On flapjacks and pancakes

I must say, I really like the idea of pancakes (or flapjacks, hotcakes, or griddle cakes, whatever you call them). The ratio of crispy outside to fluffy inside is immensely pleasing and they are the perfect vehicle for all types of syrups and sauces. And forming something into a cake and pan-frying it doesn't need to be limited just to breakfast. Sure, pancakes are classic, but there are also crab cakes, corn cakes, fish cakes, rice cakes -- heck, I even made quinoa cakes recently. Familiar comfort food that becomes something special with the little extra work they take to make well.

So, when I saw the tofu pancakes while browsing through my new copy of Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything Vegetarian, I knew they would be one of the first items I tried. Bob and I are what I call "mostly veggie*" and I'm always looking for new ideas on how to cook tofu. I find I mostly just end up putting it in a stir-fry and whenever I try something new it ends up so blah. The dish usually makes me feel very healthy while I'm eating it, but the leftovers always end up sitting in the refrigerator until they get tossed in the trash (example: tofu and kale stuffed shells).

I made the Thai style tofu pancakes and they were very, very good. Flavored with garlic, ginger, lemongrass and cilantro these little cakes pack a lot of flavor and the crispy-outside-to-creamy-tofu-inside balance was just plain delicious. I had some serious issues in trying to flip the cakes, so the first batch I made last night were quite ugly. But I made two more for lunch today, and, well, they're still pretty ugly but I think that's inevitable. At least they look like pancakes this time. Serve these on top of an Asian slaw and top them with some peanut sauce, and you've got yourself a comforting, fragrant, flavorful meal.


*Bob was a vegetarian for years and is just not a big fan of meat, and while I love me a good steak, I do try to cook with locally raised, grass-fed animals. Since I live in Syracuse and the availability is limited and I am frequently too lazy to get my butt to the market on Saturday morning to purchase said meat, I too, end up "mostly veggie."

Tofu Pancakes, Thai Style with Peanut Sauce (adapted from How to Cook Everything Vegetarian)

As I mentioned, I had a tough time flipping these little guys, they just didn't want to slide onto my spatula and the don't have the handy air bubbles that let you know it's time to flip like regular pancakes do. So, I highly recommend making sure the pan is nice and hot and using a large pan for just a couple of cakes at a time so you have plenty of room for flipping.

1 1/2 pounds firm tofu, patted dry
3 tablespoons peanut butter
1/3 cup soy milk or water (I used water)
1 tablespoon minced garlic
1 tablespoon minced ginger
1 teaspoon minced lemongrass
1/2 cup flour (all-purpose, rice or whole wheat)
Salt or soy sauce
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
2-3 tablespoons peanut, dark sesame or neutral oil

1. Put the tofu, peanut butter, water, garlic, ginger and lemongrass in a food processor and puree until smooth.
2. Transfer to a mixing bowl and sprinkle with the flour, some soy sauce to taste and the cilantro, stir well to combine. It should be the consistency of a thick batter, if not, add more water or flour as necessary. The batter cam be made ahead up to this point, covered and stored in the refrigerator for up to a day.
3. Put the oil in a large nonstick or well-seasoned cast-iron skillet over medium-high heat. Spoon the batter into the pan and spread out to form desired sized cakes, leaving enough room to flip. Cook, undisturbed, until they turn golden and release easily from the pan, about 5 minutes. Flip carefully and cook until done, another 3 minutes. Serve hot.

Peanut Sauce
This sauce is also great for dipping vegetables or tossing with noodles for a cold salad or cabbage, red pepper and carrots for an Asian-style slaw.

3 garlic cloves, peeled
2 shallots, peeled
1 stalk lemongrass, white part only, thinly sliced (optional)
1 teaspoon ground tumeric
1 tablespoon peanut or neutral oil
1 cup coconut milk
1 tablespoon brown sugar
2 tablespoons soy sauce
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
1 teaspoon Sriracha (Thai chile) sauce
1/2 cup peanut butter (crunchy or creamy, your preference)

1. Combine the garlic, shallots, lemongrass and tumeric in a food processor and grind until fairly smooth; you may have to scrape down the sides of the machine quite a few times to get the right consistency.
2. Put the oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Once hot, cook the garlic-shallot mixture for about one minute. Add the remaining ingredients and whisk until smooth. Simmer, stirring occationally, until the sauce thickens, about 15 minutes. Serve immediately or store, covered adn refrigerated for up to a week.

Seattle Food Tour

Seattle and I were never completely in love when I lived there. Sure, I had just about the best group of friends a girl could ask for. They drove me around wherever I needed to go and kept me from getting lonely by always being game for happy hour or a BBQ or a kickball game. But I must admit, the lack of good public transportation irked me and the passive aggressive "Seattle nice" could really grate on my nerves. And don't even get me started on the Utilikits.

But Seattle food, if I ever complained about you, I am sorry. Seattle dining is truly a wonderful experience. Maybe the things that are new to Seattle were being done in New York and Chicago three years ago, but the Pacific Northwest's proximity to and abundance of local ingredients gives it an advantage those cities don't have. That, coupled with the fact that just about every restaurant in town (even the four star ones) have a happy hour food menu that allows you to sample their goods for less than $10 a dish, makes it an amazing food town. Someone asked me what restaurant I missed most, and I suppose I could name some names, but what I really pine for is the variety and abundance of choices available in a city like Seattle.

Some of the amazing food I ate while there, in chronological order:

• The Crispy Tofu Baguette (with avocado) at Baguette Box.
• Mussels and fries at Ama Ama, in West Seattle.
• A rib eye with fresh grated horseradish at Jak's, also in West Seattle. The steak was a little fatty (and yes I know fat means flavor and that's the kind of cut it is) but the sweet, fresh horseradish over the top made up for it all.
• Breakfast at Bakery Nouveau. The twice-baked almond croissant still warm from the oven is one of the best things I've ever had in my life.
• The cured meat platter at Salumi. If you live in Seattle and you haven't been there, go for lunch now. Preferably on a day you have off, when you can relax and drink from the bottle of red wine on the tables. We had to rush out of there, which is not the way lunch should be eaten at Salumi.
• Small plates and cocktails at Licorous, the little sister of Lark. For two dollars more you can have a food pairing with your cocktail (I had the Barbaro with whiskey popovers) , and their white salad of frisee, pears, pecorino, fennel and truffle oil is not something I will forget about any time soon.
• Saturday night Thai-off. There is no shortage of Thai restaurants in Seattle. So Saturday night we decided to stay in and have everyone bring over their favorite dishes from the favorite Thai restaurants for the Pepsi challenge of Pad See Ew. Unfortunately, there was no clear winner, but we were all so happy and full that it didn't much matter.

Fortunately, I have a lot of friends and a job that give me plenty of excuses to return to Seattle. Even though I was only there for for a short time, and Utilikilts not withstanding, I consider myself lucky to have called it home for three years. Hm, maybe I'm a little more in love with Seattle than I'm willing to admit. But with cured meat plates and twice-baked croissants, how can I not be?

Best pizza in Syracuse?

I've had a hard time finding good pizza here in Syracuse. I had the same issue when I lived in Boston. Both cities are so close to New York, both have a large population of people of Italian decent, yet for some reason that secret to a good slice seems to elude restaurateurs. Maybe it really is the legendary city water that keeps NYC home to the best bagels and pizza in the States.Sure, I love the tomato pie at Dominick's, but with it's lack of cheese and the inability to add more toppings, I'm not really sure I'd officially consider it pizza. And last weekend Bob took me to a place he claimed had some of the best pizza in the area, but I certainly couldn't see what he was talking about. Granted, it could very well have been my fault for deciding we should go for the "gourmet" pizza in a traditional, red sauce, Italian joint, but whatever the reason, it wasn't very good. I guess when the definition of gourmet includes canned mushrooms, frozen broccoli and cheddar cheese (?), then you're best bet is to stick to the meat lovers special.Which all brings us to last night. On a whim I decided to whip up some dough before we headed out to the gym. It had just enough time to rise while we were out, then former professional pizza tosser extraordinaire Bob did his thing and flipped out the dough. (I don't think "flipped out" is the technical term, but I'm sticking to it.) It being a Monday night, and us being lazy and not having too many resources in the house, we topped it off with some jarred sauce from a company in Buffalo, some fresh mozzarella and grated parm, and a sprinkling of dried oregano and basil (after lamenting the fact that we had no fresh herbs). We decided to roast some broccoli alongside the pizza instead of on it, and about 25 minutes later we pulled everything from the oven. I took one bite and said, "I think this is the best pizza I've had in Syracuse."

A Fresh Start with Old Favorites

The following is offered in the spirit of sending out tentative little feelers: the proverbially cautious toe testing the waters. Last night I thought I would do the proper snowy day thing. So I began to make myself hot chocolate. While I waited for the milk to warm, I propped myself on my elbows and was suddenly up close and personal with the canister of cocoa powder. I looked to see if anyone could see me, and upon finding that no one could, I furtively annointed my finger with the mix, stuck it in my mouth three-year-old style, and sucked off the grains of cocoa. While it was all dissolving, I wondered whether there ever was such a thing as a chocolate Pixy Sticks, in which bittersweet cocoa replaced the more traditional sour salt.

On that note, welcome to bitter,sweet,sour salt. We're three women interested in recipes, ingredient sourcing, local eating, and appealing to all the senses that food can reach. We hope you are staying in close touch with your inner Pixy Sticks eating child while savoring all the sophisticated notes that a thoroughly adult ration of cacao offers.