To say that something is “a la Mexicana” means it is prepared “Mexican- style,” which typically means that the dish has tomato, serrano pepper, and onion, all core ingredients in Mexican cooking—also, fittingly, representing the red, green, and white colors of the Mexican flag.
When I moved out of my parents’ home at 23 years old, one thing I knew I would miss deeply were mornings with my dad. We both are morning people, so it would often just be us two in the kitchen. We sipped on coffee, and he prepared breakfast as we shared the latest chisme (gossip). One of those typical weekday breakfasts was his huevos a la Mexicana, always prepared with lots of intention and love.
I was never able to fill the void left by losing those mornings with my dad, but I did set out to fill the void of his huevos a la Mexicana. Tofu makes an exceptional substitute for scrambled eggs, and when prepared “a la Mexicana,” it transforms into the most flavorful scramble I’ve ever had. The addition of black salt (also known as kala namak) is optional but highly recommended to add an egglike flavor. Only the slightest bit is needed as it has a powerful taste and smell.
You mean to tell me that you’re going to make comically, cartoonishly, large meatballs and not put one on a plate of spaghetti?
Of all the recipes in this book, this savory dish is the one I make the most often, not just because it’s delicious, but because it connects me to my past. Throughout childhood, my grandma would make me various versions of this soup, and as an adult, it brings me so much comfort to make it and share it with others. Expect a vegan, Mexican-inspired twist on a Chicken and Rice Soup with tofu swapped in for the chicken and with the addition of fresh lemon juice and cilantro. So delicious!
The easiest way to cook tofu is to quickly blanch it, then season with salt and sesame oil and fold in a handful of finely chopped scallions or fresh herbs. This preparation, called liangban, is minimal and yet divinely tasty. My favorite version of this dish is with toon (xiangchun), a savory, onion-garlicky leaf common in southern China, and after some tinkering, I found that the combination of basil and garlic has a similar aroma that’s just as intoxicatingly fragrant, flecking the creamy tofu cubes like a pesto. I probably make this three or four times a week, it’s that good.
Serves 4
This earthy, tangy main dish shares a sauce similar to my Pomegranate Sriracha Shrimp, but the tofu, soy sauce, and vegetables turn it into something distinctively delicious. Tofu is typically deep-fried for dishes like this one, but panfrying is a healthier way to inject richness and character. For texture, complexity, and color, I add mushroom and mild-tasting chiles. Anaheims are my go-to but during the warmer months when chiles are in season, I love to use varieties such as Hatch and Corno di Toro. In a major pinch, half a large bell pepper will do.
When I think of Vietnamese food, it’s fresh herbs that spring to mind. The coriander (cilantro) in this dish is essential, but ideally you should get all three herbs – they’re well worth it. Life is full of choices, and so is this recipe. For instance, you can add steamed broccoli or pak choi (bok choi), or have it with noodles instead of rice.
Ingredients
Fresh, hot, sour, salty, and sweet -- Thai cuisine, and this salad, hits every pleasure point. The dressing alone is like money in the bank, it improves nearly anything it touches.