Cook This Book: Tamu

I know remarkably little about African cuisine, but what I do know, unfortunately, is that I’m not alone in that. We consider ourselves a global society, immutably interconnected from here on out, and yet outside of Africa, which is the second largest continent on Earth, the food is largely lost in translation.

Even in the most diverse, metropolitan cities in America, where so many other cultures are celebrated, finding a restaurant specializing in any African food is like striking gold. I mean that both in the sense that the chances of it happening are exceedingly rare, and if you do happen to luck out, you’ll be truly rich.

That’s why I was so quite frankly thunderstruck by the depth and breadth of culinary knowledge contained within the pages of Tamu: A Journey Through Africa’s Plant-Based Cuisine by Jane Nshuti.

Right out of the gate, this is different from the average cookbook. Written with a distinct perspective and zero pretense, Ms. Nshuti manages to bridge the divide between instruction and inspiration seamlessly. She stays true to her heritage, writing from only her perspective and experiences to share a genuine, personal account of a life lived through food.

Ingredients are explained, not dumbed down, refusing to pander to the lowest common denominator. If you’re hungry to learn, all the tools and information you need are right here, at your disposal. Ravenous to expand my own palate, it was a revelation to read about so many ingredients and dishes that never even been my radar before.

First off, Africa is not a monolith. Elegantly illustrating this point, recipe chapters are divided by country of origin, each one part of Ms. Nshuti’s personal path. Debunking the misconceptions that African food is “too starchy, too heavy, and too meaty” with every turn of the page, the fact that the whole book is vegan wouldn’t even register if not overtly stated. Having grown up with limited means herself, it feels like a wildly affordable luxury every time I sat down with a new dish in front of me. Abundance is implied; joy is inherent.

Green Banana Curry (page 96) from Tanzania provided my first real introduction to matoke, which are confusingly referred to as simply “green bananas” in most cases. No, they’re not unripe Cavendish bananas nor plantains, matoke are small, starchy, and vaguely reminiscent of white sweet potatoes when cooked. Stewed with coconut milk, spices, and vibrant fresh vegetables, the dish is positively dazzling. It’s an easy entry point towards appreciating the understated magnificence of this misunderstood staple.

Egusi Soup (page 164) from Nigeria had been on my wish list for a very long time. Egusi seeds, derived a melon distantly related to the watermelon, are ground into a course paste to form the rich foundation of this stew. Eggplant, mushrooms and soy strips take the place of animal protein, though you could easily adapt that to anything you have on hand. Spiked by the heat of habanero, dawadawa seeds (fermented locust beans) add an irreplaceable complexity that’s utterly crave-worthy. Perhaps it’s an unorthodox addition, but I thought that a dollop of shito makes it even better.

My only critique is that while the photo show some sort of greens cooked down into the mix, there’s no mention of anything of the sort in the recipe or accompanying text. Further research tells me that ugwu (fluted pumpkin leaf), uziza leaf (pepper leaf), bitter leaf, or waterleaf are traditional inclusions, while spinach, kale, or collard greens are common alternatives outside of Africa.

Banfora Cakes (page 206) from Burkina Faso are often described as pineapple Welsh cakes, which fall somewhere between scones and pancakes, cooked on a hot griddle. I’d like to further confuse the uninitiated by saying that they remind me of sweet biscuits, crispy around the edges and fluffy on the inside, perfectly at home on the dinner table if not for the finishing sprinkle of cinnamon sugar on top. They strike me as the ideal solution to urgent cravings, since they use basic staples and come together in roughly 30 minutes from start to finish.

Umureti Wa Okara (page 19) is just one example of how the author maintains her distinct perspective in honoring traditional African foods while also using their inspiration to create her own unique dishes. A simple chickpea flour omelette gets a new lease on life with the addition of pan-fried okra and fresh cilantro. It blurs the boundaries between nations, speaking fluently in the universal language of a good meal. That said, my omelette quickly turned into a scramble, failing twice to hold together as intended. Purportedly just a single serving, it easily turned into two, or even three if served with a side.

Some chapters are necessarily shorter than others. Relaying memories alongside recipes flowing naturally from storytelling to suppertime, each page is a reflection of the Ms. Nshuti’s life; nothing more, nothing less. For places that made a bigger impact on her passion for cooking, there are naturally more recipes inspired by those experiences. There’s no breathless hyperbole pushing the reader along. Instead, we’re only asked to follow, if we’re hungry and curious enough, to learn more.

“Tamu” can be translated as sweet, pleasant, nice, or tasty, depending on who you ask. All seem like fine explanations for the contents of this cookbook, though I’d argue it deserves greater praise than that.

Every Minute Counts

Isa Chandra Moskowitz needs no introduction, and yet, I still can’t help but try. Considered by many as the godmother of modern veganism, her cookbooks are often the first tome of any new convert. Countless burgeoning vegans have been raised on her recipes, fed by Isa’s no-nonsense approach to cooking and wry, irreverent voice. Her first book, Vegan with a Vengeance, wrought by The Post Punk Kitchen cooking show in an era when mainstream chefs would turn up their noses at anything meatless, was utterly groundbreaking. 21 years later, she hasn’t stopped churning out the hits.

The 29-Minute Vegan: Real Food, Real Vibes, Anytime is the latest addition to this legacy, feeling both timely and timeless in its delivery. More people are cooking at home than ever, but lengthy, complicated projects are off the table. This clearly has the edge on the more common 30-minute meal deals; “everyone could use an extra minute in their day,” as Isa explains. Since I’m guilty of defaulting to 10-minute meals, I’m clearly well-equipped for this sort of speed run. That’s why I’m honored to have helped develop and test recipes for the project. On every glossy page, however, Isa’s brilliance shines through.

Yuba Chick’n Noodle Soup

For a cookbook that’s easy to love, it’s incredibly difficult to know where to start. Encompassing classic comfort foods like Yuba Chick’n Noodle Soup with genuine soul, Caesar Pasta Salad with Tempeh Croutons that puts a heartier twist on traditional leafy affair, and Stovetop Spinach Artichoke Dip that would be the talk of any party, even picky eaters could crack open the book and instantly find something to love.

Roasted Cauliflower Romesco Steaks

Isa’s distinctive style shines most brightly when she fuses the foreign and familiar, like Roasted Cauliflower Romesco Steaks worthy of a gourmet menu, Curry Cauliflower Tacos with Mango Salsa and Coconut Raita which defy definition by any single cuisine, and Tahini Crispy Rice Treats with Date Caramel that would put other bake sale treats to shame.

Buttery Almond French Toast

What further differentiates The 29-Minute Vegan is Isa’s commitment to using whole, unprocessed ingredients. Sure, it would be a breeze to slap together a sandwich with sliced bread, meatless cold cuts, and dairy-free cheese, but you wouldn’t need a recipe for that, now would you? This approach honors the people that actually want to cook, but simply don’t have the time to waste on convoluted prep and performative aesthetics.

Pad Thai Simply To Die For

Making things easier without dumbing them down is the greatest victory of the whole 250+ page compendium. Why make compromises when you can just make things differently, and ultimately, better? It doesn’t take much effort, or, as the title would imply, time.

Eggplant Parmesan Soup

Though I’d sooner eat the actual book, hard-bound spine and all, than choose a single favorite recipe, I’d eagerly nominate the Eggplant Parmesan Soup as a top pick. Isa says it best: “Eggplant parm is one of the first things I started eating when I went vegetarian, and I’m sure I will be making it until my dying days. But I save the whole production for leisurely moments, because I’ve discovered that this soup can actually get me there without all the breading, frying, and clean-up. Tender eggplant, rich tomatoes, and toasted breadcrumbs swim together in a velvety broth, topped with garlicky rustic sourdough croutons. Cheesy, garlicky, satisfying—all the flavors you love with a fraction of the work. But don’t try to put this in a sandwich, you messy bitch.” Even more graciously, she’s agreed to share this winning recipe below, in case you weren’t already sold.

Black-Eyed Pea Bolognese

Ordinarily, I’d say that The 29-Minute Vegan is a cookbook you should always keep on the kitchen shelf, but that misses the mark. You’ll want to use it so often, it’ll never have a proper resting place.

Continue reading “Every Minute Counts”

De Nada; You’re Welcome

“You’re welcome” is typically heard as a response, reflexive and impersonal, to any verbal show of gratitude. De Nada Cantina implies a fuller understanding: you are welcome.

Crispy Mushroom Picadillo Taco

Putting hospitality first, De Nada believes that when you put people first, the rest will follow. Judging by the nearly unanimous raves for their original downtown Austin location, they’ve got that equation right. As founder Stephen Shallcross explains it, “Hospitality is about taking care of people. We believe in hospitality. It doesn’t mean treating anyone, be they vegans, or gluten-free, or wheelchair users, as special. Everyone should be taken care of equally. It’s in our DNA to take care people, in the dignity of all people.”

Stephen Shallcross, owner of 2 Dine 4 Hospitality Group, which includes De Nada Cantina, Sawyer & Co., SWOOP House, Lil’ Easy Cajun Food & Bar, and 2 Dine 4 Fine Catering

Expanding into a larger kitchen in their newly opened South 1st location, the already accommodating menu has expanded accordingly. Myriad meatless options showcase the inherent richness of whole foods, seasoned with the same care and attention given to prime cuts. The mushroom picadillo in particular, developed through multiple trials and many revisions, is a shining example of that commitment. Layers of spices blended so harmoniously that it’s impossible to tease them apart are infused into every molecule of the humble fungus, swaddled in soft, handmade blue corn tortillas, or crispy hard shells if you’d prefer a nostalgic American flourish.

Vegan Enchiladas

Vegetarian enchiladas aren’t victims of subtraction after being converted to veganism. Creamy green pipián sauce blankets the bundle lavishly, as if those pumpkin seeds are channeling the very spirit of sour cream. Even the refritos negros, otherwise unremarkable black beans, dazzle with depth that has an uncanny cheesy undertone. It’s the kind of thing that anyone could enjoy, without even realizing they’ve eaten a vegan meal.

Camote Taco

What began as trying to accommodate friends and family turned into a genuine passion for making plant-based foods. John Mackey, co-founder of Whole Foods Market, was an early supporter and client, who really started the wheels turning. His signature can be seen all over the catering menus, which are additionally low-sodium and almost entirely oil-free.

Frozen Margarita

Don’t worry, if you’re just here for the comfort food, no one is about to give you a lecture about healthy living here. That piece of the puzzle is incidental to simply starting with quality ingredients and not messing them up. There’s still plenty of spirit behind the bar when you want to let loose. Crowned the best margarita by The Austin Chronicle now three years running, frozen or on the rocks, large or slightly less large, these drinks do not mess around. The way that happy hour deals bring crowds in droves is self-explanatory.

Verduras Taco

In 2026, accommodation is out; inclusion is in. Everyone is truly welcome here.

De Nada Cantina

1302 S 1st St.
Austin, TX 78704

Cream Cheese of the Crop

Tofutti walked so that plant-based dairy as we know it could run. Heralding in a new era of soy alternatives before the word “tofu” even registered with American eaters, visionary David Mintz began his frozen dessert company back in 1981. Catering to the kosher community, Mintz was in the right place at the right time to ride the wave of veganism as awareness and interest skyrocketed.

Non-dairy ice cream pints begat ice cream sandwiches, the legendary Tofutti Cuties that captivated me from the earliest days of my own vegan ventures. Though the number of flavors have dwindled and few stores west of New York carry them anymore, Cuties are still alive and well today. Tofutti is therefore responsible for both the second and third product reviews posted on BitterSweet, the latter of which turned out to be their enduring legacy, beyond dessert: cream cheese.

A Lasting Legacy

Tofutti Better Than Cream Cheese has undergone a number of revisions since its introduction in the early 90s. At one point, a separate Non-Hydrogenated version was developed and sold alongside the original, eventually overtaking its predecessor as overall nutrition faced greater scrutiny. More recent innovations include whipped and flavored cream cheeses, though I’ve only seen these available for purchase online. The Plain Better Than Cream Cheese still stands tall in mainstream grocery stores across the country. Where other brands fail and vegan options flag, I can always count on finding a tub of the classic.

Review Revival, Twenty Years Later

Revisiting my initial review from twenty years ago, I couldn’t help but wonder if Tofutti cream cheese still measured up. Right out of the gate, differences started stacking up. It appears that the spread has gained a bit more fat, as we all tend to do as we age, to the tune of an additional 30 calories per serving. Unbothered by the addition, which merely makes it comparable to conventional dairy-based options, I plunged in, bread at the ready.

Unsavory Impact

Immediately, I’m hit with a discordant note, an off-flavor that doesn’t quite fit with the rest. No, this is not cream cheese, it reasserts with every bite, slowly stepping back as your taste buds adjust. For lack of a better description, it strikes me as brown, perhaps subtly beany and nutty, without the wholesome, organic connotations that should bring. There’s no tanginess to speak of, not even a hint of gentle sourness or acidity, which I would have expected from the genuine article. It’s also strikingly sweet; much sweeter than I remember.

Served straight-up, unadorned, it’s not quite pulling its weight as a savory schmear worthy of a proper Jewish delicatessen. Texturally, however, this spread is unassailable. Luscious, silky smooth, slightly slippery, and thick enough to pile on high, the mouthfeel alone makes it worth the price of entry.

Still Sweet On This Spread

Am I wrong for wanting more from this old-school brand, which ultimately prides itself in staying true to its roots? In fact, Tofutti was always my go-to recommendation, not for noshing straight, but for baking. Better Than Cream Cheese was at the heart of my award-winning cheesecake, every decadent swirl of cream cheese frosting, countless truffles, ice cream bases, and even cookies. That inherent sweetness makes it a seamless match for every dessert you can think of. Time and again, I’ll fill my cart with baking staples, Tofutti cream cheese riding in front.

Mixed Results

Ultimately, no, it’s not the same as it once was, though that’s not to say it should be left in the past. We are not the same as we were either, twenty years ago. It pains me to admit that it’s not my favorite across the board, despite all the good it’s done over the years. In desserts and sweet treats, I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend the brand with genuine conviction. But, viewed holistically as a savory spread to top bagels, compared to the competition, Tofutti is no longer making a schmear that’s Better Than Cream Cheese.

Cook This Book: The Essential Einkorn Cookbook

Einkorn is still an enigma to many, lingering on the fringes of the modern food world like a half-remembered story; vaguely familiar and intriguing, but rarely invited into the daily routine. The Essential Einkorn Cookbook by Katie Koyle is exactly the lens needed to bring this grain into sharp focus, pulling back the curtain to reveal einkorn’s remarkable versatility in the contemporary kitchen.

Unlike trend-driven cookbooks that position ancient grains as novelties, likely to be forgotten when the next superfood craze rolls around, Koyle’s approach is refreshingly grounded. She treats einkorn not as a curiosity to be decoded, but as a staple to be understood. As a crucial part of the team at Grand Teton Ancient Grains, Koyle has spent years working intimately with this original wheat in all its permutations, and that fluency shows on every page. She knows how einkorn behaves, where it resists, and how to coax out its best qualities without force or fuss.

Though this is not a vegan or vegetarian cookbook, the guidance it offers transcends dietary lines. The foundational information, such as how einkorn absorbs liquid differently, why it prefers gentler handling, and how its golden hue signals richness rather than density, applies to anyone willing to experiment. Even recipes that include animal products are written with a technical clarity that makes them easy to adapt, making this book a valuable resource for adventurous eaters of all kinds.

The baking chapters are where einkorn truly shines, and Koyle wisely leans into that strength. Her focaccia (page 53) is a standout: plush and tender with a crumb that manages to be both airy and satisfying, its flavor deeper and more complex than versions made with conventional white flour. Einkorn’s natural sweetness comes through subtly, pairing beautifully with olive oil and herbs without collapsing into a heavy, overly dense dough. It’s the kind of bread that disappears quickly, torn by hand and eaten warm, with or without embellishment.

The pumpkin muffins (page 99), crowned with a generous crumb topping, are another highlight. Einkorn’s softness lends itself beautifully to quick breads, producing muffins that are moist without being gummy and richly flavored with the barest measure of sugar for balance. I love that it calls for a full can of pumpkin puree, not some trifling half-measure for the sake of color, and you only need to substitute the two eggs with 1/2 cup of applesauce to reap the fully vegan rewards. The crumb topping, when made with dairy-free butter, adds a certain decadence that straddles the line between nourishment and indulgence, equally suited to breakfast, afternoon coffee, or a late night snack.

Outside of the oven, einkorn proves its adaptability. Chicken and dumplings (page 125) offers a reminder that ancient grains are not confined to rustic loaves and pastries. The dumplings, tender and flavorful, hold together with grace, absorbing the broth while maintaining their structure. It’s a snap to swap in your favorite meatless protein and vegetable stock to make it effortlessly plant-based.

What makes The Essential Einkorn Cookbook especially successful is its humility and pragmatism. Koyle never oversells einkorn, nor does she shy away from its quirks. Instead, she offers practical wisdom, gentle reassurance, and recipes that work as an invitation rather than a challenge. It should also be said that the photography, shot by Koyle herself, is truly stunning, emphasizing texture, color, and process over polish. It’s equally inspirational and aspirational, especially to anyone that’s more of a visual learner.

For anyone curious about baking beyond conventional wheat, or simply looking to deepen their relationship with the ingredients they already love, this book is both a guide and a companion. Einkorn may be ancient, but in Koyle’s experienced hands, it feels entirely alive, ready to earn its place at the table, one loaf, muffin, and dumpling at a time.

This post was made possible as a collaboration with Grand Teton Ancient Grains. My opinions can not be bought and all content is original. This page may contain affiliate links; thank you for supporting my blog!

Newman’s Old Cookies

Twenty years is an incredibly long time when it comes to the lifespan of most products, and even the brands themselves. Combing through the archives to revisit the blog’s first years of life, it’s striking just how few of my earliest review features are still on the market. Rest in peace, my beloved Sweet & Sara marshmallows. May your memory be a blessing, Sunergia soy feta. Until we meet again, Luna tea cakes. I’ll see you in hell, Righteously Raw bars. I could go on, but there was one remarkable finding that snapped me out of that sad spiral: the very first thing I ever reviewed is still on store shelves, nationwide, to this day.

Newman-O’s, one of the earliest “healthy” Oreo doppelgangers that told us it was okay to eat cookies as long as they were organic, seems largely unchanged after two decades. The biggest difference is the label, bold and colorful, redesigned to capture what little attention spans shoppers have left. I thought this was the perfect opportunity to reopen my investigation to see if they still hold up to scrutiny.

Newman’s Own Organics launched the iconic Newman-O’s in 1993, the first line to expand the company’s offerings beyond their initial dressings and sauces. In addition to the Original sandwich crèmes up for re-examination today, additional flavors include Chocolate Crème, Mint, Peanut Butter, Strawberry, and Vanilla. Sadly, Ginger-O’s quietly disappeared from store shelves post pandemic, never to return. Of course, this was my favorite one. Yet again, my approval seems to be the ultimate kiss of death.

Oreo is said to be the world’s best-selling cookie, though Newman-O’s are hardly concerned about competing or dominating in any arena. 100% of the profits go to charity, which should make it a bit easier to swallow the $6.99 – 9.99 price tag, which is easily two or three times more than “America’s Favorite” cookie. Ostensibly, you’re paying for quality; organic flour and sugar, and no trans fats, high‑fructose corn syrup, or partially hydrogenated oils. Does it all add up when it comes to flavor, though?

Yes and no.

Yes, this is a solid sandwich cookie. Crisp chocolate wafers enclose a creamy white filling, balancing out the subtly bitter edge of the cocoa with a blast of vanilla frosting sweetness. They dissolve easily when dunked in non-dairy milk, melting away in the mouth without leaving a greasy residue. The two halves cleave away cleanly, satisfying for anyone that prefers to deconstruct their dessert to eat the components separately. Uncomplicated, they’re easy to love at any age.

No, it’s not vastly different from the experience of eating an Oreo. Maybe it’s the placebo effect that lends them the impression of having a cleaner finish and flavor, or that you can feel better about making a “smarter” choice. Eaten side by side, without the respective logos embossed on top, it might be difficult to tell them apart. That, however, is honestly a win for Newman. To offer the same addictive qualities as such a well-loved cookie, without sacrificing quality ingredients is a certain kind a coup.

I’m amazed, impressed, and relieved that Newman-O’s remains exactly as I remember it from my first foray into reviewing food. Before sponsorship, work for trade, influencers, and all the other noise muddying up the field, this is one I chose to buy with my own money, and still do.