crack the plates

Nate’s sister & brother-in-law came to visit last weekend. Like all my best friends, past & present beloveds, and intrepid family members, they got the culinary royal treatment. The weekend prior I went marketing at one of Richmond’s jewels, the Saturday morning farmer’s market, and came home with this bounty:

Highlights: Assortment of red, gold, & blue potatoes from David Reed, an elderly couple, & Earlham’s Miller Farm; onions from Preston; cabbage from a good-natured Polish woman who lived through the war (& has been farming since!); two peppers from the same, purple by way of green, with a slow-glow to red; heirloom garlic from Arden Hearth; heirloom tomatoes; squashes for a tempeh dish; eggplant for roasting; carrots from David for munching; jalepenos to give curries a kick.

Peppers after a luminous week-long vacation in the windowsill:

Incidentally, I mentioned this magic to David Reed on Saturday when I picked up a couple of big green bells from him. He had no idea! The ones he sold me for sixty cents apiece are slowly turning a lovely orange in the same spot.

Friday night I made baked tofu with sesame flavors, new potatoes in a wasabi creme gravy, peanut noodles, and edamame & fresh corn in radicchio. Tofu pressed for well over an hour + three days worth of marinating = intense saturation of flavor.

Saturday lunch was pineapple & onion burritos from La Mexicana, but that night was special. I had made fresh seitan a few days prior and whipped it out for a caribbean jerk recipe. Served with mashed roasted sweet potatoes (soymilk + earth balance + maple syrup + salt), and sweet-and-sour kale, a rhapsody in flavor:

Quite happily, this meal reminded me of one I shared with an aforementioned beloved at Calabash Vegetarian Kitchen in Atlanta. Success!

Lazy Sunday morning? Brunch! Doesn’t it look like these fluffy orange scones, studded with organic zest & dressed in a home-made citrus glaze, are about to levitate from the plate? Divinity!

The main course was asparagus & sun-dried tomato frittata, one of my favorite recipes from Vegan With a Vengeance (from whence the scone recipe comes, too!), and a sad attempt at hashbrowns. Clearly my line-cook days are too far behind me… I just couldn’t get ‘em crispy enough. Oh well, I’m not crying over one miss among so many successes! Especially when we just smothered ‘em ketchup.

Note: The scones also take a while (setting time for the glaze), but if you own Vegan With a Vengeance you’d be a fool not to try them. However! The recipe is wrong, wrong, wrong when it comes to the amount of flour you’ll need to use. Isa says 3 cups of all-purpose flour, but the dough didn’t reach the right consistency til I’d added around four cups. And when it says soy creme, you really can just use soymilk.

I hope Nate’s fam felt extra-special loved. As with Ayurvedic cooks, I deeply believe that one’s goodwill is transmitted through food during the cooking process. And while my kitchen certainly isn’t ritually clean, the intent is there. I’ve joked that cooking is the only thing I get “right”… not because of special skill or years of practice, but because from mincing to garnishing, I’m thinking about how much I like the person I’m feeding. May you be blessed with the same treatment!

So this is a little bit of a vintage post for y’all, seeing as how I made this dish with my pal Seth about three weeks ago. It nevertheless counts as a “WAWWA” post because it is what I ate. I just didn’t eat it very recently.

First things first: you’d think a veg of eleven years would have made home-made seitan a long, long time ago. I am, in fact, more than a little self-conscious that I hadn’t. So why now? There are a couple related reasons why it took me so many moons to get my act together. I waited much longer than I ought to have on a delinquent friend who promised and promised, season after season (literally), to midwife my seitan-making. As with so many other things, he never came through. (Burn!) Eh, I’m not really holding a grudge…but I will say this. When I bought the vital wheat gluten that was eventually used to make the seitan, it was over a year in-date. When Seth and I finally made it, it was three months expired. Thank goodness it was frozen for most of its lifecycle, so it didn’t matter at all. Still. I got my B face on.

I really wanted someone to walk me through my first time, and the prospect of making seitan with someone who had so successfully, deliciously made it before was appealing. The main reason I hesitated? I am almost completely unfamiliar with a crucial step of seitan-making: kneading. Yep, despite however highly you may regard my cooking skills, I honestly don’t have much experience with recipes that require kneading. The only non-sweet bread I make requires little more than pouring a can of beer into the dry and mixing. Yet seitan simply doesn’t happen without lots and lots of good firm kneading. It’s a pretty simple process, isn’t it? But the prospect of somehow getting it wrong was weirdly dissuasive.

As it turns out, the most important ingredient in seitan is not experience, but enthusiasm. And Seth had that:

A fellow virgin seitan-maker, but with slightly more kneading experience, he vaulted at the challenge. Check out this gorgeous lump of gluten and spices he tamed:

Actually it’s kind of hideous, isn’t it? Like a couple colors of Playdough teamed up with some silly putty & moonrocks and did the meiotic mambo. That’s about what it felt like, too. But don’t let that dissuade you! Just roll it out into a log and cut, with a serrated knife if possible, into six equal pieces. Then simmer it in veg stock for quite a while:

Once it’s simmered the appropriate amount of time (check your recipe) it’ll need to cool completely. To hasten this process and get it off our minds, we put it on the front porch while we, along with Nate & Michael, watched the second half of Tron.

While the boys gabbed about object-oriented programming in the front room, Seth smashed a wine bottle and I whipped up the marinade for “Ethiopian Seitan and Peppers” from Isa’s Vegan With a Vengeance. About 25 minutes later, we feasted:

Ethiopian Seitan and Peppers goes delightfully with RuPaul’s Drag Race. Since the recipe requires a half a cup of red wine, go ahead and pour yourself a glass! As we learn from the gals in the Interior Illusions Lounge, you throw funner shade when you’re sauced.

To friends with enthusiasm. *clink*

PS. Seth has a blog, too, and it’s a good one. You should read it.