A Clove or Not a Clove? That is the Question.

And a Stir Fry Recipe That Doesn't Require You to Know the Answer

Photo by Surya Prakash on Unsplash

Shortly after Shawn and I were married, we took the cold plunge that some newlyweds do and swam our little lives far away from all our friends and family to the unremarkable suburbs of Jacksonville, Florida. It was an idyllic beginning to our marriage because Shawn traveled a lot for his job and the company was okay with me traveling with him. So, during the week we drove up and down the highways and byways of the southeastern US, staying in hotels and eating out every night. And on the weekends, we putzed around our new home and visited with some of our new found friends.

One such duo was a military couple named Brett and Willow who we met at our church. They were a beautiful mixture of no nonsense hippiness: Brett with his buzz cut and starched collars matched somehow perfectly with Willow’s wild curly hair and long billowy dresses. And it was at their table one evening that my taste buds—and eventually my life—were changed forever.

Around the comforts of a regular dining room table, she presented a spread of roasted meats, decadent sauces, sautéed and whipped veggies, and homemade breads that one might expect to be laid before heads of state or royalty. The feast left my head swimming and my appetite begging for more. Every flavor was bigger and better than anything I had ever before placed in my mouth. Stunned and amazed, after the meal I sheepishly asked her where she got her recipes; I knew this wasn’t Taste of Home or Woman’s Day recipe section material. And that’s when she handed me a magazine that would change my life: Bon Appétit.

The very next day I went to the mall bookstore and bought my very own copy of the magazine. And in the weeks and months to come I studied it, as well as every issue that arrived in my mailbox with my new subscription. I read the articles highlighting Michelin-starred chefs from around the globe and poured over the pictures of new restaurants opening their doors in New York and Paris, dreaming of the day when we might visit such places and perhaps afford to share an appetizer or dessert at one of their white-clothed tables. But more than the culinary glitz and glamour, I was really there for the recipes.

Mind you, even their most basic offerings in the “Too Busy to Cook-Timesaving Recipes” section were miles above my pay grade. Once at the beginning of my culinary journey, I went to the grocery store with a list of ingredients for one such “easy” recipe in my hands. The first line item read “garlic clove.” Never in my life had I ever cooked with or even seen a garlic clove. Instinct told me that it would be in the produce section, assuming it was a vegetable of some sort. Thanks be to God for labels because I quickly found the sign that read “Garlic” in amongst the onion display. But when I looked down at what lay beneath the signage, I found myself stumped again. There in a plastic basket were a dozen bulbs that looked like something my mom might plant in her flowerbeds in the fall. Was this a garlic clove?

Because we lived in the unimaginable age before mobile phones existed, I had no way of knowing what it was unless I went to my local library, pulled out the G volume of the Encyclopedia Britannica, and prayed they had an explanation to offer. Perhaps another young woman in the same situation might have called her mother to glean such culinary wisdom. I knew there was no such field of insight in my mom. While she baked chocolate chip cookies and apple pies for which she will be remembered far after her last breath on this earth, her expertise with cooking didn’t extend much past Campbells or Hamburger Helper.

So, I did the next best thing. I swallowed my pride, strode up to the cash register and presented my ball of garlic to the blue eye-shadowed cashier. “Um, do you know if this is a garlic clove?” I asked in a voice just above a whisper. She stared slack-jawed at my open hand before shaking her head and shrugging. “I have no idea,” she replied.

Eventually, I got my answer. I went home and did a little investigative work. I discovered that if I peeled back the oniony skins around the garlic, small pie-shaped pockets began to emerge. My extensive deductive reasoning skills told me that these were indeed the elusive cloves I’d been looking for.

That’s where it all began, friends. And every time I cook with a clove of garlic (which is pretty much every day), I am reminded of those humble beginnings. So today I want to share a recipe with you that packs flavor without any intimidating ingredients for those of you who are just getting your feet wet in the culinary waters. It’s also a fabulous weeknight recipe for when you need dinner on the table in 30 and you don’t want to your hands smelling like garlic for the next month.

Mai’s Beginner’s Stir Fry

I actually created this recipe after one of my daughters told me that she hates when she bites into a piece of ginger when she’s eating my stir fry. So instead of mincing my fresh ginger, I started grating it, but she still had apprehensions. Then one night I was short on time so I concocted this recipe that had none of the threat of an unwanted ginger encounter but all of the flavor my family loved. And no lie, this one can go from the countertop to the dinner table in 30 minutes flat. Which helps when you know that your family is suffering from a veggie deficit that desperately needs to be remedied and you need to act fast. I whipped this gem up the night of trick or treating this year as a preemptive defense against the piles of candy my children would be ingesting in the coming hours. It didn’t stop the candy from coming, but it made me feel better about it all the same.

Sauce ingredients:

2 tbsp. vegetable broth

2 tbsp. mirin (If this ingredient is new to you, it’s a type of rice wine that you can find in your grocery’s ethnic foods section, probably nestled somewhere close to the rice vinegar or soy sauce)

2 tbsp. low-sodium tamari (I really like low-sodium here because otherwise the end result can be a bit salty for my taste, and if it’s too salty for my taste, believe me, it’s too salty for yours)

1 tbsp. agave

1 tbsp. cornstarch

½ tsp. ground ginger

¼ tsp. garlic

1/8 tsp. Chinese five spice powder (I know this is a small amount and you might be tempted to skip over it, but this spice doesn’t require much and it gives a depth of flavor that you would miss without it)

Tofu:

14 oz. organic extra-firm tofu, drained and cut into 1-inch cubes

Salt

Pepper

2 tsp. olive oil (optional)

Stir fry veggies:

1 tsp. sesame oil

1 carrot, sliced

1 red pepper, sliced

1 sm. zucchini, sliced

1 med. onion, sliced

8 oz. mushrooms, sliced

1, 9.5 oz. pkg. Japanese buckwheat noodles cooked according to package directions or 4 cups of cooked brown rice

Instructions:

In a small bowl, whisk together sauce ingredients till thoroughly combined and then set aside.

Now get working on the tofu. You’ve got options here. You could toss your tofu in some olive oil (I usually don’t but if that’s your vibe, go for it), put your tofu on a parchment lined baking sheet, sprinkle with some salt and pepper, and bake it at 375 degrees for 15-20 minutes. This is my preferred method because then it’s out of sight out of mind while I work on the rest of the meal. But if you want to give your tofu a little more TLC, then go ahead and heat some oil in a pan, salt and pepper your tofu, and then fry it up till it’s a luscious gold-brown color. Then set it aside till the grand finale.

Believe it or not, we’re in the homestretch now. Heat up your sesame oil in a wok (or a large skillet) till its nice and hot. Toss in your carrots first and dance them around the pan for a few minutes. We start with the carrots because they take the longest to cook, and we don’t want everything else turning mushy while we wait for them to soften up. After they’ve waltzed around for a good 3-4 minutes, go ahead and add the rest of your veggies. This is where your stir fry gets to be truly that—just stir up the veggies and let them fry at a high heat for the next 5-7 minutes till everything has a crisp tenderness to it.

The grand finale has arrived! Add in your tofu and sauce, and cook for another minute or two, just until the sauce thickens up. Now you can either combine the cooked noodles with the stir fry before serving, or allow your guests to noodle their plates at their own discretion. Whatever you choose, gather up your nutritious bounty, promenade it to the table, pat yourself on the back for a job well done, and dig in!