Recently on the evening news, tofu suffered cruel public defamation as the network anchor referred to the humble white substance as "the most disrespected food" in America. As the official self-appointed public defender for this mild-mannered protein, I feel obliged to cross-examine this unfair accusation.
First, let's be reasonable. Just because tofu may look like some pathetic little primal mass is not necessarily a reason to avoid ingesting it. After all, many of the same people who are turned off by its presentation would probably pay twenty-five dollars to eat something that looks like-a lobster.
It's true. Even some avid card-carrying lobster connoisseurs confide that it takes a certain mastery over denial to attack one of these armored creatures with a nutcracker. Especially after seeing it in the act of being alive-and-creepy in the tank as you enter the restaurant. Left to our own instincts, it might never occur to the average grown human to tie on a bib and consume a hideous crustacean limb by limb, in an obscenely messy ritual of dipping its innards in drawn butter. But due to American marketing and the decent taste of drawn butter, this unattractive scavenger has become the most popular entrée in seafood restaurants that specialize in lobster.
Another equally vivid example is clams, but let's not get started on them.
I call your attention to Exhibit A: a package of soft-style tofu. Please note (tofu veterans, don't try to reason with me on this): If this is your first tofu experience, do not approach the soft variety. Do not even be in the room when someone opens the package. Most of all, avoid looking at it directly when you walk by the organic food-from-Mars refrigerator section of your grocery store. This product was never actually meant to be eaten, seen, nor heard. Soft tofu is a culinary accident having an identity crisis, a structurally-disadvantaged substance that falls apart under any circumstances-like when you even think about opening the refrigerator door.
This is as good a moment as any to consider: What exactly is tofu, anyway?
According to my random dictionary: "see 'bean curd.'" See? That wasn't so bad. Except maybe for the "curd" part. And the "bean curd" definition: "A creamy white cake made from soybean flour, used in Oriental cooking." See? That wasn't so bad. Except maybe for the "creamy" part. After all, when we think meat substitute, we're not looking for creamy (Exhibit A.) We want meaty.
At this time, I call your attention to Exhibit B: a rectangular cake of firm tofu. At this time, I wish to remind the carnivorous members of the jury that firm tofu is not even related to the soft variety, so you can just wipe that other stuff off the record.
As you can see, the firm variety has structure. Character. Morals. It would never stoop to falling apart or even quivering. Firm tofu has a strong, unshakeable self-concept, so it would never pretend to be something like ham or steak. It has been quite successful, however, at masquerading as chicken, turkey, burgers, hot dogs, and even bacon. And on a good day it can even pull off a decent egg salad disguise. In fact-so renowned is the versatility of the coy tofu that in the biodynamic-organic-composting-recyclable biodegradable-vegetarian community of Boulder, Colorado, the Thanksgiving turkey has been referred to as mock-tofu. Some consumers have been vocal about their resentment of these make-believe products, such as tofu ice cream and let's-pretend cheesecake. But perhaps we can all share in the victory of the thousands of dairy-intolerants-such as myself-who finally have something to eat while their friends are knee-deep in Chunky Monkey.
And here's some good news for the folks who still patronize the original food groups and want to lighten up on their intake of Big Macs. You'll be surprised at how satisfied you feel after consuming. . . um, maybe a pound and a half of firm tofu. Especially if you barbecue it on a grill with some A-1 (and if necessary during the weaning phase, a few strips of sirloin.) What have you got to lose, except maybe the respect of some of your closest friends. If that is the issue, please be assured that 1) there are thousands of closet tofu consumers who lead happy and successful lives. Some of them meet together in support groups on Monday nights right in your neighborhood, where even the most macho-weight-lifting-truck-driving-corporate tycoon-types can speak freely about their rice cake passions and sodium-free fantasies, while sharing hors-d'oeuvres of tofu dogs-in-a-blanket; (2) you can always find some new friends.
And now, the for most FAQ. . . What about the taste? Okay, does the taste of iceberg lettuce make you fantasize about being locked in the walk-in with the greens? Naaah. Everybody knows that lettuce is just an excuse for. . . Newman's Own __________(your favorite flavor.) Tofu also absorbs the flavor of whatever you prepare it with-like olive oil. Lemon. Soy sauce. Chocolate chips. (Never mind, you're not required to try the dessert versions-that's extra credit.)
ALL WE ARE SAYING IS GIVE TOFU A CHANCE. See? That wasn't so bad. Except maybe for the tofu part.
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In conclusion, I thank the Internet readers for taking time out of their meaningful quest for the ultimate surfing destination to relax in the low-cholesterol environment of Museweek. I trust that I have successfully demonstrated the innocence of tofu beyond any reasonable doubt, since this well-meaning protein would never intentionally offend a living soul. I refer of course to the firm variety.
If any of my cyber-siblings feel that I have awakened you to an unusual food that you would normally never even pronounce--so that now you feel tempted to feed some to your supervisor--please keep in mind that I am available for hire to defend other things too, should the need arise. Like lobsters.
by Patricia Jacobs
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