Seitan Doesn't Live in Hell

Seitan is chopped up, fried pieces of wheat gluten so for those of you word purists please take note that I understand the difference and will merrily proceed referring to any wheat gluten based product to be seitan. That said, you know when you go to a Buddhist vegetarian restaurant and they have all these non-meat meat dishes and you find yourself ordering out of curiosity and then asking your friend to lean over and pinch you while tasting a tiny bite of the Crispy Peking notsoducky Duck! Well, yeah, you thought it was some soy shit, didn’t you? Well, it isn’t; it’s wheat gluten and it’s delicious.

I have been a tofu eater ever since I discovered its authentic use in the kitchen of my Chinese American best friend in High School. While she described her mother as an only slightly decent cook, I felt that her mother was the keeper of countless culinary secrets, not the least of which was what we fondly called “spitting tofu.” The tofu her mother used must have been kept in secret corners of Asian Grocery Stores because I have never encountered anything like it in Whole Foods. The spongey tofu must be too fantastic for the Western World and we must be forced to spend at least 1000 years or so with silken and firm tofu before we’re ready to graduate to anything else. So the spitting tofu just simmered in a huge pot of beef broth with hard boiled eggs for an entire day. The resulting delicacy (if taken on a multiple bite basis) would launch scalding hot liquid across the room, and not even the risk of burning oneself or one’s friend could stand in the way of consuming sponge after sponge of it.

So I say all that to say, I have been eating tofu for years in ways that even most Westerners haven’t experienced. So upon recently becoming a vegetarian, I felt I had thoroughly explored the soy-based meat alternatives long before necessity had demanded it. My love affair with tempeh was short lived and a little forced after I discovered its limited use and how unmeat-like it truly was. For most yuppie DINKs, enlightenment can frequently strike in yoga class or in the aisles of Whole Foods after yoga class or perhaps in the aisles of Whole Foods on the way to yoga class or crazier still in Yoga Class in the aisles of Whole Foods. And even though, I was not on my way to or from yoga class, I was in the alternative meat section on the perimeter aisle of a Whole Foods in a very yuppie part of San Francisco (honestly, how can one avoid it). There before me was this strange box with a brown marinated chunk of something straining against a plastic wall - a humble box of seitan. Had it eyes, they surely would have implored a closer look. Had it a mouth, it surely would have demanded attention. My ever active imagination decided to indulge in a quick scan of the ingredients in order to address the puppy dog in the window quality of its strange contents.

Wheat Gluten, eh? If I suspend the horror of gluten allergies that have plagued a few of my friends, I might actually feel a ping or three of interest here. (Pause for more the slow reading of a slow reader ) No shit! This entire package only has 3 grams of fat and 300 calories?! SOLD! SOLD! SOLD!

Ah, the coercive powers of low calorie, low fat foods win again! The package was added to the multi-hundred dollar pile in the cart and the salivary glands began their secretions of curiosity. The hipster in charge of tallying my debt at the check-out counter found it necessary to question the intended use of my parsnips but absentmindedly passed the box of seitan across the machine with the piercing red gaze and calculator brain. Apparently, a parsnips culinary contributions trumps the seitan’s in the interesting department.

I am nothing if not dutiful and often to a fault. While dutiful to many many masters, in this case, I am dutiful to the epicurean masters of taste and science. Upon (also dutifully) putting away the various groceries, I went straight to the unreliable educator, the internet, to learn myself good! Mostly I needed to see how this seitan would behave in various states of cook. Would it be offended and dry up in a frying situation? Would it vehemently protest the marinating process? Would it go on strike if braised?

I quickly discovered seitan performed very similarly to tofu in most preparations, but much unlike tofu it was insanely simple to make your own at home.

As an aside, I am one who is full of self-doubt and have sincere issues with efficacy. I have been known to have interests sparked and instantly shelve them for years borne out of simple fear. My brain sparks and spits and fires all the time, but it is a rare moment for any of those sparks to burst into flames of experience. Snuffing and extinguishing are the typical responses to these little inspirations. So the words “seitan is very quickly and simply prepared in the home” sent showers of sparks all over the reluctant convolutions of my white and grey matter. As is typical, I didn’t expect this interest to ever see the gas flames of my kitchen stove in any span of time.

I would guess nearly a month, perhaps even two passed of filling my cart and stomach with store-bought seitan before I again found myself on the internet researching various meat alternatives. Again my eye was caught by seitan and its simple preparations. I resolved that this was my day. This was my day to learn a new skill. I was going to evaluate just how simple and easy this simple and easy preparation actually was.

It turns out the process really is just that simple. The actual seitan can be made with just two ingredients: vital wheat gluten and water. This chewy mess would be mostly bland and in dire need of some heat, but it was already at its very essence seitan. I had three different recipes pulled up on my screen and decided I would create my own greatest hits recipe. I mixed nutritional yeast flakes, cayenne pepper, and vital wheat gluten as the dry mix. The liquid comprised amounts of water, tamari, crushed garlic, tomato paste, and a dash of aged balsamic.

You just throw all that shit together and you have a springy, weird mass of brown. I had to look up what knead meant because I was meant to knead this mess for three minutes and then let it sit. While it sat there, meditating like a good Buddhist meat substitute, I prepared the braising broth with ten cups of water, vegetable bouillon, onions, ginger, and ever more tamari.

All it took, was an hour in the simmering liquid for the weird brown mass (which had now been cut into three smaller but still weird pieces) to grow and exaggerate the established weirdness. The smell was luxurious and inviting. I had fucking made my own meat substitute in my own kitchen with my own pots and my own improvised recipe. Who was this person?! I wanted to get on the phone with 1989 and call Jan Can Cook and let him know who was in charge now!

Ever the hesitant self-congratulator, I felt it was still necessary to prepare a meal with this creation before any more compliments could be distributed. So with the furtive haste established by the habitual throwing together of seitan-related dishes I came to the stove with my own JOSH brand of seitan. Well, I can safely say that it was tasty and satisfying and downright enviable.

I must admit, I haven’t been much prouder in recent years. Not just because I took a risk and tried something new, but because I bucked so many traditions all at once. I not only allowed my curiosity to flourish but even found a way to satiate its needs. I don’t say this often and if I do say it it’s usually with more than just an ounce of sarcasm but here I say it with complete self-confidence without a hint of irony - GO ME!!