Don’t get me wrong, I adore tofu. Really, I do. I like it in stir-frys. I like it crispy and pan-fried in olive oil. I like it instead of ricotta in my lasagna recipe. And I like it - um, wait. Those are all of the things I ever do with tofu. For someone who was vegan for over a year, my lack of tofumagination is kind of depressing. So today, I did something I sort of rarely do for a regular weeknight dinner - I actually sought out a recipe! I landed on Katie and Leeanne Chin’s Braised Stuffed Tofu, which looked perfect except for the fact that I A) didn’t have Sichuan cabbage, mushrooms, cornstarch, bok choy, or oyster sauce and B) was totally skeptical of the proposition that I could panfry a delicate stuffing-filled tofu square on both sides without it sticking to the pan, imploding into a goopy mess, or setting off my fire alarm (or all of the above). So I improvised. 

Stuffed tofu squares:

• 1 block firm tofu
• 2 frozen veggie burgers of your choice (or half a baked potato and some curry powder, or whatever you think will be yummy)
• 1/4 cup frozen peas
• 1/4 cup frozen spinach
• about 4 tbsp olive oil
• about 4 tbsp soy sauce, tamari or namashoyu

1. Cut the tofu into twelve equal-sized squares and dry them as best you can with a cloth (don’t use paper towels, you’ll go through a whole roll).
2. Carefully scoop out a small spoonful of tofu from the middle of each square - don’t scoop all the way through to the other side, and leave enough of a border that the squares remain sturdy. Douse the empty squares with soy sauce.
3. Cook the veggie burgers, frozen vegetables and scooped-out tofu innards in a saucepan until cooked through. Fill each tofu square with a spoonful of the mixture.
4. Heat the olive oil in a large wok or skillet. Place the squares in the wok and cook until at least the bottoms are panfried. If you’re brave, try flipping them. If you’re me, cover with a lid to steam the tops.

Oven fries:

• 1 large russet potato
• about 4 tbsp olive oil
• salt, pepper, garlic powder and cayenne
• KETCHUP

1. Wash the potato and slice it up into equal-sized slivers. Toss them in a bowl with salt, pepper, garlic powder and cayenne (as much as you’re into). Place fries in a single layer on a foil-lined baking sheet or dish and bake at 400 degrees for about an hour, depending on how crispy you like them.
2. Serve with SO MUCH KETCHUP. MORE. MORE THAN THAT.

Even though the weather outside is still persistently not autumnal enough, I’m forging ahead anyway with my knitted wool tights and hot ginger tea and legwarmers and lace-up boots and new Neon Indian album and oversized sweaters and hearty, heavy one-pot meals that are best eaten curled up on the sofa in aforementioned legwarmers.

Back-to-school season changes Sundays, giving them a bittersweetness that everyone remembers from being small and clinging desperately to each of those last weekend hours that belong solely, wholly to you. We have Sunday rituals that consist of the fleamarket and grocery shopping, brunch and a long walk and a lot of sitting around reading and talking about how sometime, maybe, later, some laundry ought to get done. I felt like cooking something that would take a long time but not much effort, and since our new oven doesn’t get installed until tomorrow, it had to be be a stovetop project. I wanted a meat dish that would end up braised and fork-tender, falling apart at each bite. This chicken is fantastic, and I’m sure it’ll be even better for lunch tomorrow. The best kind of time invested on a Sunday - the kind that makes the following Monday substantially better in return.

Stovetop slow-cooked barbecue chicken:

• 2 pounds (give or take) boneless, skinless chicken breasts
• 12 oz beer (Trader Joe’s Simpler Times, here)
• 18 oz barbecue sauce, homemade or your favorite (This was Trader Joe’s Kansas City Style, which is sweet & smoky and has a super-rich, smooth texture that the dish relies on.)
• 1 red onion
• black pepper, garlic powder and cayenne to taste

1. Sear the chicken breasts in an empty nonstick stock pot or Dutch oven. 
2. Add the barbecue sauce and beer.
3. Slice the onion thinly and add it raw to the pot, along with the spices. 
4. Bring to a boil, then cover and simmer for at least two to four hours. Stir often enough to keep the pot’s contents from starting to stick to the bottom, using a spatula or fork to help the shredding process along. 
5. Serve on sandwiches, or with baked potatoes, or with corn on the cob. We had ours with big salads and homemade chips.

Cubby’s is a barbecue place in Hackensack, NJ known mostly for its ginormous portions and for the fact that its owner, Bobby Egan, is the author of Eating With The Enemy and an unlikely North Korean diplomat. 

A few weekends ago (July fourth, to be exact), I woke up at 7 a.m. and decided I wanted to go to Stacks for breakfast. Most memorable as of late for my belgian-waffle-with-ice-cream-and-bacon breakfast at an equally ridiculous hour, Stacks is perhaps most valuable for its unwavering willingness to make you anything you want, anytime. 

On the menu are an array of pancake wraps, quaintly named after Hoboken streets, with fillings like scrambled eggs, home fries, bacon and salsa (the Hudson) or egg whites, grilled turkey, swiss and tomato (the Observer). There’s also a list of double-decker deli sandwiches, available all day long. I never order off the menu. But, uncharacteristically, I decided that what I really, really wanted was a tuna melt, wrapped in a pancake, with melted cheddar. So that’s what I ordered. I asked for “a side salad” instead of the fries.

What I got was a giant, twelve-inch pancake, filled with tuna salad and unmelted American cheese, with butter, syrup and a few leaves of iceberg lettuce on the side. I was hardly about to be the girl who sent back a pancake tuna wrap, so with a few quick adjustments, I tailored the meal of my dreams.

I did away with the cheese, syrup, and butter, sliced up the lettuce with my butter knife, and added some of my boyfriend’s fries (as usual, he got the egg white veggie omelette). Please believe me when I tell you this was one of the most spot-hitting and memorable meals I’ve had in recent months.

It was supposed to be date night last night, but after getting off to a late start after work, that quickly turned into an hour together at the gym, massive indecisiveness about what we wanted to eat, then me watching boyfriend eat two blue cheese wedges after realizing it was too late to be hungry. We made up for it today, though, starting with a two-scoop ice cream cone at Ben & Jerry’s: 1 scoop Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, 1 scoop Late Night Snack, in a chocolate-dipped sugar cone with sprinkles. (Many tasting spoons were sacrificed on Chocolate Therapy, Coconut Seven Layer Bar, What a Cluster [miraculously too peanut buttery even for me!] and the impressive new Bonarroo Buzz.)

Then we headed to a Hoboken sports bar we’d been wanting to check out, mostly because of a long-ignored wings craving. These were worth the wait: half buffalo and half root beer BBQ, with really excellent blue cheese. The root beer was too sweet for me; boyfriend ate all but one of them.

After debating main course choices for literally about half an hour, he settled on a classic burger (medium, no cheese, ew, BORING) with onion rings and I got the 1Republik special: sherry roquefort fondue, ale-battered thick-cut bacon, caramelized onions and mushrooms.

Their handcut fries are absolutely fantastic: salty and golden on the outside, fluffy and creamy on the inside, like the very best of fast-food french fries. The combination of the roquefort fondue and the caramelized onions and mushrooms was superb. It was an amazing burger. So, I did something I never, ever do at restaurants. 

I sent it back. I’d asked for medium rare, like actually, really, on the pink side of medium rare. I know it’s bad to order burgers that way. I know I’m being a jerk. I don’t care. I don’t see the point of eating them gray and flaccid all the way through, as this one was when it arrived.

Ten minutes and one apologetic waitress later, I had my burger just the way I wanted it. Having helped myself to the onion rings while I was waiting, I ditched the top bun, cut the burger in half, and made a giant double-stacked burger sandwich. Yum.