(Look! A tempehst is brewing!)
Today we stare down our obstreperous stovetop to bring you a tempeh dish prodigally pilfered from this well-adjusted person’s website for the purpose of bringing it down to our maladjusted level because, damn it, even those of us who are Failing at Living (with apologies to the estimable Ms. Gonick) deserve tempeh.
And, oh look, it’s vegan, which inevitably turns our thoughts to Noted Vegans, which inevitably turns our thoughts to an Especially Noted Purported Vegan, none other than His Purple Badness: The Prince Formerly Known as a Symbol. Prince of course inevitably turns our thoughts to the piece of cinematic excellence known as Purple Rain, featuring the notorious triad of The Kid, Apollonia, and The Kid’s Hubris.
Apollonia is the sort of girl who will never end up alone: she’s pretty! She’s nice (in that nothing so irksome as a spine ever rears its ugly head in her dealings with The Kid)! She performs “Sex Shooter” in her underwear! In public!
For all of the aforementioned reasons, she wins the Grand Prize in the form of a tempestuous—look, there’s our theme!—relationship with The Kid. And his hubris! Let’s take a brief inventory of the many benefits Apollonia reaps from this association:
· Being persuaded to dunk her naked self in the waters of Faux Lake Minnetonka
· Creepy first encounters in clubs that we suspect are supposed to portray The Kid and his hubris as Enigmatic Artists, but succeed primarily in portraying The Kid and his hubris as creepy (Sunglasses indoors? Really?)
· Scandalous barn antics
· A guided tour of The Kid’s (and his hubris’) doll collection!
· Dangerous motorcycle pranks
· The kind of roughing up that says “I love you” like nothing else can
Oh, Apollonia, you might not own a spine, but you will never own cats, either. Better a tempest than a shrew, yes?
It is in this spirit that we present you with Tempestuous Tempeh.
Tempestuous Tempeh (mal-appropriated and maladapted from 101cookbooks.com)
1 C. orange juice (the original recipe calls for freshly squeezed, but you as a solo diner are far too absorbed in the screaming void that is your existence to trifle with such things, and are thereby exempt)
1 T. minced ginger, or more to taste (we probably used about 3 T.)
2 t. soy sauce
1.5 T. mirin
2 t. maple syrup
½ t. ground coriander
2 large garlic cloves, crushed
8 oz. package tempeh
Generous smattering of olive oil
Measure out the orange juice in a measuring cup. Add the minced ginger, soy sauce, mirin, maple syrup, coriander, and garlic. Stir ingredients and abandon for greener pastures (as you have been many times over).
Greener pastures, in this instance, concern chopping the tempeh into bite-sized pieces, which is a refreshing change of pace from a twenty-two-year-old secretary. Or so we hear tell.
Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat (that’s # 6, you electric stove owners, you). Add tempeh and cook for five minutes or until the bite-sized underbellies are golden. Flip the tempeh and repeat the process with the other side, cooking for five minutes.
Come crawling back to your orange juice concoction (you bastard) and beg its forgiveness. Allow its refusal to fall on deaf ears and use it to douse the frying tempeh. Simmer this hot mess for ten minutes or until the orange juice concoction is distilled into a lugubrious glaze.
Serve to the Righteous One (the Righteous One invariably being oneself) with a smattering of lime juice, if so inclined, in honor of purification by the waters of Lake Minnetonka.