A Portrait of My Mother (and a Less Flattering One of Her Scrambled Eggs)

And Another Installment of Mai Time in the Kitchen: The Show!

Me and My Beautiful Mama, Kathy

A few weeks ago I introduced all of you to my lovely mama during my very first Mai Time in the Kitchen cooking video. In the comments of last week’s post, Karen:) said, “your mom…truly seems like a fun and remarkable woman.” I couldn’t help but love that Karen picked that up from watching my mama cook in my kitchen for 15 minutes.

Because Karen was spot on: my mom is amazing.

I think there is no better litmus test of one’s character than how they behave while on a plane. And it just so happens that my mom worked for the airlines for decades, and she and I have put a lot of sky miles under our belts through the years. And we’ve seen lots of folks fail miserably at this test. But let me explain to you just how my mom would perform in such an examination.

If you were stuck on a 20-hour flight to wherever might be 20 hours from where you live, there are a few things you can expect from my mom as assuredly as you can expect the sun to rise. While everyone else is boarding and finding their seats, she’ll ask you about where you’re from and what you do. If you’re one of those who can’t be bothered to fraternize with your fellow travelers and choose to give her one-word answers, she’ll get the point and leave you to yourself.

But if your blanket falls to the floor while you’re snoozing, she’ll pick it up for you and cover you back up. She won’t need to talk to you for you to feel the comfort in her presence; she just gives that off for free. And when you land at your destination, she’ll help you get your luggage down from the overhead bin, wish you safe travels, and send you off with a cheerful smile. Your trip will be better for simply having sat beside her during it.

Now, if you don’t snub her at the beginning of your flight, then, my friend, you in for the “Kathy Silva Special.” She’ll ask you about your family, what books you’re reading, what you plan to do once you get to wherever you all are flying to. Guaranteed, before everyone else has finished their first movie, you’ll have cried into your beverage napkin, unloading some heavy burden that’s on your heart to my mama because that’s what people do around her—they bare their souls. But it’s okay because she’s a safe space. If you want her to, she’ll pray for you, but she isn’t pushy about it. And whether you believe in prayer or not, the words she’ll say to you, phrases like “You can do this,” or “There is a special plan for your life” or “This too shall pass so you just hang in there,” will feel sacred nonetheless.

By the end of the flight, you will consider my mom one of your best friends. You’ll have exchanged phone numbers, addresses, and selfies. And be assured that she will not forget you after you deboard the plane and go your separate ways. She will call you. In fact, you might just see her number come up on your phone a year later, and answer it to find that she’s in your town because, well, she’s always going everywhere. She’ll offer to take you out for lunch. You will meet her at a cafe and talk for 3 hours, and your ho-hum day will do a complete 180 and you’ll feel as light as air and happy as honey after your lunch together because that’s what my mama does. She makes people feel seen. She makes people feel special.

You might wonder why I am sharing all this with you, and I come to that point now. I’ve attached this prologue because I in no way want what comes next to cause you to think that I don’t love my mother or overlook her many giftings.

But while my mother is loving and caring, she is also human.

From the time I was 5 years old to my senior year of high school, my mother believed whole-heartedly that no child should ever go to school with anything less than a warm meal in their belly, which, no doubt, is a noble philosophy in and of itself. However, since my mom’s favorite breakfast staple was eggs and toast, that was what my brothers and I were served for almost every morning of our school-aged years. This is not hyperbole, friend. This is the God’s honest truth.

Now, in case you are envisioning pillow-soft clouds of pasteled eggs served with a sprig of parsley atop them and thick farmhouse bread slathered in soft, sweet butter and homemade jam beside them, let me paint a more accurate picture for you.

My mom isn’t exactly a morning person. She gets out of bed at a decently early hour, but she isn’t fit for company till about noon. Thus, I imagine she was still sleep-walking while she cooked our breakfast each day, because there is no other reasonable explanation for the dry, rubbery scramble she scraped onto our Corelle plates accompanied by burnt toast topped with cold, unspreadable butter and grocery-grade grape jelly.

Let me tell you, that kind of uninspired culinary repetition can wear on a person’s taste buds. And it did on mine. For nearly a decade after graduating from high school, I never touched a scrambled egg. There were just too many memories. Thankfully, in the subsequent years, I worked through that baggage and was eventually able to stomach the occasional plate of eggs. Then, when I started focusing on eating a wfpb diet, I discovered scrambled tofu. It had all the wonderful flavor of its eggy counterpart with none of the bad vibes from my childhood.

So for my next installment of “Mai Time in the Kitchen: The Show!,” I take you step by step through my Veggie Scrambled Tofu, share a bit about my first date with tofu (which involves a seedy Chinese restaurant in Piqua, Ohio) and briefly revisit those egg-riddled days of my childhood. Click on the link below to watch this week’s video and scroll down for the print version of the recipe.

Friends, it’s time to get cookin’!

Veggie Scrambled Tofu

Ingredients:

1/2 c. vegetable broth, for sautéing

1/4c. onion, finely chopped

1 garlic clove, minced

1 c. fresh vegetables chopped (This concoction is up to you. I usually use peppers and mushrooms, but sometimes I throw in some tomatoes as well. I imagine zucchini or yellow squash would be tasty. Oh, or even some broccoli. Really, the combinations are endless. Just have fun with it)

14 oz. extra firm tofu, well-drained (If you are a tofu novice and have no clue where to even find the stuff in a grocery store, it’s usually located somewhere in the produce section, usually close to the refrigerated salad dressings. But if you can’t find it there, don’t turn tail and run, giving up on the whole adventure. Do like what my mama taught me—just put on your big girl pants and ask an employee)

1 tbsp. tamari (You can also use soy sauce here, if you’re in a pinch. Tamari tends to be less salty than soy sauce and has a richer flavor, but sometimes you have to go with what your fridge has to offer)

1 tbsp. nutritional yeast (As promised in my video, I did some research about nutritional yeast so click here for a helpful link that sings all its praises)

1/2 tsp. turmeric

1 generous handful of fresh spinach (Or a measly handful or none at all if that’s the kind of mood you’re in. You get to call the shots, bub)

Instructions:

Heat a large saucepan over medium heat. Once it’s had a minute or so to warm, add a few lugs of your broth to the pan; it should sizzle when you add it. Toss in your onions and garlic and let them sauté for a few minutes in the broth, softening up. When the onions look like they’ve ready for some company, add in your chopped fresh veggies.

Keep in mind the cooking times for the veggies you are using. If you have crunchier vegetables like peppers and broccoli, add those first, let them start to soften up, and then add your more heat sensitive choices like mushrooms and tomatoes. If the pan starts to look dry, add in a few more lugs of broth to get the sizzle back.

You don’t need to give your sensitive guys much time to cook before crumbling in your tofu, maybe a minute or two, because they’ll get more cooking time while your tofu warms and soaks up the flavors. With the tofu in the pan and everything cooking along joyfully, add in the tamari and turmeric. Another minute or so of stirring and coaxing will do before tossing in your spinach. Cook just until the spinach wilts to the degree you like (about 1-2 minutes), then plate up your scramble and get yourself tucked in.

Breakfast is served!

Serves 3-4.