After five days in the Midwest—flying to Chicago, then driving to South Bend, then back to Chicago, consuming brats, burgers, duck prosciutto, Lou Malnati’s deep dish, and so much beer—I’m ready to do Meatless Mondays, Vegan Before 6, and any other type of cleanse you want to throw my way.
(Except for the GOOP one. Did it once, ended very badly with a bowl of mac, cheese, and hot dogs.)
But I’ll just start by making a big batch of my crispy baked tofu to throw into some veggie-centric dishes over the next few weeks.
What, are you shocked? Really, truly, I love tofu. Never had a problem with the texture, never balked at its so-called blandness at all—in fact, I downright enjoy the way tofu soaks up flavors like a sponge. (And looks like a sponge to boot.)
I’m not going to try and convert the haters here. Trust me, I’ve tried to force-feed it to my husband one too many times to learn that tofu, like beets, is a taste that you come to on your own terms.
But for my fellow tofu lovers who celebrate the soy but have trouble getting a beautiful golden-brown crust on your pan- or wok-fried slabs, this one’s for you.
My time-tested crispy baked tofu recipe ensures a crunchy exterior on your cubes without leaving the tasty bits stuck to the bottom of a hot pan.
Yes, there are a few preliminary steps to follow, but they can be done in bulk and you’ll be rewarded with trays of well-browned, nutty tofu at your disposal.
Seriously, do more than one block of tofu at once using the method below and freeze your efforts for instant gratification later.
And as for bland? With a quick sweet-salty marinade that soaks into every cubic inch of the pressed pieces, there is no way anyone could describe this crispy baked tofu as such.
I’m not saying it’s going to change anyone’s minds, but for those of use who are pro tofu, this is the way to go. Refrigerate leftover tofu for up to 1 week.
Refrigerate leftover tofu for up to 1 week.