
pinch of nutmeg
2 tbs. freshly grated Horseradish root

Melt the soy margarine over medium heat. Add the flour and stir with a wooden spoon to combine with the soy margarine. Reduce the heat and cook for a few minutes, but don't allow the flour-soy margarine mixture to take on any color. Slowly add the soy milk to the roux with a whisk and mix until smooth. Season with the salt and white pepper and add the nutmeg and the horseradish. Heat on low until the sauce is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon.

Pot au Feu. Except, you know, not gross.

2008-04-21T06:44:00.000-07:00

It's not often that a Wikipedia article makes me gag. In fact, I don't think that's happened since Wikipedia confirmed that Katie Holmes had been sperminated by Tom Cruise (or some frozen Scientology version thereof), and even then it was less of a gag and more of a wistful cry for Joey Potter to climb back into Dawson's bedroom where she belonged. But Pot au feu, the Pacey Witter of the culinary world, lures you in with its fancy name and its winsome promises of vegetables and then completely ruins your day with the following sentence:

"Cooking cartilaginous meat in the stew will result in gelatin being dissolved into the broth. If the stew is allowed to cool, the broth may turn into a jelly, resulting in an interesting texture. Allowing the stew to cool also allows for the removal of excess grease which forms a layer at the surface."

Gross gross GROSS. All I can think about when I read that is the wiggly goo that collects at the top of a can of cat food. Or Aunt Bethany's cat-food Jello mold in National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. Neither of these things are the product of a good kitchen, Confidential or not. (Oh SNAP!)

So it's a good thing that Carla from The Year of the Vegan replaced said cat food goop with veganized Pot au Feu, which looks like the kind of warm, simple-but-tasty, steaming deliciousness that your mother would have made your begrudging 15-year-old self as consolation when Joey broke Dawson's heart yet AGAIN.

This is a two-parter; the Pot au Feu recipe follows the seitan recipe. Those with wheat allergies could make this with just the tempeh and more mushrooms. Carla also notes:
"I made the seitan in the mid afternoon and after it was made used a cup of the cooking stock to poach my tempeh. I then put half the seitan in the fridge for another day, cut up the rest, (and the tempeh) then kept these bits in the 2 C of the stock I was planning to use for the pot au feu later. During the pot au feu recipe when it calls for the seitan / tempeh and broth to be added I just added them all straight from this pot together."

Pot au Feu

Beefy Seitan
Serves 4

Seitan –

¾ C Mushroom Stock – room temperature
2 T Soy Sauce
1 T Tomato Paste
½ T Blackstrap Molasses
½ T Liquid Smoke
1 t Marmite
2 cloves Garlic – grated
1 C Vital Wheat Gluten
1/3 C Nutritional Yeast
½ t Onion Powder
½ t Garlic Powder
½ t Paprika
¼ t Black Pepper

Broth –
3 C Mushroom Stock – room temperature
¼ C Red Wine
2 T Soy sauce
1 T Tomato Paste
½ T Liquid Smoke
1 t Marmite
1 t Onion Powder
1 t Garlic Powder
½ t dried Thyme
½ t dried Oregano
½ t Black pepper
1 Bayleaf
1 whole Clove

In a small bowl whisk together the stock, soy sauce, tomato paste, molasses, liquid smoke, marmite and garlic.
In a large bowl mix the dry ingredients, then add the wet and mix well with a fork.
Once well mixed knead on a clean dry board for about 5 minutes to develop the gluten.
Divide into 4 pieces, shape into a patty and rest while preparing the broth.
To prepare the broth, mix all ingredients in a large saucepan.
Add the seitan pieces to the cold broth, cover and bring to the boil.
As just boiling turn the heat down very low to a just simmer and cook for 1 hour, turning the seitan every 10 minutes
After an hour turn off the heat and allow the seitan to cool in the broth. Remove bayleaf and clove.
Store in the broth in the fridge until required.

Pot au feu
Serves 4

1 T Olive Oil
2 Portobello Mushrooms – cut into 1/8 wedges
1 C Shiitake Mushrooms – cut in ¼
1 Onion – cut in ¼, end on
4 Cloves
4 Leeks – green ends trimmed, washed and halved lengthwise, end on
½ Celeriac – cut into 1” chunks
2 Carrots – cut into 1” lengths
2 Medium Potatoes – cut in ¼
1 Bouquet Garni
½ Recipe “Beefy Seitan” – cut in 1” chunks (or 2 C Store Bought)
4oz (1/2 packet) Tempeh – steamed then cut in 1” chunks
2 C Seitan Cooking Broth*
3 C Vegetable Stock
3 C Water (add more to just cover as required)
¼ head Cabbage – 4 wedges
Salt and Pepper to taste

In a large soup pot over medium heat, heat the oil then sauté the mushrooms for 5 minutes until they start to give up their liqueur.
Place 1 clove in the smooth side of each ¼ onion.
Add the cloved onions, leeks, celeriac, carrots, potatoes, bouquet garni, seitan, and the tempeh to the pot. Pour in the cooking broth, stock and water to just cover. Add extra water as necessary – you want bits just poking out.
Still over medium heat, cover and bring the pot to a simmer. Uncover and cook for 25 – 30 minutes until the root vegetables are just tender.
Add in the cabbage and cook for a further 10 – 15 minutes until soft. Season to taste.

To serve, remove bouquet garni, cloves from the onions, ends from the onions and leeks, then present pieces on a serving platter with broth in a jug and allow people to help themselves, or divide everything evenly up between 4 deep plates. Have plenty of crusty bread on hand for dipping in the broth.

*if not making your own seitan sub 1 ¾ C Mushroom Stock, 2 T Soy Sauce, 1 t Liquid Smoke and 1 t Marmite for the cooking broth – though making your own and using the broth will be tastier.

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In other news, we now have a Flickr pool!

Name 5 things cooler than a Hezbollah Tofu t-shirt.

2008-04-16T06:57:00.000-07:00

See, you couldn't, could you? That's because nothing cooler EXISTS. And, right now, neither do the actual t-shirts.

Here's the thing--we can't be talking such a big game and then go around wearing lame-ass t-shirts that just say something like "tofu ruullessss bacon is grooossssss" with the website address. And all the cutesy "give peas a chance" shit has already been appropriated by PETA, which, you know, we're not even going to go there. So we need something with awesome yet not in-your-face graphics and achingly witty text.

Surely you cannot expect me to do this all by myself, particularly given that my Photoshop skills begin and end with airbrushing the odd PMS zit out of a vacation photo. So I need for the brave among you to offer up your mad skills and whip up something fantastic to plaster across various merchandise.

The ultimate goal of this, of course, is to raise funds for the actual printing of the 'zine that Hezbollah Tofu will become, since the perky Baptist lady who runs the print shop on my corner probably is not going to see veganism as a pro-bono cause. Email your awesomeness to hezbollahtofu@gmail.com or just post it in the thread currently up and running on the ppk.

Also, did you hear? This was the spank heard 'round the world. Or at least the vegan culinary world. Today: winning Endless Simmer; tomorrow: making Bourdain serve as Isa Moskowitz's sous chef.

Tempeh Basquaise (hi, celiacs!)

2008-04-14T07:18:00.000-07:00

So, ok, maybe we've been a little gluten-crazy around here lately. Something about the slow kneading of seitan sort of lulls you into forgetting that not everyone's bowels are down with the wheat. And unlike SOME people who share Carrie Bradshaw's affinity for Marlboro Lights and have faces that look approximately like Joan Rivers' perineum, we don't like excluding or mocking people based on their dietary needs--unless they can't stop blathering endlessly about how their "needs" include veal stock or diseased duck liver or formaldehyde or whatever.

And our friendly neighborhood celiac vegans most certainly were not blathering. In fact, they were waiting patiently for us to finish our recent round of seitan worship and get around to making something with tofu or gluten-free tempeh. So now we can all hold hands, sing kumbaya, and whip up this Tempeh Basquaise that Tami submitted. I'm not sure what kind of critter Bourdain had his producers, publicists, interns and glam squad wrangle and torture for the original, but this is way better anyway.

Tempeh Basquaise
Serves 3 - 4

1 8 oz package tempeh (steamed)
1/4 cup tamari
1 cup broth
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 Tbsp olive oil
2 Tbsp lemon juice
2 Tbsp maple syrup
1/4 tsp cayenne
1/2 smoked paprika
salt and pepper

2 Tbsp olive oil
1 onion, cut in thin 1/2 moons
1 red pepper, sliced in thin strips
1 orange pepper, sliced in thin strips
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 14.5 oz can plum tomatoes
1/4 cup white wine
1/4 cup reserved marinade
1 Tbsp capers
1 tsp herbes de provence
1/4 tsp cayenne
salt and pepper
2 - 3 Tbsp fresh parsley, chopped (for garnish)

After you've steamed your tempeh, cut it into thirds. Cut those thirds vertically, so the tempeh is split, then cut in triangles. You'll end up with 12. Or cut it however you want.

Make a marinade out of the first set of ingredients and marinate tempeh for an hour or overnight. Then cover with foil and bake at 375 degrees for 1/2 an hour. Keep the marinade.

Heat 2 Tbsp olive oil to medium high heat in a frying pan. Pan fry the baked tempeh, then set tempeh aside. Add sliced onions to the frying pan. Saute about 5 minutes, then add the sliced peppers. Saute another 5 minutes. Add the crushed garlic and saute another 2 minutes. Add the tomatoes, crushing them with your hand as you go. Add the liquid from the can, too. Let simmer about 10 minutes. Add the reserved marinade, wine, capers, herbes de provence and cayenne pepper. Check for seasoning, then add the tempeh back to the pan. Spoon some of the sauce over the tempeh and let simmer 10 - 15 minutes, or until the sauce is desired thickness.

Seitan au Poivre. And also, we win.

2008-04-11T09:24:00.001-07:00

Now that I'm back in the US, where toilets have handles, protein can be obtained without the interference of blood-coagulating dairy, and conversations can be had for fewer than 8,000 complicated syllables, I've noticed that the vegan Hezbollah seems to be worshiping the mighty Seitan. And for good reason. Seitan is the ultimate blank canvas of flavor and texture; you can make airy steamed seitan, chewy boiled seitan, dense baked seitan, or any combination thereof, and it can be infused with flavor in a way that putrid slabs of raw muscle simply can't. In fact, the whole situation sort of epitomizes what's good and right about vegan cooking, and it's about time someone noticed.

Which is why I was jolted giddily out of my jet-lagged Ambien haze, post trans-Atlantic flight, when Urban Vegan showed me the Endless Simmer "Who Cooked it Better" post in which Bourdain's French onion soup and my veganized French onion soup for HT were pitted head to head. And, despite the fact that Endless Simmer is not a vegan-centric site, Hezbollah Tofu is winning. Bourdain can therefore suck it. Vote now and secure his shame.

Now, on to more Seitanic rituals! Vegan Appetite devised this cunning adaptation of Bourdain's Something-Dead-au-Poivre, which results in flavorful, seared seitan cutlets with a ridiculously rich, dense sauce. It's the kind of thing your carnivorous vegan-slamming father would mock and ridicule, begrudgingly take leftovers home, and then secretly devour in a delicious late-night cloak of hypocrisy. Not that I'd know anything about that.

Seitan au Poivre

4 seitan cutlets, 4-6 ounces each (preferably use Veganomicon recipe, as it kicks the most ass.)
1/4 cup peppercorns, crushed
2 tsp olive oil
1 Tbsp olive oil (for the pan)
1 Tbsp earth balance (for the pan)

1/4 cup brandy
3/4 cup broth
2 tsp tomato paste
2 tsp dark miso
2 tsp balsamic vinegar
1 Tbsp earth balance
salt and pepper to taste

Prepare the cutlets. Rub about 1/4 teaspoon olive oil on each cutlet side and and rub in about 1/2 tablespoon of the pepper. Set aside. Heat the olive oil and earth balance over medium high heat. When really hot, sear the seitan cutlets on both sides. Keep warm and make the sauce. Take the frying pan off the heat.

Using the same frying pan, deglaze the pan with the brandy. Put it back on the burner and reduce by 1/2. Add the broth and reduce by 1/2 again. Take it off the burner, and add the tomato paste, miso and vinegar. Stir in the last of the earth balance. Check the seasonings and serve over cutlets.

This sauce is super dense and concentrated. It will look like you didn't make enough, but once you taste it, you'll know. Just a little bit of this goes a long way to really enhance the cutlets.
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This is actually a pretty simple recipe, and if you really want to be all Vegan Susy Homemaker you can make some seitan cutlets over the weekend and leave them chilling in some broth to quickly whip up a fancy-but-easy dinner during the week. In fact, if someone had told that to CERTAIN chefs in a CERTAIN always-neutral-pussy-pants country in a CERTAIN city that starts with a Z and ends in urich, I wouldn't have come home so freaking hungry. (Just kidding, Switzerland. But seriously, look into some legumes or something. I pretty much live at Bitch Capacity, so making me grumpy and hungry just disturbs the space-time continuum.)

Roulade of Wild Seitan

2008-04-04T12:47:00.000-07:00

Rogue contributor Tofu strikes again! (Ok, Tofu isn't necessarily a rogue, but it does have a nice ring to it). This time it's a veganization of Blocked Lower Intestine Bourdain's Roulade of Wild Pheasant. The ability to whip out yet another ridiculously amazing seitan recipe has hereby earned Tofu the Chief of Seitan position, which doesn't really come with any diplomatic privileges or anything, but I could totally make my little brother make you a special Chief of Seitan blog banner or something. He's good with computers because he's really adopted. Ssshhh.

Before I show you this recipe and you consequently fall into conniption fits of wonder and glee, here's a quick service announcement: making fun of Anthony Bourdain don't pay my bills, so I've gotta fly to Zurich tomorrow for work and won't be back until my raggedy jet-lagged ass flies in next Thursday night. I'm not sure how much internet access I'm going to have, since I'll be drinking absinthe and expensing it all week, so don't despair if you email me something and don't see any signs of life for a few days.

Anyway! Let the yumminess commence, Oh Chief of Seitan:

Roulade of Wild Seitan
(see website for step-by-step photos)

Marinade

Seitan (recipe/method)
1 cup of port
2 leeks thinly sliced

Mushroom Mousse

4oz. of button mushrooms, trimmed
1 tbs. olive oil
salt and pepper

1 tbs. tamari
1/4 cup soy cream (or soft tofu)
1 tbs. port

Braised Tempeh

1 block of tempeh, cut into 4 long strips (see picture below)
water
1 tbs. tamari
canola oil

Sauce

2 shallots, thinly sliced
2 leeks, thinly sliced
1 tbs. flour
1/4 cup of port
1 1/2 cups vegetable stock
1 bouquet garni (parsley, thyme, bay leaf)

1 tbs. soy margarine

Marinate the seitan overnight in the port and leeks (we used a California port style Zin made by Coturri that's unfiltered and unfined and fills the flavor profile / alcohol level as well as intense color of port very easily. Or just use port).

Remove the seitan from the marinade (save the marinade!), and pat the seitan dry and season with salt and pepper. In a wok, lightly pan-fry until golden brown. Careful -- because of the residual sugars in the port, it can possibly make the seitan scorch easily, so keep a close eye on it. Just sayin' ;)

For the mushroom mousse -- in the original it's a veal mousse -- saute the button mushrooms in the olive oil and margarine, season with salt/pepper and cook until nice and juicy. Splash the tamari in at the end of cooking and let cook another 30 seconds. Reserve about 12 pieces of mushroom for garnish. Place the rest of the mushrooms in the Vita-Mix (or blender), and puree the hell out of them, slowly adding the cream (or soft tofu) and the port. Taste for seasoning and adjust if needed. The consistency should be like light peanut butter.

Slather the mousse on the seitan with a offset spatula, covering the whole surface.

Next up, subbing the foie gras -- we went with a braised tempeh. You'll only need one strip from the tempeh, so you can either cook them all and eat the rest as a snack, or just take off one piece and save the rest.

Place in a saute pan and fill halfway up the side of the tempeh with water and add 1 tbs. of tamari. Bring to a boil, cover partially with a lid and cook, turning occasionally until the water evaporates.

Remove the tempeh strips carefully from the pan and saute in the wok with canola oil until golden brown on all sides. Splash a little extra tamari in at the end if your feeling it...

Add the tempeh on top of the seitan and mushroom mix.

Carefully roll the seitan around the tempeh (like a sushi roll) and secure with twine.

Place on a sheet pan and cook for 20-25 minutes at 375F. Remove from oven and let rest for five minutes. Gently remove the loops and cut into 3/4" slices.

For the sauce -- in a medium saucepan, heat the olive oil over med-high heat, add the soy margarine. Add the shallots and leeks and cook until they are caramelized and brown. Stir in the flour and cook for 2 minutes. Stir in 1/4 cup of port plus the reserved marinade. Reduce by half over high heat. Then add the veg stock and the bouquet garni. Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer and cook for 1 hour. Remove from heat and strain into a small saucepan. Add the reserved mushrooms slices (or truffles as in the original) and cook for two minutes. Whisk in 1 tbs. of soy margarine (monte au beurre).

For plating, add three pieces of the roulade to the plate and drizzle the sauce around the slices. Add the mushroom garnish and serve.

Braised Seitan Medallions in a Wine Demi-Glace

2008-04-02T08:22:00.000-07:00

There are things you whip up in a flash with 2 pans and 5 ingredients when your friends visit and you want something simple and tasty, and then there are things you cook over the better part of an afternoon with every utensil and ingredient in your kitchen when, for example, your boss comes over or your mother-in-law drops in or some stinky asshat says he couldn't live without veal stock.

This recipe is fully, amazingly, undoubtedly the latter.

Veal is something that some omnivores won't even eat, what with all the needless torture and whatnot, so when someone says they need it to fully enjoy life, I call bullshit. Plus, what a ginormous lazy cop-out. Of course if you sling a hunk of baby cow up onto a plate it's going to be tender. Babies are tender. This is why distant relatives probably squeezed and nibbled you until you were agile enough to run away. But what's delicious and tender and requires some effort to be imbued with flavor and isn't a baby? Well, John Cusack, I would imagine. But also: seitan.

And thus Lindy Loo from Yeah, That "Vegan" Shit brings us Braised Seitan Medallions in a Wine Demi-Glace, a veganization of Bourdain's Death in Goo, or, as he insists upon calling it, Braised Veal Medallions. She uses strong coffee for extra earthy, rich flavor, which is genius.

It's kind of a long recipe, but don't pussy out. If you can make some simple seitan and simmer some stuff, you'll be fine.

Oh, also! I am not a dude. I was Google-stalking HT the other day and saw people on like 3 different forums referring to me as a "he." Keep this up and I will totally show you my vagina.

Back to the recipe, if you've managed to retain your appetite:

Braised Seitan Medallions in a Wine Demi-Glace

Seitan:

2 c. vital wheat gluten

1/4 c. + 2 T. nutritional yeast

1 c. cold vegetable broth

1/2 c. cold brewed coffee (brewed strong)

2 T. olive oil

4 cloves garlic, minced finely

16 c. cold water plus 6 bouillon cubes

1/4 c. soy sauce

Demi-glace:

1/4 c. onions, diced

2 T. carrots, cut into chunks

2 T. celery, diced

2 T. vegan margarine

2 T. flour

1 c. veggie stock

1 c. strong coffee

2 T. tomato paste

bay leaf

pinch of thyme

pinch of parsley

Stew:

1 c. of your vegan demi-glace

2 lbs. of seitan

1/2 t. salt

pinch of black pepper

1/2 c. all-purpose flour

3/4 T. olive oil (this may vary--you'll be using whatever amount it takes to cook up your seitan once it's floured)

1.5 T. vegan margarine

1 c. onions, cut into 1/4-inch dice

1/2 c. carrots, cut into 1/4-inch dice

1/2 c. celery, cut into 1/4-inch dice

1-2 garlic cloves, finely chopped

3/4 c. dry red wine

1 (14-oz) can whole tomatoes in juice, drained and coarsely chopped

1 bay leaf

Gremolata:

1 t. chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

1/2 t. finely grated fresh orange zest

1/4-1/2 t. finely chopped fresh rosemary

1/4-1/2 t. finely chopped fresh thyme

DIRECTIONS

For the seitan:
In a large mixing bowl, mix together your nutritional yeast and vital wheat gluten.

In a separate bowl, mix together all other ingredients except the water and soy sauce.

Pour the wet into the dry and mix until all the wet and dry ingredients have combined. Knead for 3 minutes or so, until the dough is elastic. Divide into 6 separate chunks.

Fill a large pot with water, bouillon cubes, and soy sauce. Add the wheat gluten chunks. Cover and bring to a boil, but watch carefully--try to lower it as low as it will go as soon as it boils, so that it's at a low simmer.

Partially cover pot, and simmer for an hour, moving the seitan around occasionally. Turn off the head, remove the lid, and let sit for 15 minutes.

Remove from broth and place in strainer until cool.

For the demi-glace:
In a sauce pan, cook the onions, carrots, and celery in the vegan margarine until browned. Add the flour to make a roux. Stir in only 1/2 c. of veggie stock, 1/2 c. coffee, and tomato paste. Continue to stir until it boils. Reduce heat and simmer for about 20 minutes, stirring frequently. This is your espagnole.

After 20 minutes, your espagnole should've thickened up some. Add in the rest of your veggie stock as well as your coffee. Simmer for about 10 more minutes, stirring frequently, and then set aside.

For the stew:
Put oven rack in middle position and preheat to 350°F.

Take your 1/2 c. of flour and put it in a large container with a lid. Toss your seitan in with it, in two batches, shaking until they are coated with flour. Shake off any excess. Set seitan aside.

Heat your oil in a pot over moderately high heat until just smoking, then brown your seitan on all sides. You will probably need to do this in two batches, adding a bit more oil between the two. (If some of your pieces of seitan still have white patches of flour that haven't been browned, don't worry. All will be well once you toss it in the oven.) Transfer your seitan to a plate and set aside.

Add vegan margarine to your pot and heat until foam subsides, then sauté onions, carrots, celery, and garlic, stirring occasionally, until onions are softened, about 9 minutes.

Add wine, scraping up any brown bits, then add only 1 c. of your warm demi-glace, tomatoes, and bay leaf.

Transfer your wine sauce to a 9 x 13 rimmed pan. Place your seitan in the pan as well, stirring gently until all your seitan is coated. Cover pan tightly with foil.

Cook for about 40-50 minutes, (or until sauce is clearly heated through and seitan is tender) stirring once or twice.

For the gremolata:
Stir together parsley, zest, rosemary, and thyme. Set aside.

All together now:
You can serve this over a plethora of things. The original recipe calls for it to be served over a wild mushroom risotto. I served mine over a bed of arborio rice, topped with tender, broiled asparagus. Sprinkle with the gremolata before serving.

Lindy Loo notes that next time she would make the following changes:

Use tomato sauce or reserved juice from the can of whole-tomatoes instead of the tomato paste.

Try it with the seitan cutlets instead of the simple seitan.

Perhaps incorporate some wine into the demi-glace itself.

Thin out the sauce a bit more.

Les Halles Chocolate Mousse, plus Douche of the Week!

2008-04-01T06:33:00.000-07:00

Before we start talking about and salivating over that amazing creation up there that Elliot has devised and submitted, I'd like to introduce an exciting new category of Hezbollah Tofu: Douche of the Week!

Here's the thing--I started out deleting and/or dealing with the small but irritating number of douchey comments and emails by myself, but hey, this is a collective effort, right? So from now on the people who blight my lovely inbox full of yummy recipes and sweet thoughts from adorable people with lame-ass messages will have their names, comments, and email addresses posted. Fun!

Thus, this week's Douche of the Week is Tim, aka blink.vt@gmail.com. Congratulations, Tim! Tim says:

"I love your website. It gives me and my friends something to laugh about as we eat our big plates of cow flesh and organ meat.

'salad is what food eats'

cheers.

tjd"

Cheers indeed, my good Tim! Tell me sir, whither art thou mother, and is she wont to bring thou more pizza rolls to thy basement abode?

Another quick order of business, regarding this post on The Jew and the Carrot and the general whisperings of offensiveness that have been surrounding the Hezbollah Tofu name. Dudes: we know it's offensive. That is the point. It's meant to call attention and mockery to the absolute ridiculousness of Anthony Bourdain earnestly comparing vegans to the freakin Hezbollah. A few people have expressed hope that the resulting cookbook will not be called Hezbollah Tofu just for the sake of not giving anyone the wrong impression, and that is totally cool with me. When the time comes we'll all vote on a name that kicks just embarrassing amounts of ass.

And now the fun part! Submitter Elliot was awesome enough to veganize the Les Halles chocolate mousse recipe this week, and the results make me want to feign a sudden case of the flu, go home and make this immediately, and spend the rest of the day getting chocolate all over my pajamas. Please note that this recipe calls for a box of Soyatoo, not a can (which reminds me, where is that commenter Matt guy who went on that hackneyed Bourdain-esque tirade about the silken tofu in the creme brulee? He should totally see this one and wow us once more with his high-school-freshman command of lofty prose). Said box is available here if you can't find it at your friendly neighborhood health food store.

Chocolate Mousse
(or: The Profligate Superfluous Colloquial Downfall of Matt;
Alternate title: Big Words Don't Mean You Suck Less.)

Ingredients:
5-6 oz chocolate
2 tbs. sugar
1 box Soyatoo Soy Whip
1 1/2 tbs. Ener G egg replacer
4 tbs vegan soy/vegetable shortening
A few Mint sprigs (optional garnish)

The tools you'll need:
3 mixing bowls
1 small pot
Electric mixer
Rubber spatula

1) Bring a small amount of water to boil in a small pot, place mixing bowl over the water. Chop chocolate up and put in the bowl adding the vegan shortening, add sugar and stir contents together as they melt. Once they have melted, set the bowl on counter to let the contents cool down.

2) Empty Soy Whip from box into a second mixing bowl and mix with the electric mixer for 10 minutes, or until the Soy Whip is light and fluffy (one needn’t worry about over mixing).

3) In the third mixing bowl combine egg replacer with 1/2 cup of warm water using the electric mixer until the contents are fluffy.

4) Using a rubber spatula, add egg replacer to chocolate and fold contents together.

5) Add 2/3 of Soy Whip to chocolate and fold together.

6) Use the remaining 1/3 of the Soy Whip as a whipped topping on the mousse, and garnish with a mint sprig.

Makes 2 generous mousses, or 3 or 4 smaller portions. It's pretty rich, so you might have left-overs, but not for long.
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Why a good cooking wine is tastier than Haterade.

2008-03-28T06:59:00.000-07:00

(That cute little bugger up there is Hezzie, our new tofu-plushie mascot, made by a student named Julia who was inspired to have a vegan bake sale and also, consequently, rules.)

I'd like to take a brief break from our regularly scheduled Le Deliciousness to have a little chat about the ginormous MetaFilter post that showed up about Hezbollah Tofu a few days ago. But first I should point out that said chat is a twisty-panty-free zone. As in, those of us who do actually wear underwear are not getting our knickers in a bunch, because this project is not a he-said, she-said, anonymous-internet-asshole-said war of the words; if you want one of those, just start a PPK topic with the subject line "IS HONEY VEGAN?" (But please, for the love of Seitan, do not actually do this.)

This is, from its conception, a charity project. Nobody will make money here except for the vegan-oriented nonprofit of our choosing. So I don't feel the need to strap on my Xena armor, give my sidekick Gabrielle a bi-curious smooch and march off to defend my cause; the cause is explicit, and you're in or your out. (And you have to make it work! [The melding of Xena and Project Runway is clearly symptomatic of my recent sleep deprivation.])

Anyway, if I were in a bitchier mood, or had consumed more caffeine, I might go through point-by-point to refute the posters who felt that the contributing chefs and cooks here were just scraping by with the "gimmick" of veganism, those who said that the resulting recipes would be tragically bland, or those who merely took the opportunity, in boorish Bourdain fashion, to trot out all the limp, haggard anti-vegan remarks that most of us could probably recite backwards, half-asleep, while stirring a pot of soup.

But instead all I'll say is this--bring it. Seriously. Any bored 14-year-old in his parents' basement can criticize recipes on the internet that they haven't so much as tasted, let alone attempted. So in the spirit of keeping the content of Hezbollah Tofu as varied and rich as possible, I will invite the haters to exchange the haterade for a nice dry sherry and see what they can do with adapted French recipes. Test the recipes posted here. Adapt your own recipes and send them in. Leave the meat and cheese in if you want; that just makes it more fun.

Or, you know, just hang out and talk shit. Although I wouldn't necessarily count on that as a life plan or a career; that really only worked for one person in this scenario, and we're pretty much kicking his pockmarked ass.

Tournedos d'Seitan with Poached Figs

2008-03-18T07:02:00.000-07:00

Last week, all of the brakes on my big-ass truck gave out all at once (there's going to be a point to this, I promise), and since I need the fucker to stop when I ask it to, and can't be without it for longer than a few hours because I depend on it for taking care of the rescued ponies (that's a whole 'nother blog right there, though), I took it in to my friendly neighborhood redneck mechanic. While I was sitting in the office there, staring at the Billy Bass on the wall and mentally calculating how broke I was going to be after Big Bessie got 4 new rotors, Bubba came breezing through with what was ostensibly going to be lunch--a big hunk of bloody pork tied up with butcher's twine, ready for the grill.

And while I revile all things that resemble Anthony Bourdain's lower intestinal tract, especially raw, almost-rotten pork, the whole butcher's-twine business has always kind of intrigued me. I mean, it's kind of adorable, if it's not wrapped around something dead. And it sets you up for one of those Billy Badass moments where you snip open perfectly-tied twine to reveal some sort of fancy culinary delight, thrilling your guests or your cats or whatever.

Which is why I made little sorority-girl squealy sounds when tofu666's recipe and beyootiful photos for Tournedos d'Seitan with Poached Figs showed up in my inbox. This is not only a gorgeous, impressive dish, but it also falls neatly into the "really not that complicated" category; if you have a pressure cooker and can manage a fairly simple reduction, then you can piss your mother-in-law off by outdoing her with this at your next family gathering. Although, I'd also be interested to develop ways to make this without a pressure cooker, since not everyone has one (note to self: update wedding registry).

Tournedos d'Seitan with Poached Figs

This is our contribution to the Hezbollah Tofu project: a vegan version of Tony Bourdain's "Tournedos d'Agneau with Fig Confit" p. 155 (picture on p. 157) from the "Les Halles" cookbook.

First, we made the seitan -- a combo of Ron Pickarski (pressure cooking method, ginger/kombu flavored broth), Isa (flavorings), and a couple of our ideas (ratio of gluten/water, jelly roll style). We rolled it into two 6" x 9" sheets, then rolled it up the long way (jelly-roll style), and pressure cooked it for 45 minutes. We also made "medallion" sized pieces as well.

We made veg stock earlier in the day and used some of it to make a little "semi" demi-glace -- brown roux + mirepoix + stock + reducing = sauce espagnole. Take that plus a little maderia (or red wine) and reduce it again.

The seitan after the pressure cooker was cut to size, wrapped with twine to keep the roll secure -- all though it really didn't need it, it was more for show...

The seitan was seared on all sides, then baked in the oven (375F for 15 minutes) finally rolled around in the sauce and plated with the poached figs (in the same banyuls that is also used for the sauce -- a sweet fortified red wine, or you could use port). Served along with braised carrots and tarragon as is the picture in the book.
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tofu666's blog has more photos of the process, including that cute little twined-up seitan.

Creme Brulee/Creme Caramel: Because We're That Badass.

2008-03-17T06:46:00.000-07:00

For someone whose dodgy culinary skills fall, without fail, back upon the globulous bosom of dairy products, one might venture to say that successfully veganizing a dairy-heavy dish would be the ultimate slap in the nicotine-stained face. Bonus ass-kicking points for veganizing a dish that also contains more eggs than an entire colony of ill-treated hens could produce in a decade.

Which brings us to creme brulee and its sticky-sweet cousin, creme caramel (pictured above), the sugary little cholesterol bombs of French cuisine and, as far as I can see, the last wobbly arguments for the use of eggs and dairy in said cuisine. And since tearing down wobbly arguments is what this splinter faction is all about, I was struck speechless with admiration when Chipmunk of the PPK ventured bravely into the land of creme brulee, torch in hand, ready to bring us the first recipe in Hezobllah Tofu that does indeed contain tofu.

This is also a work in progress, a little toddler of a recipe, if you will, so your comments and kitchens are greatly needed. I'd say Bourdain can kiss our asses an extra time for this one, but I just noticed that the original recipe calls for ten egg yolks and a quart of heavy cream, so I imagine Tony is in the throes of a triple-bypass by now.

Creme Brulee: A Work in Progress

Chipmunk says:

Cube half a block of silken tofu (I used the vacuum packed kind) and cover in boiling water
Blend with 100g sugar (roughly 3 oz - I goofed while converting the measurements, this is twice the amount in the recipe), 1 teaspoon soft dark sugar and half a cup oil (I'd go lower on both next time).

For version 1, I heated a few tablespoons of soy milk with a pinch of turmeric (for colour), a pinch of salt and half a teaspoon vanilla bean paste, mixed in the tofu mixture and a generous tablespoon of arrowroot and heated it through. I then baked it at 300 degrees with the moulds immersed in water until it looked done. Sprinkled on some white and brown sugar and caramelised the tops under the broiler (with limited success). This one came out eggy but a little crumbly, and so...

Version 2: Made the tofu mixture as stated above, but using slightly less sugar. Heated maybe a tablespoon of agar (I'd probably go higher next time) with a little water until the agar melted. Added the pinch of turmeric and salt, stirred in the tofu mixture with half a teaspoon vanilla, heated through (being careful not to let too much moisture evaporate, otherwise the emulsion will split!), poured into the moulds and left to set. Then I melted some sugar in a pan and let it caramelise and let the crème slide onto a plate. When it was dark enough, I added a little water - just enough to make it pourable but still syrupy - and spooned it over the top (Normally, you would pour the syrup into the mould before the custard goes in). This one wasn't quite firm enough either.

So to sum up possible adjustments, my lack of equipment notwithstanding: Less sugar, less fat (possibly something a little more solid too, since that quart of cream is bound to have some saturated fat going on), more agar and possibly some arrowroot. I intentionally didn't use any extra flavourings and aimed for a fairly "plain" custard, which didn't taste like tofu, luckily. I wonder what a little black salt would do. There's probably multiple ways of doing this.

Clafoutis!

2008-03-10T07:39:00.001-07:00

The honor of first person to submit something for Hezbollah Tofu (other than me) goes to Gwenlet of the PPK, who went where no vegan has (probably) gone before and veganized Les Halles clafoutis. This is a classic French dessert, but the batter's resemblance to pancake batter and the fact that fruit is involved means that you could probably get away with eating it for brunch. Which would probably kind of piss a French food purist off. And that makes it even better.

Gwenlet notes that, in order to maintain the pretty color of the batter without infiltrating it with cherry juice, you should pour the cherries into the pie plate first and then pour the custard on top of that. I'm totally making this thing as soon as I can steal a pie plate from my mother (how do I not own a pie plate? Seriously?), so I'll add comments too when I'm done eating it like it owes me money.

Cafoutis that Kicks Bourdain's Ass

1 lb. black cherries, pitted (Gwenlet used frozen, rinsed under warm water for a while)
3 oz. kirsh (or any sweet, fruity liquer—Gwenlet used cassis)
1 Tbsp. Earth Balance
1/3 C demerara sugar
¼ C chickpea flour
1 Tbsp. all-purpose flour
¼ C soy creamer (vanilla)
½ block of silken tofu
½ tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. vanilla extract
2+ Tbsp. powdered sugar

Toss the cherries (rinse them first, if you’re using frozen) with the cassis, and let them soak for an hour. Preheat the oven to 375. Grease a 9-in round pie plate with the Earth Balance, sprinkle it with a little of the powdered sugar, and chill it in the refrigerator.

Sift together the chickpea flour, flour, and baking powder; set aside.

Using a blender or hand blender, blend together the tofu, sugar, vanilla, and soy creamer until very smooth. Mix in the baking powder and chickpea flour so it’s smooth, but don’t overwork it.

Drain the cherries, and pour them into your prepared pie plate. Pour the custard over the top, and shift it back and forth gently until the surface is smooth.

Bake until the edges are golden brown and the center looks set (25-30 minutes) and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Dust the top with the powdered sugar, and serve.
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See? That wasn't hard either. I'm beginning to think that this whole French-cuisine-is-so-delicate-and-difficult bullshit that Bourdain perpetuates is just another means of stroking his grisly ego. (Typing that last sentence made me throw up in my mouth a little.) Regardless, enjoy!

Portabellas a la Normande

2008-03-08T17:39:00.000-08:00

Even when I was an omnivore and regularly watched the Food Network with great interest (two things that are perhaps as revealingly embarrassing to admit to as my adolescent collection of Jonathon Taylor Thomas posters), the combination of seafood and dairy flummoxed me. Taking two such easily ruined flavors and textures, each frequently dubious in its own right, and throwing them together over cream-congealing, skin-forming heat always felt like a risk not worth taking.

Clearly, though, Asshat Bourdain does not share my feelings on the subject, as evidenced by the cup of heavy cream and 6 pounds--yes, 6 pounds--of mussels in the Les Halles recipe for Moules a la Normande. I mean, seriously, dude. The half an apple you throw in there as an afterthought is just offended by this shit. And, I've said it before but it bears repeating: too much reliance on globulous dairy and greasy meat or seafood just reveals too little faith in the flavorful strength of the recipe itself. Like the host of a low-budget reality TV show, Bourdain goes straight for the culinary gross-out shock factor. And that ain't cooking.

Which is why I edited the aforementioned recipe into Portabellas a la Normande, tweaking it and improving it and removing the potential for it to be swallowed whole by a bikini-clad game show contestant in the hopes of winning $50,000 from The CW (are they still calling it that? Back in my day it was UPN.).

Anyway, a few key points: first, this is a deceptively easy, one-pot dish that takes less than an hour to prepare but will still impress the holy hell out of any haters you've been wanting to show up. Second, the important changes I made here (besides replacing the ass-ton of mussels with 4 portabella caps) were to increase the 1/2 apple to a whole apple for added substance and texture, therefore replace the apple brandy with cream sherry (to prevent over-apple-ation and also because I had good-quality cream sherry on hand and didn't feel like putting pants on and going to the ABC store), use a combination of soy creamer and coconut milk in place of the heavy cream (which gave it that "this is awesome but I have no idea what this flavor is" factor), and simmer it uncovered rather than boiling it covered. That last change produced a much-reduced, thick, rich, almost syrupy mixture rather than a bunch of stinky mussels floating in watered-down cream. Which is exactly the quality of change that we're going for.

Portabellas a la Normande

4 T non-hydrogenated margarine
1 shallot, thinly sliced
7 shiitake mushrooms, thinly sliced
1 apple, diced (I used a Pink Lady apple)
3 ounces cream sherry
3/4 cup soy creamer
1/4 cup coconut milk
salt and pepper to taste
4 portabella caps

Melt the butter over medium heat in a large pan or pot. Add the shallot, and cook until soft, about 3 minutes.

Add the mushrooms and apple, and cook for another 5 minutes. Add the sherry and stir in the creamer and coconut milk. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Bring to boil, add portabella caps, and reduce to a simmer.

Simmer about 7 minutes, flipping the portabella caps periodically so that they cook evenly on both sides. Serve 2 mushroom caps per plate, surrounded and smothered by the rest of the apple-y shallot-y saucy goodness, over rice or with bread on the side, whichever you'd prefer (we had ours with crusty French bread with herbed non-dairy cream cheese).

Les Halles Onion Soup; veganized, de-suckified.

2008-03-02T04:48:00.000-08:00

There are quite a few Bourdain soups that could be easily veganized just by switching from chicken/beef/veal stock to vegetable stock, but I wanted to start out with one that would be a little bit more involved, mainly to demonstrate that if a rank amateur like me can manage the veganization of a veal-bacon-cheese dish, anyone can do it.

So the first official recipe undertaken by Hezbollah Tofu is Les Halles' onion soup. The original is already online here if you want to take a look. This recipe calls for chicken stock, but I'm pretty sure Les Halles uses beef or veal. Whatever, we can do better.

I started out by using Earth Balance and vegetable stock where butter and meat stock appear in the original (and I halved the recipe for HT, because unless you have a family of 6 or are throwing a dinner party, you probably do not need 2 quarts of soup--but if you do just double it). I also used dry sherry instead of port wine, because I thought the drier, sharper, earthier flavor would be a better match for the flavors involved, especially since we are not using bacon.

Now, as to the aforementioned bacon, tempeh bacon crossed my mind but I sort of doubted its ability to hold together well and retain its flavor and texture through nearly an hour of simmering. If anyone wants to try it, let me know how it works. I decided to use dried black trumpet mushrooms instead, blanched in a vegetable stock/sherry mixture for a few minutes before they were added to the soup. It's worth noting that the mushroom addition here falls into the "improvement" category of Hezbollah Tofu. They're not even trying to be bacon, they're just replacing the oh-so-played-out greasy meat ingredient with something that adds a far more interesting texture, a fantastic infusion of delicate flavor, and an ability to incorporate well into the soup rather than sinking to the bottom like a fatty pork submarine.

The gruyere recipe I used is an adaptation of an adaptation from The Uncheese Cookbook. It really didn't leave much to be desired at all; it was smooth, creamy, had a strong "stinky" flavor, and floated in the soup in oozy, cheesy chunks, just as it should. I added crushed, toasted almonds for extra texture and broil-ability.

Without further adieu, here's the first in what will hopefully be a long and successful series of veganized Les Halles recipes. As with everything here, please feel free to test it, add your own improvements, photograph it (especially if your camera sucks less than mine), and send it in for posting.

Les Halles Onion Soup (only better)

For the mushrooms:
1 oz dried black trumpet mushrooms
Blanch 4 minutes in 1 1/2 cups of boiling vegetable stock plus 1 oz dry sherry; drain and retain liquid.

For the soup:
3 1/2 ounces Earth Balance (or other non-hydrogenated margarine)
4 large onions, thinly sliced
1 oz dry sherry
1 oz balsamic vinegar
1 quart (4 cups) vegetable stock
bouquet garni (this is a fantsypants French term for a bunch of fresh herbs tied together with leek leaves or twine; I used sage, thyme, bay leaves, and oregano.)

For the croutons and gruyere:
8 baguette slices, brushed with olive oil and toasted until hard and crisp
1 cup water
2 t of the retained mushroom liquid
2 T lemon juice
2 T tahini
2 T nutritional yeast
2 T quick oats
4 t cornstarch
2 t onion powder
1/4 t salt
1/2 cup crushed almonds, lightly toasted

Melt the EB over medium heat. Add the sliced onions and cook for about 25 minutes, stirring regularly, until they start to smell a little scorched and are beginning to brown uniformly.

Increase the heat to medium-high, stir in the sherry and vinegar and the drained mushrooms, and cook for 2-3 minutes. Add the stock and garni, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer 45 minutes.

While that's simmering, get your cheesy croutons ready. Combine all of the gruyere ingredients except the toasted baguette slices and almonds in a food processor and process until smooth. Transfer this liquid to a small saucepan and heat over medium heat, stirring constantly, until thick (it won't take long, despite the fact that it will be absolutely watery liquid when you pour it out of the food processor).

Preheat your oven's broiler. Ladle the soup into oven-proof containers (soup crocks would be preferable, though all I had was a small Pyrex dish and everything worked out fine). Spread a layer of gruyere on each crouton (don't be stingy) and float a couple of croutons on each serving of soup (you can also plop some extra spoonfuls of gruyere into the soup if you're feeling particularly brazen). Sprinkle the toasted crushed almonds over the top of everything, and stick the whole business under the broiler for a few minutes, checking it regularly, until the soup is bubbly and the almonds are roasty-toasty and even scorched in a few places.

Serve immediately, attempting to say "Anthony Bourdain is my little bitch" between bites.

Taking stock and making stock

2008-03-01T13:23:00.001-08:00

Before we begin our first solid round of Bourdain ass-whooping, a hearty thank you is in order to commenters here and on the PPK; whether you've stepped up to offer recipe-veganization contributions or just expressed support, every little bit helps.

Now, on to veggie stock!

Like many chefs/cooks/asshats of the French persuasion, Bourdain starts nearly every recipe off with copious amounts of stock, usually beef or veal stock. And while he's fond of extolling the culinary virtues of said stock--indeed, he has convinced himself that he would wither up and die without it, and must be suffering a shortage because the withering-up stage seems to have already commenced--the fact remains that meat stocks are one-note wonders. Braise, broil, steam and simmer all you want, you're still left with only the oily essence of beef. Add herbs and vegetables to improve upon it, and you just make it all the more clear that the best way to produce a good stock is to cut out the dead middleman and learn to make a decent vegetable stock.

And I absolutely do not mean the yellow-orange, anemic vegetable "broth" you can buy in the aseptic cartons at the grocery store, handy though it may be for everyday cooking. French food requires a dark, deep, flavorful stock, and good food in general requires a depth of flavor and a wide range of different nuanced notes that a quart of veal stock, no matter how much Anthony loves it, just cannot come close to. (The development of truly ass-kicking stock is especially important since word on the metaphorical street is that bazu of Where's the Revolution is brave and bold enough to consider taking on vegan demi-glace--which would probably forever change the world as we know it.)

This was my first attempt at a dark, rich vegetable stock, shown on the right. On the left is a bowl of pre-made grocery-store vegetable broth. See the difference?
I relied mostly on dark leafy greens and portabella mushrooms for the dark color and earthier flavors, and added lemon slices and butternut squash for some sweeter, brighter notes. This particular incarnation of veggie stock contains 2 medium onions, skin-on and roughly chopped, 2 sliced portabella caps, a big handful each of parsley, kale, and spinach, 2 peeled and chopped carrots, 1 cup of cubed butternut squash, 1/4 of a lemon with the rind intact, 5 cloves of garlic, crushed, and a few springs of fresh rosemary and thyme, covered with water and simmered for 2 hours. Before the simmering, just to give you an idea of how veggie-tastic it is, it looked like this:

It turned out pretty tasty, and definitely dark and rich enough to take on some of Les Halles' beef-centric recipes, but I think it needs a little bit more bitterness and more strong flavors.

What do you think? Brussels sprouts? Higher ratio of dark greens? (I'm killing myself trying not to make a pun involving telling you to take stock of the situation.)

This stock will shortly become part of a new and improved version of Les Halles French onion soup, and don't think I'm pussying out and skipping the torched gruyere detail. The key difference, besides the conspicuous absence of veal stock, is that I won't be lighting a Marlboro on the butane torch (P.S., Anthony, way to smoke the same brand as Carrie Bradshaw) and rattling something about the greasy soul of liquid beef into a Travel Channel camera.

No Reservations, but plenty of reparations.

2008-02-29T07:31:00.000-08:00

"Vegetarians, and their Hezbollah-like splinter faction, the vegans, are a persistent irritant to any chef worth a damn. To me, life without veal stock, pork fat, sausage, organ meat, demi-glace, or even stinky cheese is a life not worth living. Vegetarians are the enemy of everything good and decent in the human spirit, and an affront to all I stand for, the pure enjoyment of food."

- Anthony Bourdain, "Kitchen Confidential," p. 70

Anthony, it's time we talked. Don't give me that look. It's just a talk.

The thing is, you've been talking a lot of shit. And you've been doing a lot of bitching and moaning about how we joy-hating terrorist vegans ruin your day and oppose the aforementioned human spirit. And I know whenever one of us sets foot in one of your tourist traps of culinary mediocrity, you huff around like Paul Rudd in Wet Hot American Summer, roll your eyes, slice some eggplant, charge us $25 for it and take another smoke break. That's cool. We're not overly concerned.

Because, Anthony, you're kind of tragically wrong about us. But don't worry, we're not going to do something silly like picket the Travel Channel or go around bookstores drawing giant penises on your book covers with Sharpies. We have two key advantages over you in this game: we're easily mobilized, and we can cook.

So we aren't just going to "enjoy" food, we're going to enjoy vastly improved, veganized versions of your masturbatory, blood-oozing recipes. And then we're going to compile them, sell them in zine form, and donate the proceeds to vegan outreach organizations and farm sanctuaries--in your name. Anthony, I have to say, I'm really looking forward to the great work we're going to do together for veganism.

This is an open call to vegan cooks of all stripes: professional chefs and bakers, cookbook authors, food bloggers, amateur cooks, and--perhaps most importantly--ordinary, everyday people who just want to live their lives and eat their dinners without unnecessary heckling from the heroin-addled peanut gallery.

This blog will serve as a meeting ground of sorts. Send in your veganized recipes, your ideas for veganized recipes, your photos of veganized recipes, and your thoughts in general to hezbollahtofu@gmail.com, and they will comprise the blog content and eventually the zine. In addition, I will periodically post Bourdain recipes in their original format, and you can veganize them as you see fit. Further, once the Hezbollah Tofu project reaches its zenith, the non-profits that receive the proceeds will be decided on by consensus.

Ok, Anthony. You can go now. Take your leather and nicotine with you, but leave the baguette. I'm going to make it into some delicious vegan French toast.