Category: People

Last night I made fried tofu for the Tuesday Night Ballers–the first time I’ve had it in many years, and the first time I’ve made it myself. They liked it, or pretended to, and I was glad it turned out the way I remembered it. The smell of making it was a pretty powerful memory trigger.

I ate bacon only rarely until I was in my teens; instead, we always had fried tofu as our bacon substitute, whether on salads, in sandwiches or solo for breakfast. It works very well in each of those roles, but I have no idea what made my parents decide that it was a bacon substitute, because it tastes nothing like bacon (in fact, it tastes like nothing else of which I know). They’re both flat and fried, though, I guess.

Here’s the recipe. I’m calling it this because my mom’s maiden name is Dixon, and that side of the family comprises the only other people I know who make it.

Dixon Family Fried Tofu

  • Some Tamari Sauce (similar to soy sauce, but different; look in Asian groceries or health food stores)
  • Some Brewer’s Yeast (not regular yeast; check the same health food stores)
  • A Hunk of Firm Tofu
  • Maybe Some Vegetable Oil

Get out three plates. Cover one with a puddle of tamari and another with a layer of brewer’s yeast. Drain the tofu and place the hunk on the third plate.

Cut slices of the tofu widthwise, as if it were a loaf of bread. Be gentle but firm, so the tofu doesn’t disintegrate, and try to get each slice a little less than a quarter of an inch thick. You probably have enough tamari and yeast to fry the whole block if you want, so cut off as many slices as you plan on eating; two or three is a good for a sandwich or a breakfast side, and one or two is enough to crumble over an individual salad.

Heat up a skillet or a frying pan. You can heat a little of that vegetable oil in there too, if you want–no more than a teaspoon. You can fry without the oil, but it does distribute the heat better than the tamari, so you’re less likely to wind up with little black spots.

Lay each slice flat in the tamari; turn it over several times so it’s covered well, but you don’t have to marinade it. You just want it wet.

Lay those slices in the brewer’s yeast, like you’re breading them (because you are). Do this quickly but well, because the yeast will absorb the sauce and fall off the tofu in clumps if you wait around.

Lay carefully in the skillet and fry until browned. Flip several times to avoid scorching, especially if you’re not using oil, but be careful to avoid the aforementioned clumping problem.

You’ll probably have to add more brewer’s yeast, because it tends to soak up drops of tamari and solidify so it won’t stick to the tofu. Be liberal with both sauce and yeast–they’re providing the flavor. One hunk of tofu serves three to four.

I’ve been staying mum about it, because I didn’t want to jinx it like last time, but I have now actually won a round of BlogNomic. I’m quite puffy with pride, although I couldn’t have done it alone.

If you’re at all interested in malleable gaming, I think you should join BlogNomic now–I’m going to put a lot of effort into making this round fun. All you have to do is post a comment on one of the more recent entries, stating your name, your wish and your email address, and we’ll get right to you.

My uncle John provides justification for the backwards locomotion I witnessed yesterday. It’s an interesting site, but I haven’t yet found where they talk about the dangers of, you know, not being able to see where you’re going.

After two years, Sean is about to come back to the US from his time teaching music as a Jesuit volunteer in a Nicaraguan village. I’ve been reading his journal continuously for about three years now; he’s a funny and intimate writer, and I’ve tried to incorporate some of his observational style into my own voice.

I’ve known one (other) Jesuit volunteer teacher in real life, and I feel like I know Sean, in a way. Neither has exactly been entirely gung-ho about the program, but if my own personal sample is any indication, it attracts some pretty incredible people. I wonder if I could do what they did, and if I would. Or will.

A trombonist in a brass-punk band called the Golden Showers

“One day I won’t put up with you. It’ll just be over. Where will you sleep?”

“You’ll always have to put up with me. I’ll be throwing things at you in the old folk’s home, knocking big wads of oily tinfoil right off your head. If you haven’t merged with the network by then in dork ecstasy.”

In my increasingly desperate search for materiél to scan between bouts of whanging my head against cryptic SQL procedures, I have finally committed myself to reading that old sawhorse of Sumana’s: Ftrain, residence of Paul Ford’s multiple personas and weird-category-structure Mecca. I mean, I’ve read it before, but as of today I’m reading larger chunks and really trying to grok its navigation. And it’s good. “Scott Rahin’s” columns are a quick favorite; they remind me of the amiable hate-fest that is a fact of life between certain members of the Nightlight Press Community and myself.

Been using that ol’ blockquote a lot here lately.

I’m sitting here at work, killing time until 6:00, when most people will have gone home and I can actually try running my queries because the database won’t be so busy. The Interweb no longer entertains me, and I can’t think of anything interesting to write. I feel dried out and cold. It’s been a long day.

It will be nice to have this done, though (if it works), and not have it hanging over my head. Plus there’s a possibility of seeing Der Flöra tonight, and who knows what will happen over the weekend? There are a lot of people whose company I enjoy in Louisville right now; it’s June, and it’s about time I stopped getting enough sleep.

The Tuesday Night Ballers reached second level tonight, a momentous occasion and probably the most significant hurdle in a long-term campaign. I haven’t been easy on them, either. They can now stand up to attacks from lone, unarmed opponents without the threat of instant death; this opens up all kinds of possibilities, and I’m looking forward to seeing how the whole thing develops.

If you haven’t figured out what Tuesday Night Basketball is by now, you probably never will. If you have, let’s face it, you’re just as guilty as any of us.