Kale Miso Soup

There's a Buddhist monastery near my parents' house. It is, technically, all-you-can-eat. Now I'm not ashamed to say I like a good buffet. In the NYC area, the best is no doubt East Buffet in Flushing, a lavish banquet hall that has every permutation of Chinese (and some Japanese) food, plus the crown jewels of any Chinese buffet: lobster and Peking Duck.

The United Nations used to  rotate international lunch buffets in the Delegates' Dining Room, but I've heard they've since downscaled. I overdosed on rice krispie treats at Goofy's Kitchen in DisneyWorld and I haven't touched a krispie since.

But a Buddhist buffet. Sure you can gorge yourself on a cruise or in Vegas, but in an ascetic monastery that practices unleashing yourself from earthly desires? It just doesn't seem right.

But if there were a Buddhist buffet where you could eat with abandon, this is the type of thing you'd eat. I made this because I was sick and I wanted something nourishing and alive. Like, fermented alive. That's where the miso came from.

But that wasn't enough to be a meal so I boosted it with more goodness: seaweed, soft tofu, edamame, cauliflower, broccoli, kale, and whole cloves of garlic. The recipe is too simple and I feel like writing it out is condescending. It's just a pot generously filled with good things, boiled until cooked. It's lavish, but in a simple sort of way.

Squash Blossoms Stuffed with Souffléd Tofu

The other night, I felt conned into a dish. It was the type of service where everything is "amazing". Every order is a "wonderful choice." Words stop meaning anything.

I prefer the truth and I think that's always the best if you want the customer leaving happy. (The salesperson who tells the woman that a skirt looks fabulous when in fact it hits her in all the wrong spots is doing no one any favors.)

So anyway, the dish. It was squash stems. I'm usually into root-to-bud eating. I eat broccoli stalks and kabocha skin and celery leaves. But these stems were stringy and quite tough. And not tough in a hardy green sort of way (I dare to eat kale even when it's not massaged). It was just more a chew toy than actual sustenance.

So the next day I found these squash blossoms at the farmer's market. Exceptionally edible, always tender, perfect capsules for some other delicious filling. This time, I filled them with seasoned tofu, aerated and firmed by whipped egg whites. I am contemplating filling the blossoms with something heartier, like a meat mixture. Or maybe a tautological thing, a zucchini mousse with the stem very very finely chopped so you can actually eat it.

RECIPE: In a blender, whiz up egg whites from 3 eggs for 2 minutes. Add a package of lite tofu, salt, and whip until mixed and you are content with the saltiness. I like the mild taste of tofu, but you could do it up maybe with liquid aminos to get more of a cheese taste. Stuff into cleaned zucchini blossoms. Add 1/4 cup of water to a large wok and bring to a simmer. Add blossoms and steam, covered, for about 7 minutes, until the tofu mixture puffs up and solidifies. Grind pepper to your liking.

Buffalo Kale Salad

Is it just me, but did the rise of kale come really quickly? Not too long ago, I thought of kale as a difficult vegetable, an ornamental and sturdy plant that had to be stewed for hours. And who wants to eat gray-green sulfurous greens? Now of course, people eat kale not only on its own, but also as crackers, salads, pesto. Kale is the "green" in "green juice", the counterweight to the equally beloved bacon.

And now one of the most intimidating features of kale -- the stiff, structured ruffles -- are now a selling point.

I like to make a creamy sauce that catches inside all the nooks and crannies. Tofu adds body and umami, without the negating effect cream tends to add to salad. Recently at Thistle Hill Tavern, I had buffalo cauliflower and kale salad with slaw dressing. This is my middle ground.

RECIPE: Wash and dice kale into bite-size pieces. Melt 2 1/2 tablespoons of butter and add to blender. Add one block of tofu, 2 teaspoons of Frank's hot sauce, and a pinch of salt. Blend into dressing mix with kale salad.