Author: Hannah (BitterSweet)
Author of My Sweet Vegan, Vegan Desserts, Vegan a la Mode, and Easy as Vegan Pie.
Grate Expectations
Tempeh has more in common with cheese than you may think. Moldy soybean cakes and buttery curds look nothing alike on the surface, granted, but look deeper. Fermented, full of good bacteria, they’re both naturally funky, umami, and sometimes pungent. For years, I had the hazy idea to make tempeh into cheese by blending it with cashews, though it turns out I was vastly overthinking things. Tempeh is already halfway to cheese-ification, straight out of the package.
Brine and Dine
Inspired by Vegan Scratch Kitchen, it turns out that the only thing separating tempeh from becoming a wedge of genuine cheese is a simple brine, as basic as if you were making refrigerator pickles. Mesmerized by the golden shreds raining down in the dappled sunlight of a cozy kitchen, I knew I had to try it… With modifications, of course.
The Secret Ingredient: Time
Though easy to a fault, it is time-consuming, only in the sense that you can’t plan on having cheese ready for your spaghetti dinner that same day. It’s all passive, waiting for the tempeh to soak, and then dry, requiring minimal effort at every step. For someone with low energy and a limited attention span, it’s a boon to realize your timer is going off and you’re already done.
Falling Short of Grate-ness
Admittedly, the one thing my tempeh cheese (AKA tempeh Parmesan, though not to be confused with the Italian dish typically involving eggplants or chicken) falls short on is its grate-ability. It just crumbles under pressure, which is honestly not a terrible thing. You can use the chunky crumbles in salad like little hunks of cheese, or pulse the whole thing in your food processor to make a fine powder like you’d find in the green cans. I came to prefer this approach, since you can add in extra nooch in this step and boost the cheesy flavor accordingly.
Top This
For a cheesy topping that imitates dairy-based Parmesan, you can’t do any better than this novel, plant-based approach. Made from only whole foods, it’s a high-protein, gluten-free dynamo packed with probiotics, and most importantly, bold flavor!
Marvelously Mundane
I can’t tell you a single thing I learned in my classes about Art History, but I can tell you in detail about where I went to lunch after. My forgetfulness is unsurprising, but the fact that I’ve dedicated so much brain space to a completely forgettable meal is genuinely infuriating. I’ll be the first to say that neither the eatery nor my order are or were special. Lemonade LA is like an expensive cafeteria for tech bros and hipsters that want to make healthier choices, short of bringing their own food to work. Assemble a tray of cold or hot options and be on your way.
School Lunch in SF
When it first opened in downtown San Francisco, I was one of the first people in line. Anything to shake up the routine of schoolwork and endless commutes. Given the slim vegan options, I immediately lit upon the avocado and tomato salad. It’s every bit as boring as it sounds: avocado, tomato, pine nuts, and lime vinaigrette. Perhaps it was comforting at least in part because it was so unremarkable. Fresh, rich, and satisfying, every single time.
All-Purpose Avocados
It’s the kind of thing you absolutely do not need a recipe for, yet it can be a helpful reminder in times of need. Need something for an impromptu happy hour, pot luck, or unannounced dinner guest? It’s a salad, yes, but also a side dish, salsa, topping, and plant-based ceviche, if you’re feeling fancy.
Serving Suggestions
That’s to say, you can serve it with chips like a dip, or heaped on top of toast. Toss in chickpeas or diced tofu for protein, or add more veggies like sliced hearts of palm, steamed asparagus, or roasted broccoli. Toss with chilled pasta or leafy green to make it a bigger, complete meal. Double it for a crowd or halve it to eat two servings at once, because for all it can do, it can’t do everything, and doesn’t keep well.
The Basic Blueprint
Here’s your cheat sheet. I’ve improvised and simplified the original approach considerably over the years, so trust me when I say that you can’t mess it up. Juicy tomatoes tossed with buttery cubes of ripe avocado, doused in bright citrus will never do you wrong.
Wordless Wednesday: There’s No Place Like Uchi
Avocado Nigiri
Biendo
Brussels Sprouts
Cabbage
Chef’s Choice Veggie
Edamame
Grilled Romaine
Grilled Snap Peas
Kinoko Usuzukuri
Nasu Nigiri
Spicy Crunchy
Tofu Mushi
Uchi Salad
Yasai Cure
Uchi
3821 N Scottsdale Rd
Scottsdale, AZ 85251
The Joy of Food
Food should be a thing of joy. It should be a catalyst of joy; an acknowledgement and celebration of joy; the embodiment of joy that can be felt, seen, and fully experienced. Food Joy: Over 100 Vegan Recipes that Delight the Senses, Nourish the Body, and Uplift the Spirit by Tess Challis pays homage to exactly that, sharing the recipes and principles behind creating unconditional happiness, every step of the way.
As a plant-based cookbook first and foremost, you’ll find the usual range of snacks, soups, salads, entrees, breakfasts, and sweets, all made with whole foods. From this holistic approach, health and wellness are critical components of fostering joy, not tiresome obligations that come at the expense of it. Simple techniques are leveraged to yield quietly spectacular results, meeting cooks of all skill levels where they are.
I had the privilege of photographing and designing the book, watching the journey unfold as Tess worked her magic. It’s her ninth publication, but the first with contributions from her daughter, Alethea, balancing family favorites with fresh inspiration. That means miso soup with a bold citrus infusion, personal pizzas made with flourless, air fried crusts, and creamy mac and cheese boasting more protein than your average filet.
Every page radiates warmth, from the heartfelt anecdotes to the vivid, inviting imagery that captures each dish in its most irresistible moment. There’s a soulfulness to Food Joy that transcends the recipes themselves. Each one feels like a love letter to comfort, creativity, and connection. Whether you’re drawn in by the golden glow of air-fried turmeric cauliflower or the playful elegance of a layered chia pudding parfait, there’s a genuine sense that you’re being welcomed into something special, something deeply personal.
Tess encourages readers to embrace the process, to savor the chopping and stirring as much as the final bite. With Alethea’s voice sprinkled throughout, there’s a multi-generational dialogue that reminds us joy can be passed down, shared, and reinvented. Food Joy is nourishment in every sense of the word: physical, emotional, and yes, even spiritual.
Can I Prik Your Brain?
“Try to guess the secret ingredient. The seeds kind of give it away.”
Squinting hard into bowl of rapidly diminishing dip, as if staring more intensely would reveal a hidden message, I racked my brain. I could taste chilies, of course, which the seeds could be attributed to, but isn’t that too obvious? There was an undercurrent of garlic beneath the heat, a blast of sour lime, the salty, umami flavor of fermented soy… But what’s the base?
What is Nam Prik?
Nam prik is more than a mere condiment in Thai cuisine. Traditionally built on a foundation of fermented shrimp paste, it’s an appetizer, sauce, sandwich spread, and party starter all in one. Powerfully flavorful with an intense balance of sweet, sour, spicy, and salty tastes, it’s heady stuff that you won’t soon forget. Reimagined by my good friend and talented chef Philip Gelb, I struggled to pick apart the fully melded components.
Not-So-Secret Ingredient
At the risk of jeopardizing my foodie cred, I admitted defeat. “Eggplant,” he professed, with a conspiratorial grin. Raw eggplant, no less. Green Thai eggplant, unlike the Italian, Chinese, or Japanese varieties, can be eaten raw. Crunchy when simply sliced, it transforms into a soft and yielding paste, ready to soak in all the aromatic seasonings you can throw at it.
We Got The Funk
Nam Prik Gapi (or Kapi) made with the classic shrimp composition can be a bit polarizing. Some say its an acquired taste, like stinky tofu or other similarly pungent fermented foods. For the vegan version, fermented Chinese bean curd (furu) brings the funk in a mild-mannered way, more tangy than twisted. Doenjang and miso paste work together to add an earthy, salty depth, amplifying the umami throughout.
After hounding him for a few weeks, Phil graciously shared his recipe, possibly to get me off his case. Of this creation, he says, “This has recently become a favorite dish of mine. Ironic since I never would have tried it in the first place as the idea of a shrimp paste has no appeal to me. Since I have no memories of the taste of shrimp, I have no idea if this has any imitation characteristics. Nonetheless, the flavor of this dip is exceptional in and of itself. However, when I am on the other side of the planet in a stunningly beautiful vegan restaurant and my new friend picks that dish out of the menu, I am happy to try. A true umami bomb! Never thought about eating raw eggplant before but this recipe changes that attitude, completely. Dips like this are very common in Thailand, served as appetizers with raw, crunchy, fresh vegetables. I find fried tempeh to be the ideal texture and flavor to dip into this.”
As I finished off the last scoop of that addictive dip, the flavors of hot chilies, fermented bean curd, tangy lime, and earthy eggplant lingered on my tongue. It’s a marvel what can happen when you let fresh ingredients be your muse and simply trust in the process.