Monday, February 15, 2010

"Drink Me!" Artemesia Cocktail Hour: Ginger Twist


Almost immediately after letting friends know that I had posted my new Grapefruit Margarita recipe, a desperate plea came in from my friend Ginger: "For the love of God, Woman! The future of humanity depends on your designing a new cocktail using the Artemesia Ginger Liqueur - Stat!" At least I think that's how she put it... perhaps the exact wording escapes me.....

Well, with a challenge like that before me, I certainly had no choice - none whatsoever - as to what I'd be doing next. I fell asleep that night thinking about what tastes great with ginger; immediately came the thought - ginger and lemon! And I researched proportions, and sampled and tinkered, and served the results to family and friends. Tirelessly, we all gave it up for the good of humanity. Last night, at last, came the perfection I sought. And here, before you, the results. The Meyer lemon* juice, a common varietal in California backyards, brings a refreshing lemon lift, tempered by its characteristic sweet notes, while the ginger liqueur gives a pleasing, long finish with warmth that you feel all the way down.


Artemesia Ginger Twist

Makes two cocktails

2 1/2 ounces Artemesia Ginger Liqueur
1 1/2 ounces Artemesia Limoncello
1 ounce vodka
1 ounce Meyer Lemon Juice*


Pour all ingredients into a cocktail shaker, add ice, and shake until it's really cold; I like to count to about "20 Mississippi." Pour, garnish with an optional lemon twist, and enjoy!


*The Meyer lemon is a sweet, thin-skinned California native. Said to be a cross between a tangerine and a lemon, it grows beautifully and prolifically in many a backyard. They are not generally available commercially, and seldom outside of California. Should you not have access, you can ask a California neighbor to share, or a friend to mail some to you. If you need to substitute with another varietal, you may need to adjust the quantity, or add a little sweetener.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

"Drink Me!" Artemesia Cocktail: Grapefruit Margarita


I admit it; I'm obsessed. At this very moment I have Limoncello, Rosemary Meyer Limoncello, Kumquat, Buddha's Hand Citron, Blood Orange, Ginger, Bergamot Citron, and Oro Blanco Grapefruit liqueurs infusing in my basement. I also have finished batches of Walnut liqueurs; Nocino and Orahovica (the Vin de Noix is gone) Chocolate, more Buddha's Hand Citron, and "Brad and Darryl's" Grapefruit liqueurs. I call my little obsession "Artemesia;" I guess giving it a name says something, eh? I try to grow as much of the fruit as possible, which is challenging, as our entire lot, including the 1,200 square feet occupied by our house, is about 1/32nd of an acre. So far, I have crammed in a lime tree (the Bearss variety grows really well here in Berkeley, and yes, that really is how you spell it) a Buddha's Hand Citron (because you just can't buy them organic) and newly planted Fuyu Persimmon, Blenheim Apricot, Meiwa Kumquat, and Feminello Santa Teresa Lemon trees (because the Feminello Santa Teresa is the rare sub-cultivar grown in Sorrento and on the Amalfi Coast for Limoncello.)

Since my obsession far outstrips my available land, last year I started harvesting from what I have dubbed "NIMBY" fruit trees; "Not In My Back Yard." Nina lets me gather her Meyer Lemons, Bob lets me pick his mystery lemons (Eureka or Lisbon? Don't know...) neighbors let me gather green walnuts from a street tree growing in a secret cul de sac, and Brad and Darryl invited me to pick their grapefruits - another unknown varietal. They have a big old tree, with lots of fruit...perhaps I did get a little carried away...

Anyway, it's all quite delicious on its own, but sometimes a gal wants a cocktail, and I love a good Margarita. A Margarita is typically made from tequila, fresh lime juice, and triple sec, in a myriad of proportional possibilities; 2:2:1, 3:2:1, 1:1:1... Triple Sec is a liqueur flavored with three different types of oranges; I have yet to find one that I really like - mostly they taste kind of, well - cheap. Cointreau, Grand Marnier or Citronge all make decent substitutes. After experimenting, ahem, quite a bit, I decided that I like 3:2:1, i.e. 3 parts tequila, two parts fresh lime juice, 1 part orange liqueur.

Of course, I got to thinking.... why orange? Why not some other citrus? Obviously, I have a number of fine options available to me. Grapefruit "Brad and Darryl" immediately came to mind; assertive, clean - and completely different from lime. So I decided to start there, and, well, yum! (Otherwise, you wouldn't be hearing about it, right? I will only share recipes which are worthy of the ages here in this blog. Should I waste your precious time describing disappointing results from a new recipe? I think not!) So get out your cocktail shakers, and let's get this party started!


Artemesia Grapefruit Margarita

Makes 1 big or 2 smallish drinks; make each pour a generous one if you want bigger drinks

3 ounces Tequila (Your choice)
2 ounces fresh-squeezed lime juice
1 ounce Grapefruit "Brad and Darryl" liqueur
1/2 tsp or so agave nectar or sugar, to taste

Squeeze your limes; you will need from 1-4 of them, depending on how juicy they are. Put a little kosher salt on a plate. Measure everything and pour the ingredients into your cocktail shaker. Add a little additional sweetener, stir it up and taste it; adjust as needed. Using any leftover lime juice, smear some lightly on the outside of the rim of your chosen glass(es)- I use Martini glasses - and roll the outer rim in the salt. Add a few ice cubes to the cocktail shaker, put on the lid, and shake away until it feels really cold; I usually count to "20 Mississippi." While you're shaking, make sure to hold the lids on! Now take off the cap and pour out every delicious drop.

Cheers!

p.s. If you would like some Grapefruit "Brad and Darryl," drop me a line!

Monday, February 1, 2010

"Berkleyer Than Thou" Cookies

One day when Johanna was in preschool, we were hanging out at our neighborhood "tot lot" in Berkeley with her friend Faith, Faith's little sister Grace, and their Dad, Patrick. In the custom of such play-dates, Patrick and I sat on the park bench, holding an adult conversation interspersed with conflict resolution breaks, and Patrick told me a memorable story about a similar afternoon he had spent in a local park with the girls. As is common, he and another mother struck up a conversation on the park bench. As is also common - in Berkeley - it rapidly became a game of P.C. one-upsmanship. This is how it went:

He got out organic store-bought snacks for his girls, the Other Mother's (hereinafter known as "OM") were homemade. He mentioned that they were Vegetarians, "OM" said her family was Vegan. He said that his family had only one car, "OM" said her's went everywhere by bicycle. He bought his family's produce at the Farmers' Market, "OM" grew their own. He bought local, organic, whole grain bread, "OM" made her own. He used natural disposable diapers, "OM" used cloth. And so it went, on and on, until Patrick finally laughed and said "You win!"

As I laughingly reflected on the story, an expression formed itself in my mind: "Berkeleyer Than Thou." And when I was looking for a good name for the super healthy, nutritious cookies I had devised, that seemed like just the perfect one.

At that time, Johanna weighed about 30 pounds, was a fussy eater, and I was trying to figure out how to cram maximum nutrition into every bite she ate. I looked for a cookie recipe that would work with my new food strategy, but still be tasty enough that she would want to eat them. At last, I found one that I thought would accommodate my "master plan." Then I tinkered with it, altering and cramming until I reached its limits of structural integrity. The results are an excellent alternative to energy bars and their disposable packaging.

Now, I'll be frank: this cookie could be "Berkeleyer;" it's not Vegan (there are eggs in it) it's not gluten-free, it contains chocolate, and it uses cane sugar. If you wish to be even Berkeleyer than me, please feel free to break out your spelt flour, agave or yacon nectar and carob chips, and figure out how to replace the egg with silken tofu. There's always a way to be "Berkeleyer Than Thou!"


"Berkeleyer Than Thou" Cookies
Makes 4 Baker's Dozen cookies

Use as many organic ingredients as you can, otherwise your playground bragging rights decline.

½ cup peanut butter (or other nut butter)
½ cup shortening (trans-fat free, of course) or butter
1 cup brown sugar
½ cup molasses
2 eggs
1 tsp baking soda dissolved in 2 TB warm water
1 TB dry milk powder or plain whey protein powder
1 TB soy protein concentrate
1 tsp wheat germ
1 cup plus 2 TB whole wheat flour
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp salt
3 cups rolled oats (not quick oats)
1 cup sweetened coconut
12 oz chocolate chips
2/3 cups nuts or seeds of your choice (pumpkin seeds are a good source of iron and vitamin E)
1 cup raisins

Cream the shortening and nut butter together. Add the sugar, molasses and eggs and beat until well-mixed. Mix in the baking soda solution and vanilla. In another bowl, whisk the flour, wheat germ, milk powder, soy protein, and salt to combine, and then add to the liquids. Mix well. Now, mixing in one ingredient at a time, add the oats, coconut, chocolate chips, nuts and raisins until well combined.

Drop rounded teaspoons on a baking sheet and flatten and spread with a fork. Bake at 375 F oven for 8-10 minutes, or until they are firm. Cool on racks.

These cookies are tastiest when fresh, so I like to make “freezer cookies;” divide the dough into 4 equal portions, placing it on parchment paper or wax paper. Use the paper to roll it into a firm log. Wrap well in the parchment and a plastic bag (the wrapper from your newspaper is just the right shape) and freeze until needed. Then cut into disks and flatten with a fork. I bake them for 15 minutes at 375 F when the dough is cold or frozen.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

The Whole Hog: Corn Muffins

When I was growing up, my mother had an empty coffee can which she kept on the stove; into it would go the bacon-fat drippings. I don't remember eating that much bacon, frankly, but somehow the can always seemed to have plenty in it. As hard as it is to believe now that she is such an enthusiast of oat bran and flax seed meal, my mother would use those drippings to cook with and flavor different dishes. When I was really little we had only one car, which my Daddy would take to work. If my mother ran out of something as she was cooking - oh, well. Canned goods therefore figured prominently in her cooking. The two things I most remember her using the bacon fat to flavor were canned green beans, (which though khaki colored, salty and soft from the canning process, I remember as delicious) and corn bread.

Although my mother no longer saves bacon drippings, I do. I have a little glass container in the refrigerator, and I use it for corn bread, and occasionally when I sautée vegetables for pea soup and the like. Of course, I don't use it that often; most of my cooking is done with olive oil, but a couple of spoonfuls of drippings in the right place can bring so much flavor.

In my last posting I promised I would provide a recipe for corn bread to go with the Hoppin' John. The recipe I am including here (which is both a Whole Hog recipe and goes with one, too) is a classic from the fine New England cookbook Fannie Farmer. Fannie Farmer ran a cooking school in Boston, and was a pioneer in the standardization of recipes. This cookbook, which was most recently revised by Marion Cunningham, rivals The Joy of Cooking as a useful all-purpose cookbook. (Of course, it lacks instructions for skinning a squirrel, but still...) My Grammie Staples had what I believe was the first edition of the Fannie Farmer cookbook, which my mother will forever regret throwing away when it became tatty. Some of the recipes I share most frequently with friends are excellent standards from this book, and I'm sure I will be sharing the Banana Nut Bread and Indian Pudding recipes with you all at some point.

This recipe comes together so quickly; while your dish is finishing off, you can grease the pan and mix the batter in 5-10 minutes, then throw them into the oven for 15 minutes. When your dish is done, you'll have hot, tasty muffins to go with it. If you don't have a ton of people at the table, and exercise even a modicum of self-control, you'll even have a few left over for breakfast. If you do, heat them up in the toaster oven and cut them open, slather with sweet butter and honey or jam. They are best served HOT.

But first, a word about corn meal: Corn is one of the foodstuffs on the marketplace most likely to be GMO - "genetically modified organisms." According to a US government survey, 80-86% of all corn planted between 2000 and 2009 was from genetically modified seed. Organic foods, however, are not GMO. If you wish to avoid GMO's in your food, please be sure to seek out organically grown corn meal.

Fannie Farmer's Corn Bread

3/4 cup yellow cornmeal
1 cup flour
1/3 cup sugar
3 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 cup milk
1 egg, beaten
2 TB melted bacon fat (or non-transfat shortening, if you must)

Preheat the oven to 425 F. Grease a muffin pan. Mix the cornmeal, flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt in a bowl. Melt the bacon fat in a small glass or ceramic bowl in the microwave. When it is liquid, beat in the egg with a fork until it is well blended; this keeps the bacon fat from congealing again. Now mix the milk into the egg mixture, and pour the liquids into the corn/flour mix. Stir with the fork or a wooden spoon until well-blended, then fill the muffin cups half-way, scraping the last of the batter with a spatula. You will have just enough to make 12 muffins. Now pop the pan in the oven and bake until the tops are just turning golden, about 15 minutes. Run a butter knife around the edge of each muffin, and pop them out into a basket or bowl lined with a towel to keep them warm. Serve hot with butter.

These muffins are great not only with Hoppin' John, but also corn chowder, chili con carne, and soups, and also make delicious sweet or savory sandwiches.

Enjoy!

Sunday, January 24, 2010

The Whole Hog: Starting the New Year Right with Hoppin' John

As a native Bay Stater, daughter of a 15th generation Yankee father and a German immigrant mother, black-eyed peas did not figure prominently in my food experience. In fact, it was not until an accidental delivery of frozen hog jowls that I gave them much thought at all.

After finding the perfect recipe for Spaghetti Carbonara alla Romana, which calls for the cured but unsmoked Italian bacon called guanciale, (ooh, do you sense a future post coming on?) I ordered some from the Niman Ranch website. But what arrived was raw, frozen hog jowls - 20 pounds of them! When the nice customer service rep arranged to send me the missing guanciale, she declined to take back the (rapidly thawing) package of raw jowls. I seasoned them, Joel smoked them on the Weber, and I began asking around. What do you do with a windfall of smoked hog jowls?

That's when I learned from our neighbors, Betty and Jimmy, about Hoppin' John, a dish of black-eyed peas, stewed with smoked pork and served over rice. Betty and Jimmy are southern transplants, where eating this dish on New Year's Eve or Day is said to bring you good luck. Although you can make it with ham hocks, salt pork, or slab bacon, smoked hog jowls is traditional in Alabama, where Betty and Jimmy grew up. More recently, I learned from my friend Nina, who grew up in North Carolina, that you really need to eat this dish with stewed greens, because that will bring you "folding money" in the new year.

Hoppin' John is a dish which originated in the African-American community, with former slaves. The origin of the name "Hoppin' John" is quite obscure; many legends abound involving one-legged men named John, enthusiastic diners hopping to the table and the like, but the most compelling explanation I have come across involves the Haitian Creole word pois à pigeons (pigeon peas.)

There are many recipes out there, from the very simple to the not-quite-as-simple, and I have found all the different versions I have made to be tasty. However, this year's version, using part of a meaty smoked jowl from our pig, along with leftover ham and a ham-bone from last year's pig, was the tastiest I've made yet. The recipe has plenty of room to improvise, so please fee free.


Hoppin' John

(It goes without saying - although here I am saying it! - that as many of these ingredients should be organic as possible.)

1 lb (2 1/2 cups) black-eyed peas, picked over and rinsed
1 large bay leaf
1 small dried hot red chile, or 1/4 tsp red pepper flakes (or more to taste)
A ham bone - if you have one, ham removed and reserved
2-4 oz smoked hog jowl, chopped into 1/4" dice, or bacon
2 medium onions, chopped
4+ cloves garlic, minced (it's hard to add too much)
2-4 medium carrots, peeled and chopped
2-4 stalks celery, diced
Leftover ham, if you have it, chopped into nice chunks
Plenty of freshly ground black pepper, and salt to taste
1 TB Worcestershire sauce
1 TB Hot sauce
Cayenne to taste


(If you don't have any leftover ham or a bone, a nice big smoked ham hock brings a lot to the party. Many food-centric towns have meat artistes who are dedicated to sustainably raised meats; Fatted Calf of Napa sells at Berkeley and SF farmer's markets, e.g. Ask around.)

Serve with: cooked rice, a nice vinegary hot sauce (like Tobasco), collard, mustard or turnip greens, or kale, cooked separately.

Oh, and hot corn bread with butter! (I guess that needs to be the next post....)


A note on the rice: in general, I am a brown rice enthusiast. However, for this recipe, we splurged and had white rice, which has a much more neutral flavor. And you're already getting a ton of fiber from the peas...


If time permits, begin soaking your black-eyed peas the night before, or first thing in the morning, in water to cover by two inches. Or, use the quick-soak method: cover with two inches of water in a five or six quart, heavy stock pot, bring to a boil, boil for two minutes, then turn off the heat, cover the pot and let sit for an hour.

(If you will be using a ham hock, be aware that they take longer to cook than the peas do. You'll need to start cooking the hock separately in water 1 1/2 to 2 hours before you start cooking the peas, and then use the broth as your soup base. Then let them cool, remove and chop the meat, and discard the skin, bones and cartilage. Drain your peas, and add the broth and meat to the pot of peas, and begin following from the next steps.)

When your peas are ready to go, drain them (for sure if you are following the hock recipe, optionally if you are not.) Then cover them with water, and add the bay leaf, pepper, and ham bone if you have it. Bring it to a boil, then lower heat, cover, and simmer while you work on the other ingredients. If things get too dry, add a little more water.

Heat up a good sized frying pan over medium heat (cast iron is the best; throw away that toxic non-stick stuff!) and add your chopped hog jowl or bacon. When it's getting all nice and golden and rendering up some nice fat, add the onions and saute, stirring often, until they begin to get a little golden, too. Now add the carrots and celery and garlic, and do the same for them. Make sure they don't burn! Sprinkle on some salt to taste. When everything is beginning to turn a nice color and get tender, scrape the whole thing into your peas, and stir well. Now simmer it all until the peas are tender and the flavors are beginning to meld. Now would be a good time to add your chopped leftover ham, and the two sauces, and then let it all heat up and the flavors meld some more. Now taste it; does it need more salt, pepper, a shake or two of cayenne? Is it a little too thick? Add some water. Too thin? Take out a cup or so of the peas and mash them with the back of a fork, then add them back to the pot. When it's all just the way you like, take out the bay leaf and the ham bone - save it for your favorite dog - put a serving of rice in everyone's bowl, then a nice big helping of the black-eyed peas. When I made this on New Year's Day, everyone loved it, from my father in-law, who gave it his highest compliment: "I might not need to add any salt to this!" to our daughter, who ate the leftovers at every possible meal until it was gone.

Friday, January 22, 2010

The Whole Hog: Around the Pig in 80 Ways

"Someone defined eternity as a ham and two people" wrote Irma Rombauer in The Joy of Cooking. I'm sure that this quote, and its history, date to the days before freezers and the ability to subdivide meat, because this is emphatically not how I've ever felt about ham, or any other part of the pig. A versatile and delicious meat, the only things that have ever stopped me from enjoying pork in every form are ethics and health. Happily, I have found solutions to both problems.

First, ethically raised animals are widely available for purchase directly from ranchers. The rancher from whom I purchase my pork and lamb, Mary Pettis-Sarley of Napa, sells 1/2 pigs and whole lambs, as well as beef cows and other farm products. She hires a person to perform their harvest in a humane way, and then small, local butcher shops will cut the meat to your specifications, smoke as much as you like, and then package and freeze it all in nice little bundles. A half of a pig or a whole lamb can comfortably fit in a regular sized freezer compartment of a refrigerator, and finding friends who'd like to share an animal is easy. No one I know has ever regretted buying too much; I have however heard and expressed many a regret about not purchasing more!

As to health, pig fat has been much maligned. If the animal has been raised on a healthy diet, and the fat has not been hydrogenated, the fat actually has a much healthier profile than you might expect. Here's what sausage king Bruce Aidells has to say on the subject in his Complete Book of Pork; "The saturated fat in lard contains about one third of stearic acid,, which may have a beneficial effect on cholesterol, and it helps to relax blood vessels. Lard, which is 40% unsaturated, belongs in the high oleic group, which has a similar lipid profile to olive oil..."

Here is what Mary Pettis-Sarley (wingedspan@earthlink.net) has to say about how she raises her pigs:

"They are Duroc, by breed.... Spotty is their Mom and Arnold is their Dad (your group.) They go out to pasture and eat greens, sleep on a straw bed in the barn and are fed fines (the finer particles from the mill), that I make slop with. Then they eat extra goat milk and whey when I am making cheese, and extra produce from the garden. I grow them Kale, which they love, and now they are eating pumpkins from the garden. They live as a family group, and 'spoon' with each other, which I love. I know two things... where the saying 'pigs in a blanket' comes from - it is just how they sleep, all lined up. And, where the saying 'I waited for you just like one hog waits for another' which they NEVER do....

Before this storm, I moved the younger group up to the top barn, which is drier for them, and makes more room for the goats in the lower barn. It took about half hour to move up to the top barn - we went the slow and interesting way - around the lake, twice, with them lazily grazing the taller grass all along the way. It was a delightful walk, with pigs and dogs strolling along."


If you are interested in finding sustainably farmed meats in your area, a quick google of "meat CSA" (CSA stands for "community supported agriculture," a way of paying the farmer directly for a share of her crop) turns up entries all over the country.

This year I bought 3/4 of a pig, my largest share ever, and I will be chronicling my cook's journey through all of the pig packages from my stash, calling it, of course "The Whole Hog." My friend Ondine, who bought the other quarter of the pig, will contribute pieces about her share, as well. In addition to the superior flavor and all the benefits of buying directly from the rancher, from ethical and environmental, to health and social justice, I love the adventure of figuring out how to cook the cut that I have, instead of cherry-picking at the meat counter and getting the same cut over and over.

Next time: Starting the year right with Hoppin' John; black-eyed peas cooked with smoked hog jowl.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Korean-Style Tofu with Spicy Garlic Sauce

"Mom, the truth is I don't really like tofu," said our nine year old politely, as I served her some for dinner. "It just doesn't taste like much." Honey, I am so with you on that. However, Ruth Reichl (editor of the late Gourmet) waxed so poetic about this recipe.... how her Dad would have said the same thing, but that this was so good, once he'd had a bite he would have lost all self-control... So, I saved the recipe; but there was just one obstacle - where was I going to get Korean hot red pepper flakes?

With all of the Japanese-American groceries in town, I thought I might score some there, but no dice. With all of the Mexican groceries within walking distance, I knew I had good access to lots of different chiles, but what kind were they, exactly? I googled the stuff on-line; I couldn't find anything about what kind of chiles they were, just that they were a darker red color, had fewer seeds, and weren't as spicy as the classic stuff you shake on pizza. Okay. With the nearest Korean grocer in in downtown Oakland or the outer Richmond district of San Francisco, I decided to pick a few seeds out of my generic red pepper flakes, (leaving very little else!) and mix in some Ancho chile powder - Voila! 20 minutes later, we all ate it for dinner. It was indeed delicious, and even the nine year-old liked it. In fact, it was so delicious that I decided it was worth the trip to go buy some Korean hot red pepper flakes.

The Koreana Plaza in the 2300 block of Telegraph in Oakland was quite an adventure; a bakery, deli, green-grocer, meat counter, and fish counter (three kinds of mackerel!) jars of kimchee so big you could use them to bathe your pets in afterward - there must be some serious kimchee enthusiasts out there.... At last I found the pepper; not near the black pepper as you might expect - no, the red pepper was in the special kimchee ingredients aisle, and therefore came in big, bigger, and biggest bags. It took a little while to sort out which ones were hot and which not, which fine and which flakes, but eventually I found a special little tag in English on the back, and now I am the proud owner of the smallest quantity I could purchase; one pound of "Kimchee Hot Pepper." This is good news for my Berkeley friends; when you decide to make this recipe, (which you really should) I will happily share some with you!


UPDATED FIELD NOTES:
I had been wondering why the recipe is so specific that you not use silken tofu. Meanwhile, my friend Kim was wondering why soft, not firm tofu. The first time I made the dish, I used firm tofu, which I had on hand, to excellent results. Last night I conducted an experiment; side by side, I cooked "soft, silken texture" tofu and "firm, silken" tofu. The "silken" textured tofu does not open up and absorb the sauce. Therefore, you have a piece of neutral tofu sitting in/under a pool of salty sauce; I can not consider this desirable. CONCLUSION: Use firm if you can't find soft organic tofu, but don't use silken.


Warm Tofu with Spicy Garlic Sauce
(Yes, it's from Gourmet Magazine again.)

Serves 2-3 as a main course, with rice

1 14 -18 oz package soft - not silken - tofu
1 tsp chopped garlic
1/4 cup chopped scallion (green onion)
2 tsp sesame seeds, toasted, then crushed with the side of a heavy knife
3 TB soy sauce
1 TB Asian sesame oil
1 tsp coarse Korean hot red-pepper flakes
1/2 tsp sugar

Carefully rinse the tofu, then cover it with cold water in a medium saucepan. Bring to a simmer over medium-high heat, then keep warm, covered, over very low heat. (I am unclear why it needs rinsing - I just drained it and then covered it in water.)

Meanwhile, mince and mash garlic to a paste with a pinch of salt. Stir together with the rest of the sauce ingredients.

Just before serving, carefully lift tofu out of the water with a large spatula (a fish spatula works great) and drain on a clean tea cloth (or paper towels). Gently pat dry, then transfer to a serving dish. Spoon some sauce over the tofu and serve immediately, with remaining sauce on the side.

Tofu can be kept warm in the water bath for up to 4 hours. The sauce cam be made up to one day in advance; warm it up to room temperature before serving. (Why bother making it in advance? It takes 3 minutes to make!)