The conversation turned toward cooking today at lunch, as it often does in our group of 50-60-something-year-old women. One of us is vegetarian, my wife is alternately vegan and pescacheegan, and I am coming to the end of a surprisingly challenging meatless March. I told the tale of a field trip that Heidi and I took on Saturday to an outer suburb about 35 minutes from our home, because there was an organic grocery there that was the sole proprietor in our area to carry a newish form of meat-alternative made from mushroom roots.
Unable to pass on mycelium network based protein, the drive seemed more than worth it on a rainy afternoon, but unfortunately, the product was disappointing.
"Do you like tofu?" my vegetarian friend asked.
"Oh, I love it," I answered.
"Sometimes we just have cubes of tofu tossed in pesto," she said. "It's a great summer meal."
"I've had it that way with a more Asian-style dressing," I replied, "but pesto sounds good!"
Our conversation in praise of tofu continued on a bit. "I actually used to make my own tofu," I confessed, "but it was a huge pain in the ass."
Just then, a student, who had somehow found his way back from lunch several minutes earlier than he should have, popped his head in my classroom door. "Can I come in?" he asked obliviously.
"Just a minute," I waved and we began packing up. "I guess homemade tofu has got nothing on that guy!" I laughed.
I love tofu! It is so versatile.
ReplyDelete