Some of you have very sweetly written me to ask how I’m doing after this post. Truthfully, it’s day by day. This Thursday is the first day that I’ll be living alone…for the first time in my entire life (with the exception of a very brief period in Boston that didn’t work out all that famously). Yep, and I’m 31. When you’ve been with someone as long as we have been together, it’s just the way it’s always been. So I have days where I’m excited to rearrange the furniture, and I have a lot of days where I’m really anxious and worried. I bite my nails, watch bad late night TV, and eat strawberry jam out of the jar. Today’s been one of those days. I’ve discovered days off from work aren’t necessarily great for me–there’s a little too much time to think and be in my own head. It’s important to stay busy. But the more I try and figure out what it is I’m so worried about, the more I realize it’s really just the unknown. It’s not knowing how I’ll feel next week or this summer or who I’ll go to first with exciting news or wake up in the middle of the night with a terrifying dream. So I’m trying really hard to just sit with that. Sit with the unknown and try and not figure it all out this second. Because I can’t. And I’m guessing it’s not ready to be all figured out.
Also, eating alone isn’t my favorite thing in the whole world. I rarely cook big, elaborate meals in the first place but now–and lately, my meals are getting simpler and simpler. And so today, I bring you one of my favorite substantial salads. I usually make this in the summer when the weather gets so hot that you can’t be bothered stepping into the kitchen. It’s great because it’s easy and filling and doesn’t take a whole lot of mental energy–nice for those days when you’re feeling a little strapped in that department.
Today I also leave you with a question and a favor: tell me, what do you like cooking when you’re home alone? Or even better, maybe you live alone: what are your favorite dinners to prepare? Love to hear any suggestions! Because as good as this salad is, it’ll need a little company at some point.
I use tofu in this salad and lightly pan fry it in grapeseed oil. I love the oil because it has a very mild flavor and a high smoke point (unlike olive oil) so it’s perfect to lightly and quickly pan fry something like tofu. If you’d rather bake the tofu or buy it pre-cooked, that’s fine too! While this salad is best eaten right away, I have had it for leftovers the next day and it’s held up just fine. The peanut dressing is dangerous stuff: it’s nice to make a little extra to have laying around to dip veggies or pita in for a late-night snack.
For the Salad:
Make the Dressing: In a small bowl, whisk together all ingredients until well combined.
Make the Salad: Slice tofu into long slices and lay flat in a bowl or shallow dish. Cover with simple marinade of soy sauce and let sit for at least 30 minutes. In a small sauce pan, heat grape seed oil and lightly pan fry tofu for about two minutes on each side. Place on paper towel to cool.
Once cool enough to handle, slice into thin strips. Next, toss the cabbage, bell pepper, carrots, sliced tofu, and green onions into a serving bowl and dress.
The Thanksgiving Table
Today is a different kind of day. Usually posts on this blog come about with the narrative and I manage to squeeze in a recipe. But sometimes when you really stumble upon a winning recipe, it speaks for itself. We'll likely make these beans for Thanksgiving this year. They're one of those simple stunners that you initially think couldn't be much of a thing. And then they come out of the oven all sweet and withered and flecked with herbs. You try one and you realize they are, in fact, a pretty big thing.
I always force myself to wait until after Halloween to start thinking much about holiday pies or, really, future holidays in general. But this year I cheated a bit, tempted heavily by the lure of a warmly-spiced sweet potato pie that I used to make back when I baked pies for a living in the Bay Area (way back when). We seem to always have sweet potatoes around as they're one of Oliver's favorite foods, and when I roast them for his lunch I've been wishing I could turn them into a silky pie instead. So the other day I reserved part of the sweet potatoes for me. For a pie that I've made hundreds of times in the past, this time reimagined with fragrant brown butter, sweetened solely with maple syrup, and baked into a flaky kamut crust. We haven't started talking about the Thanksgiving menu yet this year, but I know one thing for sure: this sweet potato pie will make an appearance.
It has begun. Talk of who is bringing what, where we'll buy the turkey, what kind of pies I'll make, early morning texts concerning brussels sprouts. There's no getting around it: Thanksgiving is on its way. And with it comes the inevitable reflecting back and thinking about what we're thankful for. And about traditions. The funny thing about traditions is that they exist because they've been around for a long time. Year after year after year. But then, one Thanksgiving maybe there's something new at the table.
I didn't expect green beans to bring up such a great discussion on traditions, sharing of poems and how a piece of writing can linger with you. So thank you for that. Your comments pointed out how important people and place are and how food takes the back seat when it comes right down to it. Even if you feel quite warm towards Thanksgiving and are looking forward to next week, reading about recipe suggestions and meal planning online and in magazines can start to feel tiresome right about now. Why? Because I suppose when it all comes down to it, in the big picture it doesn't matter what we all serve anyway. Next year, you likely won't remember one year's vegetable side dish from another. What you'll remember are the markers that dotted the year for you: whom you sat next to at the table, a toast or grace, and the sense of gratitude you felt for something -- large or small.
I got a text from my mom the other day that read: demerara sugar? I responded back with a question mark, not sure what she was referencing. It turns out she was experimenting with a new pie recipe that called for the natural sugar and wasn't sure why she couldn't just use white sugar as that's what she's always done in the past. A few days later we talked on the phone and she mentioned she'd let me take charge of the salad for Thanksgiving this year as long as there was no kale. No kale! And I wanted to do the mashed potatoes? Would they still be made with butter and milk? In short, we're always willing to mix things up in the Gordon household. Whether it's inspiration from a food magazine, friend or coworker, either my mom or one of my sisters will often have an idea for something new to try at the holiday table. But what I've slowly learned is that it can't really be that different: there must be pumpkin pie, the can of cranberry sauce is necessary even though not many people actually eat it, the onion casserole is non-negotiable, the salad can't be too out there, and the potatoes must be made with ample butter and milk. And while I was really scheming up an epic kale salad to make this year, there's a big part of me that gets it, too: if we change things too much we won't recognize the part of the day that comes to mean so much: the pure recognition. We take comfort in traditions because we recognize them -- because they're always there, year after year. And so today I present to you (mom, are you reading?): this year's Gordon family Thanksgiving salad.