Someday, someone is going set up a camera in my place. At least I hope so. Because over the last three years, I can safely say that the craziest things have happened to me. I’ve often toyed with writing a book about it, but no one would believe me, and it would quickly get tossed into the fiction bin, dismissed as folly. Oddly, I’ve been finding comfort in the easy-listening music of James Taylor, who seems to understand what I am going through, as he gently reassures me that, indeed, all is okay – because I’ve got a friend.


In addition to JT, as I’ve taken to calling him, I also find security in Asian food. I’m not entirely comfortable with the term “comfort food,” but I have to admit that whenever something isn’t going the way I hope (or the way any sane person would hope), I am rejuvenated eating a bowl of bò bún (Vietnamese cold noodle bowls, as they’re called in France), or gai lan (Chinese broccoli). Perhaps because I come from San Francisco, where Asian food is seamlessly integrated into our culinary consciousness, a bowl of noodles or Asian greens makes me happy. (Although a well-timed pain au chocolat has a similar effect.)


Recently, I found out that I’ll be doing an event with Joe Yonan, a really super fellow. And if he didn’t live three thousand miles away, I’d be able to rely on his cheery presence more often than I do (and more often than Mr. Taylor), to make me feel better. Fortunately, I have his latest book in my kitchen, which is the next best thing.


Eat Your Vegetables is a compendium of vegetarian-based recipes for solo cooks and diners. While the recipes entice (I’ll get to those in a minute), I love the way he has scattered lots of quick tips and pointers for being more efficient in the kitchen throughout the book cheap designer sunglasses.


For example, there is a soup recipe that is garnished with pickled beets. To save time – and dishes – Joe has you cook the beet in the soup liquid. When it’s done, you peel the beet and pickle it. Then you serve it with the finished soup. Nifty, huh? And since I can never get enough of anything pickled, I quickly made a batch of his pickled raisins to go along with a pot of carnitas that I served this weekend. (Along with some pickled red onions…)


There’s a whole chapter called Storing and Using Up Extra Ingredients with spot-on tips about what to do with a leftover half can of beans, a trick for preserving a sliced avocado so it doesn’t brown, and how to deal with the bane of every solo cook: leftover celery. And his six-page essay about relying on your senses should be required reading for any cook who needs prodding to trust her instincts. Joe put into words exactly how I feel about cooking and baking Teeth whitening.


I’m eager to try his Quick Pot of Brown Rice (page 177), which has become my nemesis since I picked up a bag at the Asian store and brought it home, drawing scowls from my Frenchman. Determined to prove him wrong, I bookmarked a fail-proof recipe floating around online. However, when I made it, it confirmed my Frenchman’s fears about le riz complèt (brown rice). But I trust Joe, so his version is next on my docket.

What fixated me most was Joe’s recipe for Marinated and Baked Tofu, which promised tofu that was crisp on the outside, and soft on the inside. Which just happens to be the way I like it. Not to get on a soapbox, but who doesn’t like crispy food? Even if tofu isn’t on your list of likes, this recipe will put it there Office Interior Design.