Sunday, April 18, 2010

Swiss Chard and Chickpeas with Taratoor and Toasted Walnuts


This all came about because I was feeling a bit jaded with the whole cooking thing - yes, this occasionally happens - but had a great, big bunch of beautiful swiss chard in the refrigerator that really needed to be cooked, tout de suite. Something vaguely middle eastern sounded good, maybe involving chickpeas, which hadn't appeared on the table in a while; I've also had a tahini jones lately, so maybe some kind of sauce...? In the event, I wound up massaging a few different recipes until we had the delicious dinner that I share with you here. As a matter of fact, it was so delicious that it was all gobbled up before we got around to taking a picture, but trust me (have I ever lied to you? Exactly). The nice thing about dishes like this is that you can easily substitute various ingredients - white beans for chickpeas, kale, collards or spinach for the chard, pine nuts for the garnish - and it will be just as good. (Also: if you don't feel like having/making the sauce, it will still be totally yummy, but come on - you know you want to!)

The Chickpeas and Chard

Ingredients
~ 2 tbsp. olive oil
~ 2 cups chopped yellow onion
~ 2 tbsp. minced garlic
~ 1 tsp. each: salt, cumin
~ 1/2 tsp. each: dill, red pepper flakes
~ 2 cups cooked chickpeas (or 1 15 oz. can, drained)
~ 1 bunch Swiss chard, washed and roughly chopped
~ 1/4 cup tomato paste
~ 1/4 cup vegetable stock or water

Directions
~ In a large, deep skillet or wok, heat the olive oil and saute the onion over medium heat for 5-7 minutes, until softened and translucent.
~ Add the garlic, seasonings and tomato paste and cook about 3 minutes.
~ Raise the heat to high, add the chickpeas, and cook a few minutes more.
~ Pour in the broth or water to deglaze the pan, then add the chard in batches, stirring until each batch wilts before adding the next.
~ Cover the pan and reduce the heat to low; allow to cook, stirring occasionally, for 10 minutes.
~ Set aside to rest while you make...

The Taratoor

Ingredients
~ 1 cup sesame tahini
~ 1 tbsp. garlic, finely minced
~ 1/2 cup lemon juice
~ 1 tsp. salt
~ 1/2 tsp. parsley
~ 1/4 to 1/3 cup ice water
~ 1 cup chopped, toasted walnuts (for garnish)

Directions
~ Place the first 5 ingredients in a blender or food processor and puree, adding the ice water in a thin stream as it blends, until you have the consistency of a thick mayonnaise.
~ Transfer to a small saucepan and warm slowly over low heat, making sure it doesn't boil.
~ Now you can...

Serve!
~ Heat up the chickpea/chard mixture, and serve on top of rice, bulgur, quinoa, or the starch of your choice.
~ Drizzle the taratoor on top (I love this stuff, so I tend to be, well...generous, but suit yourself; NB that it's also perfect on falafel), sprinkle on the toasted walnuts, and dig in.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Simple Kantola (spiky Indian gourd) Curry


On a recent trip to the Indian grocery, we picked up a few interesting and unfamiliar vegetables, including jackfruit (which wound up in a Thai-style green curry) and a bag of frozen kantola. Having never tried it before, we weren't sure what to expect beyond the label's description of it as an "Indian gourd." A quick web search revealed that its proper name is momordica dioica, "commonly known as "teasle gourd kakrol, kankro, kartoli, kantoli, kantola or kantroli...a relatively small, oval to ovoid vegetable, it is a very highly prized vegetable in the Indian sub-continent though relatively rare. It is only available during the rainy months." Fair enough, but what should I do with it? A little more digging came up with a basic curry recipe, to which I added onions, bell pepper, and a dash of sugar to cut the bitterness common to many gourds. With some naan and spicy pickle, it made a nice accompaniment to some leftover chana dal khichari; if you don't have access to kantola, I think this would be very good with okra, or even eggplant, which are more widely available. However, if you are lucky enough to have a good Indian market nearby, pick up some of this stuff and give it a go, if only so you can answer the inevitable question, "What's for dinner?" with "Spiky, bitter Indian gourds - you wanna make something of it?"

Simple Kantola Curry
Ingredients
~ 2 tbsp. canola oil
~ 1/2 tsp. black mustard seeds
~ 1 medium yellow onion, chopped
~ 1 red bell pepper, chopped
~ 1 12 oz frozen package kantola (Indian gourd), or okra
~ 1 tsp. each: salt, fenugreek powder, sugar
~ 1/2 tsp. each: coriander, cayenne pepper
~ 1/4 tsp. turmeric
~ 1/4 cup water

Directions
~ Heat the canola oil in a heavy-bottomed skillet; add the mustard seeds and fry over medium-high heat until they pop.
~ Add the onions, and cook a few minutes, until they are just starting to soften.
~ Add the bell pepper and fry about 3 minutes more; add the kantola and remaining spices, stirring to coat.
~ Reduce heat to low, cover, and cook for 15-20 minutes, stirring at regular intervals to prevent sticking. If necessary, add a bit of water (up to 1/4 cup) to the pan to deglaze it.
~ Remove the lid, raise the heat to high, and cook another 5 minutes, stirring frequently until the vegetables are brown and slightly crisp.
~ Serve with dal, rice and/or naan bread, and the spicy pickle of your choice.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Leek and Mushroom Risotto


Henry V. Act I, Scene I. France. The English camp.

FLUELLEN:
I say, I will make him eat some part of my leek, or
I will peat his pate four days. Bite, I pray you; it
is good for your green wound and your ploody coxcomb.

PISTOL:
Must I bite?

FLUELLEN:
Yes, certainly, and out of doubt and out of question
too, and ambiguities.

PISTOL:
By this leek, I will most horribly revenge: I eat
and eat, I swear-

FLUELLEN:
Eat, I pray you: will you have some more sauce to
your leek? there is not enough leek to swear by.

PISTOL:
Quiet thy cudgel; thou dost see I eat.

FLUELLEN:
Much good do you, scauld knave, heartily. Nay, pray
you, throw none away; the skin is good for your
broken coxcomb. When you take occasions to see leeks
hereafter, I pray you, mock at 'em; that is all.

As we see from this heated exchange between the Welsh Fluellen (speaking in the politically incorrect, comic dialect assigned him by our favorite early modern playwright) and the English Pistol, not everyone is a born lover of the allium ampeloprasum. Which is a pity, since the leek is a fascinating vegetable with a noble heritage; as one of the national emblems of Wales, it is traditionally worn, along with the daffodil, on St. David’s Day, celebrated annually on March 1. Legend has it that this association stretches back to the 7th century, when King Cadwaladr ap Gwynedd ordered his soldiers to wear the vegetables in their helmets to commemorate a military victory over the Saxons, which happened to take place in a leek field (hey, it's no sillier than the Plantagenets being named after a penchant for sporting yellow flowers, right?). Shakespeare even has Henry V, the hero of Agincourt, admit to rocking the leek on "St. Davy's Day," in honor of his ancestor, Owain ap Maredudd ap Tewdwr: "I wear it for a memorable honour,/ For I am Welsh, you know, good countryman."

Beyond its roles as cultural signifier and fodder for Elizabethan ethnic jokes, the leek has a long and illustrious culinary history. According to Wikipedia, "dried specimens from archaeological sites in ancient Egypt, as well as wall carvings and drawings...[indicate] that the leek was a part of the Egyptian diet from at least the 2nd millennium B.C.E. onwards." Furthermore, "surviving texts...show it had been also grown in Mesopotamia from the beginning of the 2nd millennium B.C.E.," and "the leek was the favorite vegetable of the Emperor Nero, who consumed it most often in soup." But wait - if the endorsement of a ruler whom the Roman historian Suetonius described as having "...a body marked with spots and malodorous, his hair light blond, his features regular rather than attractive, his eyes blue and somewhat weak, his neck over thick, his belly prominent, and his legs very slender" isn't enough to convince you, consider that leeks are also a good source of manganese, vitamin C, folate, iron and vitamin B6.

Perhaps more important than all these things, however, is the fact that they are yummy. Leeks are closely related to garlic, onions, shallots and scallions, and while delicious when used in any recipe calling for those vegetables, they have a special character all their own. In our culture, they are most often found in dishes like potato-leek soup, but they are also lovely when roasted, in tofu quiches or scrambles, and in recipes like the one below (you were wondering when I'd get to the point, weren't you?). Risotto gets a bad rap for being labor and time intensive, but it's actually very simple - all you need is the right type of rice, a little patience, and about 30 minutes when you can stand at the stove, holding a wooden spoon and drinking a glass of wine. That doesn't sound too difficult, does it? So don't wait until next St. Davey's Day to pick up some leeks, some mushrooms, and a jar of Arborio rice, and within an hour you'll have a meal that could be proudly served to Cadwaladr, Henry V, and Nero - now that would be an interesting dinner party!

Leek and Mushroom Risotto
Ingredients
~ 1 tbsp. olive oil
~ 2 tbsp. garlic, minced
~ 2 large leeks, cleaned, sliced in half lengthwise and chopped
~ 1 10 oz. package mushrooms, sliced
~ 1 tsp. salt
~ 2 tsp. tarragon
~ A few healthy grinds of black pepper
~ 1/2 cup plain, usweetened soy milk
~ 2 tbsp. Earth Balance (or other vegan margarine)
~ 1 medium onion, chopped
~ 1/2 tsp. salt
~ 1 tsp. parsley
~ 2 cups arborio rice
~ 1/2 cup dry white wine
~ 5-6 cups hot vegetable broth
~ Juice of 1 lemon (about 1/4 cup)

Directions
~ In a large skillet, heat the olive oil and saute the garlic over medium heat for about a minute.
~ Add the leeks, and cook about 5 minutes, stirring frequently.
~ Add the mushrooms, salt, tarragon and pepper, and cook 5-7 minutes more, until the mushrooms are giving up their liquid.
~ Raise the heat to high, pour in the 1/2 cup soy milk, and cook another minute or two, until the mixture is creamy and slightly thickened. Remove from heat and set aside.
~ In a large, deep saucepan, melt the margarine over medium heat and add the chopped onion, salt and parsley.
~ Cook about 5-7 minutes, until the onions are softened but not brown.
~ Add the rice, and cook for about a minute, making sure the rice is coated with the margarine/onion mixture.
~ Pour in the wine and stir to deglaze the pan.
~ When the wine has mostly evaporated, begin adding the hot broth about a 1/2 cup ladleful at a time, stirring constantly until all the liquid is absorbed.
~ As each ladleful is absorbed, add another, until all the broth has been used. Remember to keep stirring! (This part of the process should take about 20-25 minutes; if you think the liquid is disappearing too quickly, lower the heat.)
~ When all the broth has been absorbed and the rice is tender, add the leek & mushroom mixture, along with the lemon juice.
~ Stir to combine and serve hot, topped with a sprinkle of fresh parsley and/or basil.

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Mushroom, Spinach, and "Chicken" Lasagna Alfredo


Like many vegans of my acquaintance, I get a certain masochistic charge from watching the Food Network. Seriously: between the over-the-top personalities (Paula Deen deep-fryin' butter, y'all!), bizarre schticks (Sandra Lee's Semi-Homemade? WTF is that?), scary bared teeth and fake boobs (ciao, Giadda!), and gratuitous screaming at the mere mention of pork products (the Neelys really need to dial it down; they must terrify their children), it can be hard to look away. One of my main beefs, however - you should pardon the expression - is how few of these people seem to actually cook, as opposed to simply combining a bunch of packaged stuff and calling it a "recipe."

Not to sound like Grampa Simpson, but in my day, ripping open a box of cake mix, throwing in a can of cherry pie filling, and dumping a handful of mini-marshmallows on top didn't necessarily merit your own TV show, dammit. There are a few exceptions to this rule (Alton Brown and Ina Garten come to mind), and the fact that almost everything they produce is soaked in the various effluvia of dead animals doesn't necessarily prevent a creative herbivore from exploiting them as a source of interesting, often highly veganizable ideas.

That being the case, today's recipe comes to you courtesy of the last of the above-mentioned triumvirate, a man who actually annoys the living crap out of me, but he does know how to do more than operate a can opener, so that's something, right? One day, idly channel-surfing while home sick with a nasty cold, I came upon (the pretty damn annoying) Emeril Lagasse making this lasagna and thought, "Hey, that looks pretty good, and I haven't tried that Gardein stuff yet!"

A few weeks went by, my spring break arrived, and the time seemed right to give it a whirl. Since this was my first experience with Gardein products (which have been getting a lot of buzz in vegan circles), and I'm not generally a big fan of meat analogues, I was excited and trepidatious in equal measure. It was also the first time I'd used those "oven-ready" lasagna sheets that don't have to be boiled first, so there was, as the Neelys might put it, "all kinds of (non-pork related) craziness going on in my kitchen, baby!"

Additionally, since the original recipe called for all kinds of cheese, cream, and an entire stick of butter, I was faced with the task of creating that Alfredo-like "richness" without courting a major cardiac event; after a little thought, I hit on raw cashews, which are nothing short of miraculous for creating thick, creamy textures. This proved a stroke of genius - once I'd pureed the nuts, sauteed the veggies in some margarine, and added a few handfuls of fake mozzarella, the finished product bore little resemblance to the virtuous, groats and berries "health food" upon which vegans are often imagined to subsist, yet still boasted a whole bunch of vegetables, and a fraction of the fat, calories, and overall grossness of the original.

As for the Gardein, while it did add a certain "chickeny" something, this dish would be every bit as good without it, so go ahead and make it even if you don't have access to trendy fake meat. (In fact, my partner always makes it with just the veggies, and it's a huge hit around here.) Do be forewarned that this makes a lot, and is exceptionally filling, so unless you're feeding an army you will have leftovers; then again, what's wrong with that? If you make a pan on the weekend, you could easily feed off it for a few busy weekdays without ever turning on the stove, which is always a fine thing. (Or, as Emeril would say: BAM!)

Mushroom, Spinach, and "Chicken" Lasagna Alfredo
The Sauce
Ingredients
~ 1 cup raw cashews
~ 3 cups vegan "chicken" broth
~ 2 tbsp. Earth Balance, or other vegan margarine
~ 1 lb. mushrooms, sliced (I used a combination of crimini and shiitake)
~ 2 cups yellow onion, finely chopped
~ 3 tbsp. garlic, minced
~ 1 tsp. kosher salt
~ 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
~ 1 cup fresh basil, chopped
~ 2 tsp. paprika
~ 1/2 tsp. each: garlic powder, onion powder, oregano, thyme

~ 1/4 teaspoon each: nutmeg, cayenne
~ Freshly ground black pepper
~ 4 cups plain, unsweetened soy milk
~ 1 pound baby spinach, roughly chopped


Directions
~ Preheat the oven to 375 degrees fahrenheit.
~ In a beaker, combine the vegetable broth and the raw cashews and microwave for 3-4 minutes, until boiling. Set aside to soak for at least 30 minutes (the longer, the better).
~ In a deep pot, melt the margarine over medium heat. Add the mushrooms and cook, stirring often until the mushrooms are browned and most of the liquid has evaporated, about 5 to 7 minutes.
~ Add the onions, garlic, and seasonings to the pan; sauté for about 5 minutes, until the onions are soft and translucent.
~ Add the flour and cook, stirring with a wooden spoon, to make a light roux, about 1-2 minutes.
~ In a food processor, combine the raw cashews and vegetable broth and puree until smooth.
~ Whisking constantly, slowly add the cashew/broth puree and soy milk and continue to cook, stirring occasionally until thickened, 5 minutes.
~ Stir in the spinach and fresh basil, and stir to combine. Cook another 5 minutes, until the greens wilt.
~ Remove from heat and set aside.

The "Chicken" (if using; otherwise skip to the next bit)
Ingredients
~ Cooking spray
~ 2 7 oz. packages Gardein chick'n breasts, cubed
~ Salt, pepper, tarragon

Directions
~ Sprinkle the Gardein cubes with some salt, pepper and a little tarragon.
~ Coat a skillet with the cooking spray and sauté the seasoned cubes over medium heat until browned, about 5-7 minutes.
~ Remove from heat and set aside.

Also
~ 1 lb. oven-ready lasagna sheets
~ 2 cups grated vegan mozzarella (I use Daiya or TJ's)
~ 1 tbsp. EB, cut into small pieces
~ About 1/2 tsp. each: dried parsley, paprika (for garnish)

The Assembly
~ Coat a 9 x 13" casserole with cooking spray, and spread about 1/2 cup of the sauce on the bottom of the dish; reserve and set aside another cup or so of the sauce.
~ Add the "chicken" to the remaining sauce and combine thoroughly.
~ Lay overlapping sheets of the pasta across the bottom of the dish to cover, then spread 1/3 of the sauce over the pasta. make another layer of pasta, another layer of sauce, and repeat, ending with a pasta layer.
~ Pour the reserved sauce over the top layer of pasta, sprinkle with the mozzarella, and scatter the margarine pieces over the whole business.
~ Sprinkle with the parsley and paprika.
~ Place the casserole on a baking sheet and cook, uncovered, until bubbly and well browned, about 45 minutes (keep an eye on it to make sure it doesn't burn; if you prefer, you could cover the casserole with foil for the first 20 minutes, then remove it to crisp things up).
~ Remove from the oven and allow to cool for at least 15 minutes before serving.
Note: You may need slightly less than the entire package of lasagna noodles, depending on the pan used for the casserole. Also, you may be able to fit more than 3 pieces of pasta in each layer, depending. The pasta can be broken into smaller pieces to fill in the gaps.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Thai-Inspired Coconut Noodle Soup


This started out intending to be curry laksa, but I was missing a number of key ingredients, and had neither the time nor the inclination to go grocery shopping. I still wanted an Asian, coconut-flavored soup, however, and by the time I'd subbed onions for shallots, basil for curry leaves, red and green curry pastes for yellow, thrown in some scallions, etc., it had become Something Completely Different, and was definitely rocking more of a Thai vibe than the original version. Fortunately, it was also delicious, so while I will get to the Indian market and make that other recipe one day soon, I figured I'd type this up to ensure that it could be A. shared with you, gentle reader, and B. replicated the next time I want some Thai-style noodle soup. We had this on the sort of miserable, cold, rainy, windy March night that results in the month's frequent comparison to a lion, but the bright, just-spicy-enough flavors of basil, lemongrass, curry and lime made it seem entirely possible that the soft, wooly lamb of springtime might be waiting, just around the corner.

Thai-Inspired Coconut Noodle Soup
Ingredients
~ 1 cup onions, chopped
~ 1 cup fresh basil
~ 2 tbsp. garlic, minced
~ 2 tbsp. fresh ginger, grated
~ 1 tsp. dried lemongrass
~ 1 tsp ground coriander
~ 1 tbsp red curry paste
~ 1 tbsp green curry paste
~ 4 tbsp vegetable oil
~ 6 scallions, thinly sliced
~ 1 tbsp curry powder
~ 1 tsp salt
~ 1 tbsp sugar
~ 4 cups vegetable stock
~ 2 14 oz cans lite coconut milk
~ 8 oz. rice vermicelli noodles
~ Bean sprouts
~ 4 cups roughly chopped baby spinach
~ Juice of 1 lime
~ 1 tsp hot sauce
~ Fresh coriander, and some roasted peanuts or cashews, chopped (optional, for garnish)

Directions
~ Put the first 8 ingredients in a food processor. Add 2 tbsp. of the oil, and process to a semi-smooth paste.
~ Heat the remaining 2 tbsp. oil in a saucepan and fry the spice paste on low-medium heat for 20 minutes, stirring all the time – it should cook slowly, without burning.
~ Add the scallions, stock, curry powder, salt, sugar and coconut milk, stir to combine, and simmer gently for 30 minutes, then taste and adjust the seasonings, if necessary.
~ Add the spinach, stir, and cook another few minutes, until it is just wilted, and stir in the lime juice and hot sauce.
~ Once the broth is done, cook the rice noodles according to package directions and drain.
~ Immerse the bean sprouts in a pot of boiling water, drain at once and refresh with cool water.
~ Just before serving, add a handful of the bean sprouts to the hot soup and stir.
~ To serve, put the desired amount of noodles into bowls, and ladle the soup over them. Top with another handful of sprouts, and sprinkle with the coriander and nuts, if using. YUM.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Robert's Childhood Chili, All Grown Up


Here I am, guest posting once again. This - pretty damn classic, if I say so myself - recipe is basically an amalgam of childhood memories and Craig Claiborne’s “Chili Con Carne” from the venerable New York Times Cookbook (1961). I know that wars have raged, thousands have died, and states have been formed and dissolved over the various styles of chili (beans? no beans? if yes, how many beans? how big should the vegetables be? should there even be vegetables?), but to be frank, I don’t find such debates all that interesting. Personally, if I can achieve a reasonable, vegan approximation of what I ate as a child, I’m all happy.

As it happens, this recipe is one of those facsimiles so reasonable that you really have to wonder what the hell was up with all that animal-killing stuff in the first place. I am fortunate in this regard, because the chili my mother made used ground meat, rather than big chunks of cow, which makes it ever so much easier to imitate (and if you’re one of those haters who stalk vegan blogs to point out how freaky it is for herbivores to imitate the textures of pre-vegan dishes, I have three important words for you: poo poo bums. So there).

In any event, chili is one of those dishes that seems to span decades - yea, verily, even generations! - social classes, and political sensibilities, so here’s a good all-purpose recipe that will please at barbecues, church socials, Samhain celebrations, potlucks, brisses, and ritual feasts for any religion or anti-religion you care to name. I myself am not a fan of large, discernible chunks of vegetables in chili; I like it smooth enough that you could conceivably spoon it over rice, if that's what you're into. So I encourage you to chop those veggies fine, kids, and don't forget the cornbread!

Robert's Childhood Chili, All Grown Up
Ingredients
~ 2 tbsp olive oil
~ 1 large red onion, chopped
~ 2 stalks celery, small dice
~ 1 large carrot, small dice
~ 1 bell pepper, small dice
~ 2 tsp each: ground cumin, chili powder
~ 1.5 tsp kosher or regular salt
~ 1 tsp each: marjoram, coriander, celery seed
~ 1/2 tsp each: cinnamon, cayenne
~ Dash nutmeg
~ 3 tbsp minced garlic
~ 1 pkg. vegan ground "beef" like Gimme Lean, or  TJ's or Nate's meatballs, mashed
~ 1/4 cup red wine
~ 2 cups no chicken broth
~ 1 28 oz. can diced tomatoes
~ 1 28 oz. can kidney beans
~ 1 tbsp. each: vegan Worcestershire sauce, HP Sauce
~ 1 tsp. Marmite
~ 2 large bay leaves

Directions
~ Heat the oil in a large pot over medium heat; add the onion, celery, and carrot; sauté 5 minutes.
~ Add the bell pepper, garlic, and dry seasonings and cook about 2-3 minutes.
~ Add the ground "beef,"cook for another 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, and then pour in the wine.
~ Allow the wine to cook off for a minute or two and then add all the remaining ingredients. Mix well, bring the whole business to a boil ever so briefly. Lower the heat to simmer and cook for about an hour, stirring occasionally, until you reach your Platonic ideal of chili consistency.
~ Remove the bay leaves, and serve with cornbread, and maybe a green salad to satisfy honor. (Or not).

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Tofu Benedict


This might be, quite honestly, the best brunch dish I've ever made, and I don't make such claims lightly. It may have had something to do with the first day of my spring break being a bright, sunny Saturday; combined with the absence (albeit temporary) of immediately pressing projects demanding my attention, an elaborate, multi-step brunch seemed like a great idea.

Initially, I thought this would keep me in the kitchen for ages - a proposition with which I was perfectly cool, since we had A. all the time in the world, and B. cheap "champagne" and OJ for mimosas - but in the event it all came together pretty fast. If you plan ahead, you can marinate the tofu the night before, and have both it and the tempeh baking while you make the sauce, steam the asparagus, etc. Even if you're like me, and are not especially organized, it was still done in under an hour, so no worries.

With spring on the way at last, beautiful asparagus will be appearing more frequently - and at less expense - so why not take advantage of it, and whip up some Tofu Benedict the next time you have a lazy morning at home? (For that matter, this dish would make a good dinner, too; the recipe below makes a generous quantity of sauce, so go ahead and ladle it over some extra asparagus, roasted potatoes, your dining companion, or whatever!)

Tofu Benedict
The Tofu
Ingredients
~ 1 lb. extra firm tofu, drained and pressed
~ 1 cup vegetable broth
~ 1 tbsp. soy sauce
~ 1 tbsp. olive oil
~ 1 tsp. hot sauce
~ 1 tsp. each: paprika, garlic powder, curry powder
~ 1/2 tsp. turmeric (optional, for color)

Directions
~ Preheat the oven to 400 degrees fahrenheit.
~ Cut the tofu into 4 rectangles, then carefully slice each rectangle in half horizontally, so you have 8.
~ In a shallow pan or bowl, mix all the remaining ingredients together, then place the tofu in the mixture. Flip the tofu over to coat, and marinate at least 1/2 an hour (the longer the better), flipping occasionally so as much marinade is absorbed as possible.
~ Coat a baking sheet with cooking spray, and arrange the marinated tofu on it. Bake for 20 minutes, turning over at the halfway point. If you like, you can spoon on a bit of the leftover marinade every so often as it's baking.
~ Remove from oven and set aside.

The Hollandaise
Ingredients
~ 3/4 cup raw cashews, soaked and drained
~ Juice of 1 lemon
~ 1 cup plain, unsweetened soy (or other non-dairy) milk
~ 1 cup vegetable broth
~ 1 tbsp. garlic, minced
~ 2 tbsp. nutritional yeast
~ 1 tsp. each: salt, dry mustard
~ Dash turmeric (for color)
~ A few grinds of black pepper
~ 2 tbsp. Earth Balance
~ 2 tbsp. flour
~ 1.5 tsp. tarragon

Directions
~ In a food processor, combine all but the last 3 ingredients (EB, flour, and tarragon). Blend thoroughly until smooth.
~ In a saucepan, melt the margarine over low heat Aed the tarragon, saute briefly, then add the flour to make a roux.
~ Raise the heat to medium, then begin gradually adding the blended cashew mixture, stirring continually.
~ Cook about 5-7 minutes, continuing to stir, until heated through and thickened; if it gets too thick, add a little plain soy (or other) milk to thin it out to the consistency you like.

The Other Stuff
~ 4 English muffins, split and lightly toasted
~ 1 big bunch of asparagus, steamed until just bright green
~ 1 package tempeh bacon, cooked according to directions
~ 1 lb. mushrooms, sliced and sauteed in olive oil with a little salt and tarragon (optional, but awesome)

The Assembly
~ Lightly spread muffin halves with margarine, then top each one with the following, in this order: tofu slice, bacon, asparagus, hollandaise (be generous!), mushrooms.
~ Serve immediately, ideally with a Bloody Mary or mimosa, and some roasted potatoes on the side.