As a vegan, it’s easy to eat A LOT of soy. Actually, these days, it’s easy to eat a lot of soy even if you’re an omnivore. It’s in so many things.

A popular source of protein for vegans and vegetarians is, of course, tofu. And while I love tofu and all varieties of it, I am trying to be very conscious of the amount of soy I take in. I know the topic of the health and environmental impacts of soy is controversial and people stand on opposite sides of the issue (and a lot depends on the form of soy in question). But I don't like to overdo anything, and I say, “better safe than sorry.” Plus, I love a culinary challenge and welcome as many ways to take in my protein as possible.

I have become kind of obsessed with hemp seeds lately. They contain all essential amino acids and fatty acids, and are therefore a complete source of protein. In addition, hemp is not a common allergen, like soy or nuts. And, most importantly, they are delicious. They have a nutty, creamy taste. I put spoonfuls on my coconut yogurt in the morning. I make fresh hemp milk. So, I figured, why not make some hemp tofu? Hey, the Italians already do it commercially!

hemp seeds

I got inspiration for this recipe from a few sources, mainly from a forum member on Post Punk Kitchen, named “vegimator” who makes tofu out of pumpkin and hemp seeds, and from a Finnish blog named Mammi who calls the finished product "hefu." I took their advice, combined it with my knowledge of tofu-making, and started experimenting.

This recipe yields a more crumbly tofu than soy tofu. Soy tofu is usually made after straining liquid from the pulp (or okara). I tried this technique with hemp and not enough solids were left in the strained out liquid to coagulate. Using the milk as is, straight from the blender, did work (and a Vitamix helps create a very smooth milk). Hemp tofu is great seared, for a scramble, or a stir-fry, if you don’t mind having rustic, non-cube chunks. Or do what I did: simply drizzle with some sweet soy sauce (equal parts soy sauce and sugar, simmered until thickened) and sprinkle with nori strips. The sweet soy sauce and nori goes great with the creaminess and earthiness of the hemp!

Hemp Tofu (or "hemp-fu" or "hefu")

Total Time: 1 hour
Yield: a few blocks, depending on size of tofu mold

Ingredients
2 cups shelled hemp seeds
4 cups water
1 1/2 teaspoons powdered nigari (available at Rainbow Grocery), which will be dissolved in 1 additional cup of water (Note: I have seen recipes for hemp tofu where a coagulant is not even used, so feel free to skip this part. Although, you may get a more crumbly result.)

Instructions

1. Blend hemp seeds with water for one minute at high speed (I used a Vitamix) to make hemp milk.
2. Put hemp milk in a pot and, partially cover it and bring to a boil. You'll start to seeing curds forming.



3. When it reaches a low boil, turn the heat down to medium-low and boil the milk for four minutes, stirring constantly to make sure it doesn't stick to the bottom of the pot.

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4. Meanwhile, dissolve the nigari in a cup of warm water.



5. Remove the pot from the stove, wait until the temperature reaches 155F. Add half the nigari solution and stir briskly for a few seconds. Wait until the liquid stops moving. Then add the rest of the nigari solution and gently stir a few times. Let sit 15 minutes.



6. Place a cheesecloth over a colander and strain the curds out.



7. Take an amount of curd that will fit in your press (this recipe makes a good bit of curd), place in another piece of cheesecloth and twist to get ALL of the liquid out. If it’s too hot to squeeze, you can try squeezing with tongs.



8. Place the ball of curd, still in the cloth, into a tofu press/mold, and press the curd down. Stack a few bottles or cans on top as a weight. [I bought a cheap wooden press for four dollars at Daiso in Japantown, but I think I’m going to invest in a TofuXpress so that I don’t have to worry about stacking cans on the press.]




9. Let the press stay for 30 minutes. Then unmold the hemp tofu and enjoy!

So, like other food preservationists and kitchen tinkerers, I love to dry things -- fruit slices, fruit leather, cheese, beef jerky, etc. In the heat of summer the sun does the work for me. But the other ten months of the year in Northern California, however, I usually rely on my oven on a low setting, door slightly ajar to release moisture, to do the job. And while effective, each bite contains the residual taste of enviro-guilt that comes from leaving the oven on and the heat blowing upward for several hours. The results are excellent, but I cannot help but be haunted by the fossil fuel energy loss necessary for a homemade Fruit Roll-Up.

Certainly I could buy a food dehydrator (and I still may), but my gas oven runs therms, plug-in dryers run watts, and I’m not science-geeky enough to know if they are truly more energy efficient. Plus, I thought, I already own a large piece of heating equipment that dries sopping wet clothing in record speed (also fueled by gas), that spins with convection-like capability.

The Newton’s apple (orange?) that struck me with the idea was a perfectly shriveled piece of orange peel found at the bottom of the clean laundry basket. Had I been sitting on (and ignoring) the world’s best food dehydrator next to the washing machine and not taking advantage of its power? Is it possible to more efficiently dry fruit, vegetables, and meat in the high-heat, high-motion clothes dryer in one round of Permanent Press? Sadly, at least in my scientific exploration, the answer is no.

I quickly sliced a navel orange into 1/8-inch slices. My hope was that a regular high heat setting would yield chewy, moist results. I didn’t want the fruit to touch the walls of the dryer directly, as I feared a future of sticky laundry as I scraped orange sauce from the inside of the machine’s barrel. I thought fabric assistance would help wick moisture and hold the fruit in place, so I grabbed a clean cotton dishtowel. Oh, and a knee sock. Everything’s better with knee socks.

I laid a dishtowel out into a rectangle shape and then arranged two rows of orange slices horizontally across the middle. I folded up the bottom and folded down the top, making sure fruit was tucked into towel completely. Then I folded one encased row over another to sandwich both rows of oranges together.

I used rubber bands to cinch the sides of the towels together and to keep the fruit from falling out. I had first tried this with clothespins, but they banged around too much and some of them broke. Safety pins work, too.

Then -- my genius move -- I cut the toe from an old knee sock (don’t worry, I’ll still wear it!) and wiggled the sock down like a tube over the entire length of the towel and fruit to secure it. Note that I first tried this with a polyester sock, a fiber known for keeping moisture in. Rookie error! Go with all cotton.

I moved the whole fruit-towel-sock contraption to a mesh laundry bag. If my experiment worked, my hope was that I could put several batches of fruit into the laundry bag and dry them all at once.

After 70 minutes on Permanent Press, the good news is that I managed to contain the fruit and I didn’t have to clean the machine. The bad news, however, is that the fruit was still very, very wet. I tried one more cycle but then gave up, because after two hours, it wasn’t drying nearly as quickly as it does in the oven. If you try a different method and you have any success, please let me know!

In the interim, I’ll go back to drying fruit the old-fashioned way in the oven (OK, modern old-fashioned, because true old-fashioned would be drying it over a fire).  Here’s how I usually do it.

Chewy Dried Orange Slices

Time: About 3 hours

Despite my continuous protests, my mother mails me Honeybell oranges from Florida every year. They cost her a fortune. Some of them always arrive moldy. They’re not organic. And, uh, I live in California where the oranges nearby are outrageously good. I feel bad just using them all for juice, so I dried them with just a touch of sugar to balance out the tanginess of the dried fruit. The finished results are far more complex than they appear: moist, sticky, and chewy, super tangy and super flavorful -- like a slice of the best marmalade or orange candy you’ve ever had. Eat them straight up, or use their jewel-like demeanor to stunningly top iced cookies, cupcakes, or cakes. Of course, you can also do this with navel oranges or any other sweet variety.

Ingredients
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 4 large Honeybell oranges
• 1 tsp. flaked sea salt (like Maldon)
• Crushed black pepper, to taste

Instructions
1. Preheat the oven to 200 degrees.
2. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper, and pour the sugar into a bowl or small plate.
3. Using a serrated knife, slice the rind and pith from the bottom and the top of the oranges. Stand the fruit straight up and cut off all of the skin -- first cut from top to bottom and then flip the orange over and slice from top to bottom again to remove it all. Thinly slice the well-peeled fruit into horizontal rounds about 1/8-inch thick and move them onto a clean dish towel in a single layer. Once all oranges have been cut, lay another clean towel on top and press on it gently to absorb some of the juice.
4. Dip one side of the orange into the sugar and place it onto the baking sheet sugar side down. Follow suit with all of the oranges until the tray is full -- it’s okay if the oranges touch one another, but don’t let them overlap.
5. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Place them in the oven on a low rack, and leave the oven door ajar with a wooden spoon.
6. Check the oranges after about three hours. They should be tacky on top and may pool some syrup, but not fully dry. If not, check them every half hour for doneness.
7. Eat them warm or pack the oranges in a single layer separated by sheets of wax paper in an airtight container. Store refrigerated for several months.

Caleb Zigas of La Cocina, Ruth Reichl, and Alice Waters, at the Good Food Awards.

Ruth Reichl was standing in front of a gigantic American flag hanging like a banner along the wall of the Ferry Building on Friday, January 13th. It was a backdrop worthy of any Presidential hopeful stumping for votes in the heartland, but here, the stars and stripes were evoking not just Mom and apple pie but Mom's apple pie, and maybe great-granddaddy's moonshine, and now their kids' apple-whiskey chutney and curried cauliflower pickles. It was time to welcome the room of makers and media, gathered in San Francisco for the 2nd annual Good Food Awards, a celebration of the best of artisanal food production from coast to coast.

"Most of you are too young to have grown up in the white-bread world that I did," said Reichl. Every cheese was sliced and wrapped in plastic, all strawberries were huge and tasted like cotton. This changed, slowly, through the work of pioneers like Alice Waters, sitting off to one side of the podium, as well as dozens of other food pioneers. Reichl remembered the first time she walked into The Cheeseboard, in Berkeley and was handed a taste of Laura Chenel's Sonoma-made fresh goat cheese. Reichl lived on it all that summer, and knew that she had to meet the woman making something so new (to American tastes) and so delicious. Then there was "Artists of the Earth," an article she wrote for California magazine in the early 1980s, profiling nine men and women making a difference in the food world and beyond. "They are some of California's most valuable resources," she wrote then, "...perfectionists who work very hard not because they expect to get rich but simply because they expect to get the best."

Walking through Chino Ranch with Alice a few years later, she was amazed at the quality of produce surrounding them. Corn so sweet it needed no cooking. Strawberries so intensely fragrant that every fellow traveler on the small plane she and Alice were taking from San Diego to Oakland came up and begged for a berry off the flats they were carrying in their laps. "Every person said, 'I forgot strawberries could smell like that! Please, can I just have one?'" she recounted. "And I watched Alice give away that night's dessert for Chez Panisse, because how could she say no?"

"Back then, I never could have dreamed how huge the change was going to be. We now live in a country that has the best produce in the world...We are reclaiming our edible heritage. "Thank you for giving us the America we once dreamed we could have."

After this came the awards, 99 products in eight categories (coffee, chocolate, charcuterie, pickles, preserves, cheese, beer, spirits). There were no single winners; instead, each category had a fat handful of top picks, from seven coffee roasters to 14 preserve-makers. The winners, like food-world Olympians, got medallions stamped in the shape of the tools of their trade--a cleaver, a canning jar--strung on wide red-white-and-blue ribbons to hang around their necks.

It was hard not to feel a little hometown, homestate pride at the fine showing the Bay Area, and California, made in the final running. Two local beers made the cut, at opposite ends of the brewing spectrum: from San Leandro, Drake's Brewing Company's high-alcohol, rich-as-devil's-food Drakonic Imperial Stout, and from Petaluma, the Lagunitas Brewing Company's spritzy, grapefruity ale, dubbed A Lil' Sumpin' Sumpin'. In the coffee category, Equator Coffees from San Rafael won for its fair trade/organic Ethiopian Watadera beans.

In pickles, California snagged three of the 11 winning picks, including Farmhouse Culture's Smoked Jalapeno Sauerkraut, Emmy's Pickles and Jams' Turmeric Cauliflower, and the Devil Sauce made by Let's Be Frank, of grass-fed hot-dog truck fame. (And we'll give a California hug to OlyKraut, which was founded by Sash Sunday, a former San Franciscan who got into the kraut biz shortly after relocating to Olympia, WA. Plus, she makes nettle kraut!)

OlyKraut, from left: Sash Sunday, Alexia Crousnillon, Nate Massé (not pictured: Summer Bock)

We tied with New York in the cutthroat preserves category, winning for Artisan Preserves' Orange Honey Marmalade, Chez Pim's Blueberry-Golden Raspberry Preserves, and Wine Forest Wild Foods' Wild Elderberry Shrub.

Wylie Whiskey, from left: Matt Jones, Garrett Hale, Sarah Swearington.

It's a cascade of riches from our part of the Golden State: Costa Rican chocolate bars from Dandelion Chocolate in SF; white whiskey from Wylie Howell Spirits in Petaluma; Carmody (my favorite!) and whole-milk ricotta from Bellwether Farms in West Marin; yogurt cheese from Sonoma's St. Benoit, pork, rabbit, and duck terrine from Fatted Calf in SF and Napa; speck from Oakland wine bar/salumeria Adesso.

Dandelion Chocolate: Alice Nystrom, Todd Masonis

Come the next morning, many of the previous night's winners were out in force at the Good Food Awards Marketplace, a tasting/selling spread of tables organized by category set up under the archways of the Ferry Building. Reichl, who now runs the specialty food (and content) site Gilt Taste, was on hand with a keen appetite, even after a late-night dinner with Alice and friends at Locanda in the Mission. Already, she's tried the chilaquiles and shrimp ceviche at the Primavera market stand, and tells me, joyfully, of the "best breakfast sandwich" she's ever had, from 4505 Meats: a soft, buttery brioche bun piled with a maple-bacon sausage patty, an oozy-centered fried egg, and a frizz of snappy peppercress. Speaking of her talk the previous night, she laughed at the thought of trying to profile just eight makers now. "At the time, it was hard to find even eight people, enough to write about. I had to include a produce distributor, a guy who was raising pigs and lambs for Chez Panisse. Now, that would be ridiculous. You'd have to write an encyclopedia!"

If anything, she thinks we're underestimating the strength and staying power of the artisan movement. Already, the food makers' landscape has changed drastically in just the past five years. In the next five, ten years, what will it look like?

Kathryn Lukas of Farmhouse Culture

There's no doubt, though, that the movement is fostering ever-closer relationships between chefs, makers and farmers. These products, from basil vodka to sea-vegetable kraut, are only as good as their raw ingredients. Recounting a cabbage blight that decimated the California crop last year, Farmhouse Culture founder Kathryn Lukas quoted Let's Be Frank's Larry Bain, laughing, "It's hard when you're in business with God."

Oftentimes the best, most successful businesses are those born from an understanding of a lack of something in a particular neighborhood. Such was the case with the Oaktown Spice Shop, John Beaver and Erica Perez's charming new spice shop in the Grand/Lakeshore neighborhood of Oakland. The first thing you'll notice about the space, once a men's clothing and shaving boutique, is the distinctly handsome aesthetic. The fixtures and shelving are all salvaged, and John searched high and low and pulled from his own personal collection to find the vintage scales and spice jars you'll see scattered about. It's the kind of space where each detail has been tended to, and you can sense right away that everything is in its rightful place. In that way, it feels very special. Very well-crafted. Very welcoming.

A Peek Inside Oaktown Spice Shop

During my time there, I tasted two different kinds of cinnamon, and smelled the freshest cumin and coriander I've ever come across. I also learned about Tellicherry black peppercorns, which John described as fully ripened with a more refined flavor than traditional black peppercorn. When I told him I wasn't aware there were so many kinds of peppercorns, he likened the difference to varieties of tomatoes and how drastically they can differ in taste. After talking with John for just a moment, you realize you're dealing with a man who really knows his spices and blends. From the common to the more obscure, you're in good hands here.

Star Anise and Nutmeg

When John found out I was a baker, we chatted all about different varieties of cinnamon and vanilla, and I'm so looking forward to trying them out in apple and pear pies. If you're used to buying bulk spices at Whole Foods or other upscale grocery stores you're going to notice two things right away when you walk into Oaktown Spice Shop: first the prices are far better. Second, the spices are far, far fresher. You can open up the jars and take a sniff and it's possible that you won't even recognize some familiar spices you use often. This happened to me pretty quickly. New Year's Resolution #62.

Spice Graters & Rows of Spices

As far as where they get their high-quality selection, John and Erica don't directly import any spices themselves; they work with distributors they know and trust, and have spices and herbs from all over the world including India, Africa, China, and the Mediterranean. When asked what the most popular spice has been so far, John doesn't hesitate to answer that the smoked paprikas practically sell themselves. Perhaps it's because such ingredients are being listed in more and more recipes these days or maybe because they're smartly displayed right by the register. Regardless, locals are snatching them up. Big time.

Smoked paprika shelf!

While they hold normal business hours now, they used to just be open on Saturdays while they worked out the kinks and got everything situated just right. Now that they're fully operational, John and Erica are starting to think about ways they can continue to reach out to the community and get people excited about spices. Erica and I talked about the possibility of having a booth at the farmers market, but for now they're taking things one step at a time.

Owners of the Oaktown Spice Shop helping customers: John Beaver and Erica Perez

When I asked how on earth you fall into the spice business, John mentioned how he used to work at a spice shop back in Milwaukee, where he's from, and couldn't stop thinking about opening a shop here upon moving to Oakland.

Cinnamon...and even more spices!

The neighborhood was a logical choice as the couple lives close by. But it was also a good business decision. There is strong foot traffic and being so close to the Farmers Market, Whole Foods, and Trader Joe's inserts them into a dynamic food community with interested and eager customers who enjoy cooking, baking, and expanding their horizons. It's a win-win for everyone. And after a brief visit to the Oaktown Spice Shop last week, it's going to be an ongoing win for John and Erika.

Oaktown Spice Shop
530 Grand Ave., Oakland, CA 94610
(510) 201-5400

Hours: Tuesday-Friday: 12pm-7pm
Saturday: 10am-5pm
Sunday: 12pm-4pm
Closed Mondays

Website is still under construction; like them on Facebook to keep up to date.

Chef Jacques Pépin demonstrates how to make haddock steaks in rice paper with a shallot and soy sauce. This video clip is a web-exclusive that was taped during the filming of Jacques' series Essential Pépin.

Chef Jacques Pépin demonstrates how to clean and prepare mussels. He is joined by his daughter, Claudine on the set of his TV series Essential Pépin.

Chef Jacques Pépin demonstrates how to crystallize orange skin to make candied orange peels. This video clip is a web-exclusive that was taped during the filming of Jacques' series Essential Pépin.

Chef Jacques Pépin demonstrates how to debone a quail. This video clip is a web-exclusive that was taped during the filming of Jacques' series Essential Pépin.

We’re used to buying cardboard boxloads of factory drone candy canes that are uniform, neatly wrapped, shapely, laden with high fructose corn syrup, and positively soulless. But me -- I’m the gal who likes my candy lumpy. If there were an Island of Misfit Toys for food, these “special” little guys would surely be inhabitants (along with Dingle Berries Candy and Hot Pockets, most likely).

Making candy canes is a lot of fun, and the sweat equity can’t be beat. The flavor is clean and super minty (with a little creaminess to it, thanks to the vanilla extract), and the yield is ample enough to allow me to hand them out generously. And despite the number of words in the recipe below, the whole thing took under an hour. There is a knack to it, however, as pulling hard candy can be a tricky mistress. A couple of things to keep in mind, particularly if you’ve never made candy before:

  
•  A candy thermometer is a very, very, very good idea. No reason not to have one, as they are about $15 and they can be used for frying as well. You can buy a cheaper one made of glass, but they’re pretty breakable. I recommend one like this made of metal, with a sturdy clip, and a protector on the bottom to keep the thermometer off the bottom of the pot.

 

• Heat-retardant gloves. These are great to use as oven mitts as well. But if you’re just dabbling and you don’t wish to invest, you can get by with snug mittens covered by disposable gloves (I always have a couple on-hand for kitchen use and home hair dying stolen from my gynecologist’s office), but you will indeed have to endure a little heat.

    

• Be generous with the oil. A light sheen on the pans and on the bench scraper ain’t gonna cut it. Don’t be shy. Speaking of which...

   

• A bench scraper. This is a small wonder in the kitchen, and an inexpensive and easy-to-store must for baking, candy making, pasta making, etc. Two is better, but you can certainly get by with one.

One other thing: despite the candy appeal, I’m sorry to say that this is not a good project for kids. Scalding fluid and fairly quick work don’t mix well with young’uns.

This recipe took a lot of inspiration from this recipe and this video posted by Slashfood.

Let’s candy cane away!

Homemade Candy Cane Recipe

Time: About one hour

Makes: About 16 3-inch candy canes

Ingredients you will need:

3 cups sugar
1 cup corn syrup (Don’t be scared. It’s not HFCS. Totally different thing.)
1/3 cup water
1/2 tsp. cream of tartar
1/8 tsp. kosher salt
Vegetable oil for pans, tools, and gloves
2 tsp. peppermint oil (ideally not extract, but ok to use if that’s all you have)
1 tsp. vanilla extract
Red food coloring -- about 1/3 of one of those tiny bottles (however, next time I make these I will first make my own food coloring. If you get to it before me, let me know how it works!)

Instructions:

1. Preheat the oven to 200 degrees. Oil two large baking sheets, a bench scraper, and kitchen shears or a sharp knife. Lay a piece of parchment paper or a Silpat on the counter where the canes can dry. Move one of the baking sheets to the warm oven.
2. Meanwhile, in a straight-sided deep saucepan off heat, combine the sugar, corn syrup, water, cream of tartar, and salt and stir them together well. Clip a candy thermometer to the side of the pot and move it onto medium-high heat. Without stirring, let the syrup come up to 305 degrees. Using a pastry brush or a paint brush dedicated to culinary use, wash down any stray sugar crystals from the side of the pot. Ready the peppermint oil, food coloring, measuring spoons, and vegetable oil. Glove thyself with either heat-retardant gloves or snug mittens covered with disposable gloves.
3. Once the syrup has reached temperature, pour it out onto the room temperature baking sheet. Drizzle the peppermint oil on top, and using the bench scraper, scrape the hot candy up from the bottom and fold it over onto itself to stir it through. Once it has cooled slightly, mix in the vanilla as well. Note that the peppermint scent in the air will be strong.
4. Continuously scrape up and stir the syrup to cool it until it becomes a pliable dough. Cut the dough in half and move one piece to the baking sheet inside the warm oven. (First, we’ll “pull” the white half of the candy cane. Then we’ll color the red half.)
5. Quickly oil your gloved hands, as it’s now time to pull the candy. Scrape up the candy dough into one piece and, working as quickly and as continuously as you can, pull it out into a rope, double it over onto itself, and twist it together. Pull it, double it, and twist it again. Keep on going this way at a quick clip, and you’ll notice that the candy will start to take on a ribbon-y sheen. This is how the candy will turn white, so keep going until the color is pure. Embrace the upper body workout. Note that anytime the candy becomes too stiff, simply warm it up again in the oven to soften.
6. Don’t let the candy get too hard. When it’s reached a nice white color, place it onto its baking sheet and move it to the warm oven. Re-oil your bench scraper. Take out the second tray of candy dough and pour on the red food coloring -- about a third of one of those tiny bottles for a good rich color. Use your scraper fold the candy onto itself to incorporate the color completely. Note that this side of the candy cane does not need to be pulled. Move both candy cane trays to the oven and let them warm through for about 5 minutes until pliant.
7. Once warm and squishy enough to work with, take both pieces of candy from the oven and roll them into logs as long as the baking sheet. Cut each log into four equal pieces. Hang on to one red piece and one white piece, moving the rest of the candy back into the oven to keep warm.
8. On the countertop, line the red and white logs alongside one another and begin to twist from one end, stretching as you go, making the candy canes as thin or as thick as you like. Use your oiled shears or knife to cut the length of each cane. Shape the hook of the cane, and press down on the ends to taper. Set the canes aside to cool. (Know, of course, that you could also cut into sticks, rounds, or individual peppermint sucking candy). Admire the individual quality of your handiwork.
9. Repeat this process with the remaining 3/4 of the candy, one piece of each color at a time.
10. Allow candy to cool until completely hard; about 15 minutes. Wrap each cane in plastic wrap to keep it from sticking. Store in an airtight jar for several months.