One of the best things about this vacation is that I don’t have to pack lunches! But you might. Here’s a delicious idea you can try out this week, whether you carry a lunchbox or not.
Originally published: September 21, 2011
I have goals for this school year.
I am determined to have Gigi complete her homework of reading aloud for 20 minutes each night, even though it pains me considerably. She’s a great reader, she just chooses biographies that are about three levels too advanced for her. I had to explain what both “slavery” and “horse liniments” were today. Now that’s homework.
I am committed to making sure that Gigi maintains her innocence despite her new vocabulary. I’m not faring too well. Today she was coming up with words that rhymed with “bock.” Try as I might to be mature, I could not keep a straight face when she got to the letter “C.” And the letter “F.” I know Pea Daddy is just proud she knows what a bock is. I sure don’t.
My loftiest goal, though, is to stay out of the PB&J rut when it comes to packing lunches. I’ve done pita pizzas. I’ve done tortilla roll-ups. I’ve done salad rolls with Almond Ginger dipping sauce that somehow spilled all over her lunchbox and now has Gigi’s teacher cursing my name. Or maybe just licking her fingers?
Tonight, I’m thinking outside of the box again. And putting on a tighter lid.
Because I’m packing Tofu Dippers.
Tofu Dippers
Serves 4
- 1 15 oz. block of tofu, drained and pressed
- 1/2 t. garlic powder
- 1/2 t. onion powder
- 2 T. vegan Worcestershire sauce
- 2 T. reduced sodium soy sauce
- 2 T. water
- 1 T. organic ketchup
- 1/4 t. dry mustard
- 1 t. lemon juice
- 1 t. liquid smoke (you can find this on your condiment aisle, next to the barbecue sauces)
- 1 T. brown sugar
Press tofu for as long as possible, either using this technique or a tofu press.
I like to let it press overnight to really get it nice and firm. (I will be mature, I will be mature.)
Slice tofu into slabs that are about 2×3 inches and about 1/3 of an inch thick.
In a large bowl, whisk together garlic and onion powders, Worcestershire sauce, soy sauce, water, ketchup, mustard, lemon juice, liquid smoke, and brown sugar.
Add tofu and gently stir to coat. I simply swirl the marinade around in the bowl to make sure all the slabs are coated.
Allow the tofu to marinate in the refrigerator for several hours or overnight. The longer you marinate, the more flavor the tofu will take on. And flavor is good.
I realize this all takes a little planning ahead, but I pretty much always have a block of tofu in the press or in marinade. It takes minutes and the payoff is totally worth it.
When you have marinated long enough to make you happy, preheat the broiler. Place the slabs of tofu on a baking sheet that has been spritzed with oil or cooking spray.
Place your baking sheet under the broiler. You want to make sure that your oven rack is set close enough to the heating element so that your tofu will be crisp, but not so close that it will burn. I find the second or third notch to work best.
Broil tofu for 5-6 minutes, then carefully remove the pan from the oven, flip the tofu, and place it back under the broiler for an additional 5-6 minutes.
I tell no lies, people. No one will be able to resist this.
This tofu is delightful, chewy, crispy and flavorful, wonderful on its own, but even better with a sauce for dipping.
Some dipping suggestions:
Nacho Mmmm Sauce (I’m noticing a trend here)
Organic ketchup, barbecue or teriyaki sauce
Gigi was so excited while I was packing this, she couldn’t wait.
Sure, it’s unconventional. Gigi lives for unconventional. It’s one of the many things I love about her, and also explains her choice of historical biographies at the age of six.
But this tofu is also darn delicious and darn nutritious. And it’s not a sandwich.
Bock you, PB&J.
*************
For more school lunch ideas, check out this post.
We still have this chair, so if you ever come over for dinner, don’t lean back too far. We also still have Lu. So if you ever come over for dinner, be ready for some entertainment.
Originally published: January 6, 2011
I’ve always called Lulu “Trouble.” As in, “Here comes Trouble.” Or “What’d Trouble do now?” My mother hates it. She thinks I’ll give her a complex. But what about me?
I bought wrinkle cream this week. I blame it on the trampoline sprained ankles.
The peanut butter-coated couch cushions.
The hummus hand lotion.
The child-sized mug of hot chocolate she finds a way to take a bath in.
The sleepwalking that ends with her breaking into her chocolate advent calendar at 3 am.
The flight of stairs that I have to climb twice because I held her hand the first time she went down and she wants to do it herself.
Trouble.
Tonight Trouble took her name to a whole new level.
We were just finishing up a delicious quinoa pizza casserole. You’ll get the recipe when the sawdust clears. Lulu had been wiggling and putting handful after handful of toppings on her bowl of casserole that she never intended to eat. She fidgeted around in her chair while Gigi was telling a story about how a girl in her class brought a Slim Jim for snack time, when suddenly Lu quite calmly said, “Oh no, my leg is stuck!”
Pea Daddy gave a quick pull, I gave a quick push, and it suddenly became very clear that her leg was not going to come out. Instinctually, I turned to Pea Daddy and said, “You have to get the saw.”
As Pea Daddy went to the garage, I tried to explain to Lulu that we were just going to cut the dowel and slip her leg out and she would be just fine. Pea Daddy returned, saw in hand and approached the chair.
And then the screaming started.
Ear-piercing, blood curdling screaming, as Lulu sincerely believed that Pea Daddy was going to in fact saw her leg off. And Gigi was no help. She started shoving Pea Daddy’s arm away with one hand and pulling desperately at the chair with her other hand saying, “No, Daddy, no!”
Pea Daddy went back to the garage and quickly came back with a large set of yard clippers and before anyone knew what had happened, he’d ripped the dowel completely from the chair and Lu was free.
As Lu fell into my arms crying hysterically after the scare of her life, Gigi grabbed the dowel, ran to the living room and started using it as a dancing cane, tapping and singing, “Hello, my baby, hello, my darling, hello, my ragtime gaaaaaal!”
I feel a bit guilty because my uncontrollable laughter at Gigi wasn’t comforting Lulu in the least. She continued to sob as I hugged her, laughed and hugged her some more.
And then I told Pea Daddy to take her for ice cream.
Trouble.
