GOING COLD TOFU

Sure, you think you won’t like it, but get ready to swoon

Tofu is a mildly polarizing food. It doesn’t come close to the polarizing palate bomb that cilantro is, and its detractors usually cite lack of flavour and texture as the hurdle.

One of the traps that people fall into is thinking it’s a substitute for something else. It will never resemble cheese — though fermented tofu preparations come close — or meat.

To really enjoy it, you have to learn to explore what it has to offer as tofu. If you’re using it in place of cream cheese for example, it won’t have the same taste or texture as cream cheese. It doesn’t mean that tofu has failed. It’s you who has to shift your expectations.

I’m not a snooty tofu purist. I’ve used it in desserts, made falafels and hummus with it, ground it up with chicken and pesto for burgers, and stuffed fried tofu puffs with spinach and ricotta and baked them in tomato sauce.

I’ve been fortunate to eat exquisite tofu in Kyoto, Japan, where the creation, cooking and enjoyment of tofu is refined and cherished. Swooning with pleasure accurately describes my experience of Kyoto tofu with textures ranging from what I imagine

it would be like to eat clouds, to blocks simmered in a kombu broth that changed the texture by the second. There was silky tofu skin and tofu with the texture of solid cream. All this brings me to tofu in perhaps its most elegant form. Many tofu dishes in Kyoto were served chilled.

Adorned with savory flavours and punctuated with meat, fish and vegetables, it was one of the best ways to experience it.

The tofu becomes a soft and delicious contrast and carrier for the seasonings. Chilled tofu has a following in Asia and it’s greatly appreciated in the summer. Easy to make, inexpensive and doesn’t need to be cooked.

I’m showing remarkable restraint with these tofu dishes because the canvas of tofu just begs to have all sorts of yummy stuff applied to it.