crack the plates

Where do you stand on no-fat-added cooking? If you’re a vegan who reads cookbooks and keeps up with blogs, you’re likely familiar with the concept of “steam-frying” in particular. I first became acquainted with it years ago, via Bryanna Clark Grogan’s Almost-No-Fat Cookbooks and Vegan Feast blog. Isa covered it in Appetite for Reduction, released December 2010. The vegan cook who seems to be getting the most attention for no-fat-added cooking lately is Lindsay, of Happy Herbivore, with her eponymous cookbooks – but the methods are nothing new.

Basically, steam-frying proponents say that instead of starting with a little oil in your pan (and then adding the onion or other vegetables or proteins), you should save yourself the fat and use a little water for “frying”. (It’s not “frying”, at all, of course – frying by definition means using fat.) The water sizzles and steams the food. Over high heat, it will evaporate quickly, but you just need to add a splash of water to keep it going. (And be sure to work that thin spatula, ‘cuz stuff sticks!)

Can you guess my position on steam-frying?

Probably: I have long been a staunch opponent. ”I will use less fat”, I concede, “perhaps one tablespoon instead of three. And I’ll even measure it so I know I’m not cheating. But I will not “steam-fry” my food!” As a classically-inclined cook, I took the idea of doing without a little oil in the pan as an almost personal affront. Oil is necessary for caramelization, even cooking, and crispiness… AKA, deliciousness! I love fat, flavor, richness, lusciousness – and I love my big fat body, too!

But here’s the thing: I had never actually tried true steam-frying before today. And when I did, I made something truly tasty.

My first steam-fried red curry with onions, garlic, bell pepper, tempeh, potato, and spinach.

I was shocked. Dumbfounded. Speechless. How does this taste good? It’s wrong! After all, one of my culinary adages has long been the following: everything good starts with a fried onion.

Now I’m eating my hat and admitting the truth: I managed to make something delicious with no added oil.

I should point out, however, that this dish was by no means fat-free: it contained a scant half-cup of coconut milk, which contains 17 grams of fat. The tempeh has 11 grams per serving. Put these together in the amount that I ate, and I got 14 grams before we even started thinking about added oil (which would contribute another 7 grams if I stuck to one tablespoon).

(HEY! MAYBE THAT’S WHY IT TASTED SO GOOD! The tempeh and the little bit of coconut milk saved the day! I shall have to try this steam-frying business with a lower-fat dish.)

Still, I’m glad I saved myself the 7 grams and attendant calories. I love fat, but honestly, I didn’t miss it. And that’s the point, right?

Here’s what I did:

• In a large skillet I heated about 1/3 cup water on high.
• Once it was simmering, I added onion: I started with half a small organic red onion, diced, and half a small organic white onion, diced.
• Then a large organic garlic clove, thinly sliced, and half a large organic red bell pepper, chopped.
• Stir-fried these in the water til the water evaporated, then added a little more water, then permitted to evaporate again.
• In the meanwhile, mixed about 1.5 tablespoons of red curry paste in some hot water, added 1.5 tbsp organic, fair-trade sugar, 2 tbsp organic lime juice, 1.5 tbsp organic tamari, and about 1/2 cup organic coconut milk.
• Poured over the onion sauce and let it simmer violently.
• Crumbled a block of organic tempeh over, heated through, folding with my spatula often.
• Added slices of cooked organic potato, mixed and heated through.
• Added handfuls of organic spinach and steamed gently.
• Served!

In conclusion: steam-frying may be an awesome power to wield, but it must be employed thoughtfully. At best, it will save you some fat/calories without detracting from the overall finished flavor, but it won’t give you the crispy/caramelly flavor and texture you expect on onions/veg/proteins. Use in moderation. :-)

My cat Perl is enormous. It makes me sad.

She wants to eat everything. Like most human adults, she’s addicted to carbs.

But tonight she went too far, begging for curry.

actual conversation with my cat, perl:

(I scrape curry onto my plate)

perl: I LOVE CURRY! I LOVE CURRY! I LOVE CURRY! I LOVE CURRY!

(leaving kitchen, carrying plate, followed by perl)

perl: I LOVE CURRY! please! Give me curry! I LOVE CURRY! Please! Curry!

me: you hate curry. you don’t even eat this! go away.

perl: I LOVE CURRY!

me: this is people food. give it a rest.

perl: CURRY! CURRY! I LOVE CURRY!

(plates are set on table; i look away to jot a quick e-mail)

(perl props herself on coffee table & paws at curry)

me: PERL!! GO AWAY!!

(perl stalks off and sulks on the couch. no curry for perl.)

A surprisingly confessional & somewhat depressing post. Hold on to your hats.

Several reasons we should have dinner together:

Veggie cashew tom yum curry, shared with friends Lindsey & Chris.

My plate, close-up.

Indian feast, shared with friends Kelly & Chris.

Sweet roasted root vegetables and bhindi masala, enjoyed with friend Dave.

Dinner plate:

When I lived in Atlanta (particularly post-undergrad) my favorite thing to do was throw a dinner party & have lots of friends over. It’s almost unreasonable how effortless it was to send out a mass text or quick e-mail and, just a few hours later, be greeted by a half dozen or more of my favorite people. So many of my best memories revolve around food: like the time I prepared a full-on Mediterranean-style mezze meal for my best friend Jina that featured hand-stuffed vegan dolmades (grape leaves; not to mention tabouli, baba ghanoush, hummus, and more). Or the time my ex & I slaved in a hot June kitchen putting together possibly the most overblown Southern meal of my life–collards, cornbreads, chick’n fried tofu smothered in gravy, skillet corn, fried okra, fried squash…the list goes on. Or the year “Christmas” to my nearest & dearest meant a lavish Indian-style meal served in courses on pillows in the gorgeous condo where I was house-sitting at the time. Not to mention the fact that more than a couple of friends chose to introduce me to their newest sig ot over a shared dinner. Preparing food together is a great way to get to know someone, and it’s always fun to gossip about a new beau’s knife-skills (or lack thereof) later.

Make no mistake: these things happened on a weekly basis. Despite being busy employees (of art magazines, non-profits, hospitals, restaurants, and major research universities; third-shift included) and grad students, we made time for one another. Sure, I was often the catalyst, providing the welcoming home and the good food, but folks showed an interest. They showed up.

I grieve for the fact that, here in Richmond, it has not been so easy. My friends are often so perennially over-scheduled that I seem to have to start checking dates or soliciting for these ridiculous doodle polls weeks in advance. We lack a culture of breezy stop-ins and drop-bys…regrettably, the few times I’ve bucked the trend and just gone for it, it’s been a little hairy. (Not that anyone’s ever been inhospitable–but the surprise showed.) Our buzzword is, tragically, “busy”–but for what? Unprogrammed time, unregimented schedules, & spontaneous fun are in perilously short supply. Why? Is anyone happier for it? I know I’m not. At the risk of being overly confessional, I recently posted several pictures from happy days/meals past on my wall to remind me of gentler times…and to give me hope that one day I’ll be having those great parties again.

And there are glimmers of hope. Recently a friend stopped by, totally unexpected, and we ended up having a joyful hour-long conversation over tea. I wasn’t even recovered yet from a recent illness, but her presence filled me with energy and life. I know that now is not, with 32 packed days left til my Master’s thesis is turned in, a particularly auspicious time to start throwing dinner parties…or even encouraging all of my friends to show up at the doorstep anytime they please. But I do plan on continuing to cultivate an open, hospitable spirit, such that when these 32 days have been conquered I can apply myself with renewed vigor to friendship-building through food. Perhaps in so doing I’ll slowly be able to loosen my vice-grip on past memories, dear as they are.

But I can’t do this without you. We’ve gotta build this together.

A necessary post-script: Thanks to those who are already doing it, who inspire me, who’ve made time for dinner and meaningful conversation. You are the reason this post has pictures. :)