PWAC Victoria: Dave Preston, Writing Sample

The Reading Room

The Secret to Great Sex

by Dave Preston © 1997

The author finally comes out of the closet. Published in Monday Magazine, May 8-14, 1997.

"Ugh! I hate this grey goop. It's awful!" Now, it could be Him Upstairs, my editor, commenting on my column, or our Prime Minister seeing an ultrasound of his brain for the first time, or it could be my family crying in unison whenever I try to serve them tofu.

Yes, it's the latter, and I say "try" because tofu never sits on our table for longer than it takes to open the kitchen window or call the dog (an adaptable, easy-to-please omnivore whatever the occasion). I've tried disguising it, calling it something exotic like "purée of polyfil" and giving it the culinary equivalent of a fake mustache and glasses, but to no avail. They seem to possess an infallible tofu-detector.

Tofu, it seems, is the Barry Manilow of the food world. People will shout their hatred in public without fear of reprisal. Yeah, well not any more! I'm outa the closet on this one as I happen to like tofu and I think it's neat and useful and we should all listen to, I mean eat a lot more of it. (You can stuff Barry Manilow, but I'm not yet ready to come out of the ABBA closet.) And sorry about the sex title, but it's the only way I could get either of you to read about tofu.

Tofu is born of the wonderful soybean, a legume related to clover, peas and alfalfa, of which over 200 commercial varieties are growing in North American fields right this minute. It's the only vegetable that contains complete protein and it's been a hit in China for thousands of years, but you're not convinced yet, eh?

I admit, the name's a little unfortunate. Tofu. Definitely not the fruit of some marketing committee's fertile loins. It would tease well in a bluffing word game, where you have to guess the correct definition. Meanings like "furry stuff found between toes" or "a simple wooden tool used by Aztecs to pulverize nuts" would be convincing. But you'd never guess at "a versatile, nutritious, high-protein curd made from soybeans, containing calcium, iron and gobs of vitamins, and the answer to our planet's food shortage."

Well, Paul Shea would guess right. He runs Dayspring, a small company just across the tracks in Esquimalt, which takes in soybeans from the U.S. and Ontario and turns out about 5,000 pounds of tofu every week. Paul dabbled with soybeans in his native Taiwan, but then went to tofu school (honest, there is one) in Japan, where he learned the high-tech manufacturing methods.

Here's how it works: the beans are soaked in cold tap water for 24 hours, crushed into a paste which then spends two minutes in a pressure cooker at over 100 degrees C. Then it's separated into solids and liquid. The solids, called okara, are grabbed by organic farmers to use as fertilizer, improving their crop yields by 20-50% (it's got a lot of nitrogen and about 17% protein). Those wishing to clip a link off the food chain can eat the high-fibre okara, by baking with it or making sausages.

Meanwhile, the liquid, virgin soymilk, can either be naturally flavoured and sweetened, perhaps with honey, then pasteurized and drunk. Or it can be introduced to a handsome young coagulant, such as magnesium chloride or calcium phosphate, and give birth to curds 20 minutes later. When the curds are rounded up and pressed, the water flows out and they stick together to form an attractive grey goop: tofu. One pound of soybeans will yield about two and a half pounds of tofu, or enough to scare my family out of the kitchen for a whole month.

The more water that is pressed out, the firmer and dryer the tofu will be. Paul currently offers four types and generously wraps them in educational brackets for later use in the kitchen:
Soft
Used for dressings, shakes, soups and desserts. Note: this is the easiest type to slip by tofu-hating folks as it blends into a recipe with barely a trace.
Medium-firm
Good for cubing, mashing or puréeing for dips and entrées.
Firm
Ideal for stir-frys, casseroles and stews.
Extra-firm
Rough, tough stuff that does a good impression of meat and doesn't mind being made into burgers or sausage. It's also good for lasagna and pasta dishes. The extra-firm tofu also occurs in a herb-flavoured form which is good for sprinkling onto pizza, salads and pasta sauces.

Of course, the firmer the tofu, the more concentrated it is. Soft tofu, also called "silken," has about 4% protein while the high-test extra-firm contains around 14%. Whatever the grade, Paul makes a 30-pound slab of it which is then cut up into one-pound blocks to be packed in sealed tubs with filtered water. Ten years ago, nearly all Paul's tofu was firm and sold through health food stores, but now it's out of the closet and onto the big supermarket shelves, where most of his stock is sold. He also sells direct to restaurants and hotels and the local market has grown 15% in the last three years.

Paul takes his tofu ministry on the road and gives classes at Kitchen Etiquette in Oak Bay. Here's a few tips: previously frozen tofu has a spongy texture that absorbs flavour readily; keep your tofu cool; check the expiry date on the package; buy and use it as fresh as possible.

So, are you up for tofu yet? Remember, it's richer in protein than any other food of equivalent weight. It's low in fat, high in calcium, and a good source of iron, phosphorus, potassium, essential B vitamins, choline and fat-soluble vitamin E.

Still not sold? It's cholesterol-free, low in calories and easy to digest. It contains all essential amino acids and offers the bonus of phytochemicals that protect against heart disease and cancer.

Still not convinced. Okay. It's cheap. And liberating. TOFU WILL IMPROVE YOUR SEX LIFE! (Just smear some on your lower portions, such as toes, and get the dog to lick it off.)

There, we're out of the closet.

Dave Preston
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Last updated: May 24, 1997 http://www.islandnet.com/pwacvic/presto07.html