How Tofu Murdered My Kettle

So... No more kettle. It's in about 5 different pieces in the trash right now. All because I decided we needed to have tofu for dinner one night this weekend.

I really like tofu, especially when it's cooked right. I'm sure a lot of people could argue with me over what is "right," but unless they agree with me, they're wrong. I prefer my tofu crispy on the outside and firm on the inside. I really can't stand when it's too soft, runny, and not even browned on the outside. If it looks like flan, I'd rather not touch it.

Unfortunately, when we were eating vegan last year, it took a lot of trial and error to figure out how to get the tofu that way. There is a Vietnamese/Thai/Japanese restaurant around the corner that cooked it just right--I could eat their tofu all day long (and with their peanut sauce... oh, yum). But spending $30 for dinner for two was just getting expensive, so I set out to do it on my own. I mean, how hard could it be?

Hard. Very, very hard.

(That's what she said).

Anyway, after about 5 attempts, I learned that the type of tofu is very important (hint: buy the stuff found in your produce section, not the stuff you find with the soy sauce). After buying the right stuff, you want to suck as much moisture out of the tofu as possible. The best way to do that is treat the tofu like an eggplant: salt it, lay it over some paper towels, and press it with something heavy.

And, as you guessed it, my kettle makes a perfect heavy pressing object. I filled that sucker up, put it on top of one of my cutting boards, and stacked it on the tofu. After about an hour, I changed out the paper towels (which were soaking wet--score!), flipped the tofu over, and went back on my merry way. And about 30 minutes later, there was a loud crash and my kettle was dead on the floor, little pieces of black handle everywhere and water flooding the kitchen.

Sad for my kettle.

So, the lesson to take from this story: If you want to murder your kettle, make tofu for dinner.