I like using the broiler part of my oven to cook things quickly and cleanly. For example, thin pieces of marinated chicken or fish, cheese sandwiches that need melting, fruit, and wow I didn’t realize the list would even be this long. (By the way, Mark Bittman loves his broiler too.) So what am I upside-down grilling these days? Stuff slathered with this miso sauce. We did fish fillets. We did slabs of tofu. I am open to chicken. And sliced eggplant.
The procedure is super simple: mix white (shiro) miso with lemon juice, sugar, black pepper, and a tiny bit of water if you need to thin things out. If you’re cooking something a little wet (like tofu or I don’t know, vegetables?), pat it dry first. Spread miso sauce on whatever. Leave under the broiler for an appropriate amount of time. Done and delicious.
I’ve always had a thing for tofu in all its forms. I kind of forgot about shredded tofu until I came across a small bag of the stuff at a supermarket in Chinatown. The noodly strands are served as a cold appetizer dish (sometimes for free) at casual Chinese restaurants here and there. I don’t remember exactly where I’ve had it, but the most memorable version had rice vinegar, sesame oil, edamame, shredded carrots, and scallions in it. I attempted to recreate it, with mixed results. How do they get such bland tofu so tangy? I feel like I dumped an awful lot of vinegar into mine but couldn’t taste it very well. In any event, it’s a light and delightful thing to have around when the weather is warm and you’d rather not do much cooking. Thinly sliced celery would also add a nice crunch.
I bought some beautiful ripe red tomatoes at my local greenmarket today for $1 a pound and whipped up one of my favorite mom-made dishes. It’s a simple tomato and tofu stew that we ate pretty often when I was a kid. And it tastes even better a day or two after it’s made, so my mom would sometimes prepare enough for two meals at a time. If my memory serves me correctly, this tasted very, very close to the real deal. Pat on the back!
1/2 small onion, sliced
1 clove garlic, thinly sliced
6 oz fried tofu (the spongy kind is good because it soaks up the sauce)
4 or 5 small red tomatoes, each cut into 8 wedges
1 teaspoon corn starch
1 cup water
3 tablespoons soy sauce
1 teaspoon oyster sauce
1 teaspoon fermented black beans
1/2 teaspoon sesame oil
dash of white pepper
scallions (cut into 1-inch segments) and/or cilantro
Heat a bit of canola oil in a wok or large, deep pan over medium-high heat. Add onions and garlic, and stir fry until translucent but not browned. Add about 2/3 of the tomatoes, and tofu.
In a small bowl, combine cornstarch with water. Add soy sauce, oyster sauce, black beans, sesame oil, and pepper. Pour sauce into pan and simmer on medium-low heat, letting sauce thicken up a bit. Add remaining tomatoes, scallions, and cilantro. Serve with rice.
I really like the way bitter greens taste with oyster sauce. The steamed greens you order at sit-down Chinese restaurants usually come lightly doused with this slightly glossy viscous brown condiment and nothing more.
I threw leftover broccoli rabe from pasta night together with leftover tofu from my zha jiang mian dinner into a hot pan with garlic, ginger, oyster sauce, and sesame oil to make a quick and easy single-serving dish to go with some rice. That dark blob on top is Yank Sing chili sauce, which also happens to be my favorite condiment for dumplings.
I’ve been having about one wedding-related nightmare each week. In the most recent one, I was at a Chinese restaurant ordering lunch with my friend Jeanice. After mulling over my options, I decided to get a basket of xiao long bao (soup dumplings). When the gruff, middle-aged manager-cum-waiter came to take our order, I asked him if he also had zha jiang mian (炸酱面). As he walked back to the kitchen to check, Jeanice asked me if my flowers were ready. I dashed out of the restaurant to arrange for flower arrangements, two days before the big day, leaving the possibility of zha jiang mian for lunch behind.
A few days later, I decided this was inspiration enough to make zha jiang mian, possibly the only Chinese dish I’ve come anywhere close to “mastering” (yes, it’s that easy). You can also find versions of zha jiang mian at Korean restaurants (jajangmyeon) and Japanese restaurants. The noodles should be wheat noodles (made from wheat flour), and the sauce should be pretty salty thanks to all the fermented bean products that go into it. Zha jiang mian is usually served with crunchy vegetables on top, typically bean sprouts, cucumbers, and shredded carrots. I like to cook diced carrots in the sauce (what my mom does) and top it with matchstick-sized strips of cucumbers and blanched bean sprouts. It’s a nice contrast of hot and cold, salty and cucumber-y, and soft and crunchy.
vegetable oil
1/2 medium yellow onion, chopped
1 medium carrot, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 pound ground pork
1 teaspoon corn starch
1 tablespoon light soy sauce
3 ounces pressed five-spice tofu (looks like this)
1 tablespoon broad bean paste
1 tablespoon hot broad bean paste (or substitute with more regular broad bean paste)
1 tablespoon sweet bean sauce (or hoisin sauce)
3/4 cup water
sesame oil
thick wheat noodles, cooked according to package directions
Heat vegetable oil in a large pan or wok over medium heat. Add onion and carrot. Cook until onion is translucent.
Combine pork with corn starch, garlic, and soy sauce. Add to pan and cook until pork is browned. Add tofu, bean paste, and bean sauce. Toss to coat everything evenly. Add water and bring sauce to a simmer. Turn heat to low and continue to simmer until sauce has thickened. Add a tiny bit of sesame oil at the end. Serve over noodles with blanched bean sprouts and julienne cucumbers.
