Tofu is a remarkable ingredient.
In addition to being easy to work with, super-satisfying, and exceptionally affordable (it starts at $2–3 a pound), the bean curd’s fresh, clean profile plays well with myriad flavors—from savory to sweet and everything in between.
But tofu has another characteristic that’s less recognized, at least in this country. It has the ability to adopt a huge array of textures—not just when it’s produced, but also during cooking.
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Asian cuisines excel at exploiting this quality. Hot, dry methods such as searing, baking, and grilling are commonplace here.
But Asian preparations typically employ moist methods like braising, steaming, or poaching, or hybrids of dry and moist methods. These gentler approaches capitalize on tofu’s chameleonlike nature and showcase its custardy properties.
Chinese braised tofu is a textbook example: The dish, a mainstay in restaurant and home kitchens alike, involves frying tofu before briefly simmering it in a savory liquid. The result is a joy to eat, with each piece offering a lightly chewy exterior encasing a velvety interior.
Once you start learning about tofu, you’ll open up a whole new world of textures.
—Chef, YouTuber, and restaurateur Lucas Sin
Outside In
Before sketching out my own recipe, I gave Lucas Sin a call. The chef, YouTuber, and restaurateur pointed out that because tofu is saturated with water, many recipes call for pressing it prior to cooking to expel as much moisture as possible. Not only does pressing take time, he said, but it can be detrimental since it can dry out the curd too much.
Frying is a more controlled way to expel water. As tofu sizzles in oil, the water droplets near its surface exit via evaporation, leaving behind small holes through which flavorful liquids can enter. And the moisture at the interior? That stays put, so the curd is luscious and juicy.
Sin reminisced about his mom’s oyster sauce tofu—a “classic home-style” no-recipe recipe that fits into the fry-then-braise rubric. She often whipped it up as a comforting after school snack.
After pan-frying tofu, she’d pour in oyster and soy sauces, chicken broth, and a few other seasonings and let everything simmer for a few minutes. As it braised, the tofu’s thin, golden crust was softened by the dark liquid. Meanwhile, the interior held on to a neutral creaminess.
I planned on bulking up my braise with lots of vegetables for a quick meal to serve with rice, and I’d come up with my own signature sauce.
What the Fry-Braise Method Does for Tofu
Tofu’s internal structure is like a sponge of tightly knit protein, with the holes in the sponge filled with water. All that water makes it hard for the bean curd to absorb flavor without a little assistance. Pan-frying slabs of tofu before braising them drives off surface moisture and makes the texture near the surface more porous. (It also creates a delectable golden-brown skin.) This means the exterior of the curd can readily absorb the flavorful braising liquid, while the interior stays neutral.
Curd Appeal
The first decision when you’re working with tofu is which style to choose.
In China and Japan, you can source dozens of products in the tofu category, but here in the States, I opted for the ubiquitous firm kind; the sturdy curd won’t break apart between a pair of chopsticks, but it’s still plenty tender.
I cut a 14-ounce block into 1/2-inch-thick squares and let the pieces hang out on paper towels to remove surface moisture while I prepped a colorful mix of vegetables: carrots, cut thin on the bias; thinly sliced shiitake caps; whole snow peas; and lengths of scallion greens.
Restaurant chefs fry tofu in a wokful of bubbling oil, but I got the job done with a nonstick skillet and 1/4 cup of vegetable oil.
I fried the pieces on both sides until they developed a tawny, wafer-thin crust and transferred the squares to a paper towel–lined plate.
While they drained, I mixed up an umami-forward braising liquid, starting with stir-fried matchsticks of ginger and thin-sliced scallion whites. Chicken broth (water works well, too, if you prefer to keep things vegan) and soy sauce formed the base of the fragrant, salty sauce; a spoonful of sugar, a pinch of white pepper, and a hit of chili-garlic sauce added depth.
With the liquids in the pan, I slipped in the fried tofu. In minutes, its crust sponged up the sauce and developed a satisfying chew while the inside stayed buttery soft.
Meanwhile, I added the vegetables in sequence: carrots first so they’d cook up tender-crisp; shiitakes next for supple chew; and the scallion greens and snow peas last to retain their grassiness and sweet, snappy crunch.
Tofu Fundamentals
In its simplest form, tofu is a curd that’s made by coagulating fresh, hot soy milk. The result is a protein with a clean, subtly beany taste and—depending on how it is processed—a texture that can span from dreamily smooth and wobbly to tender and curd-like to dense and meaty.
The tofu-making process starts with blending soaked soybeans and water and then boiling and straining the creamy mixture to produce soy milk. Next, a coagulant—traditionally magnesium chloride (also called nigari or bittern), though others may be used—is added. From there, the process diverges to create two main styles: “regular” or silken.
Styles of Tofu
- “Regular” (aka “firm,” “block,” or “cotton”): Once the coagulant is added, the curdled mixture is agitated either by hand or machine to produce small air pockets and a curdy texture. It’s then poured into trays, pressed, submerged in water, and chilled. Depending on how much it is pressed, non-silken tofu can be soft, medium-firm, firm, or extra-firm. The firmer it is, the higher the amount of protein and fat per serving.
- Silken: After the coagulant is incorporated, soy milk that is destined to become silken tofu is neither stirred nor pressed. Instead, it is poured directly into a mold—often, the container it’s sold in—and chilled. Left unstirred, the tofu develops a delicate custardy texture. Depending on the type of coagulant and the setting temperature, silken tofu can be soft, firm, or extra-firm.
Shopping
The flavor and texture of tofu vary widely depending on the soybean variety, the amount and type of coagulant, and freshness. Small-batch, artisanally made tofu is worth seeking out. It tends to have a superior subtly sweet, earthy flavor; the fragrance of freshly cooked soybeans; and a delicately springy texture.
Storage
Store leftovers submerged in water in an airtight container and refrigerate; change the water every day for up to 10 days. (Make sure that the water remains clear; cloudy water can be a sign of bacterial growth. If it develops, the tofu should be discarded.)
Braised Fried Tofu
Our double-cooked tofu takes inspiration from Chinese cooking: We first pan-fry it to create a golden outer crust, then give it a quick braise in a savory, aromatic sauce, which keeps the exterior lightly chewy and the interior creamy and moist.
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