Have you ever had an authentic San Francisco “tempeh
taco”? They are hearty, healthy,
delicious, and oh so easy to make.
Tempeh Tacos: A vegan, gluten-free bite of goodness! |
I’d love to take credit for the invention of the tempeh
taco, but that honor belongs to my old roommate. If you ever get to San Francisco and manage
to find him, make sure you ask him to whip some up!
Now, I would love to enlighten my clever and efficacious
readers with a tale about how the tempeh taco singlehandedly shaped centuries of British culinary history. Maybe I'd add an epilogue that chronicles the exploits of the tempeh-loving diaspora now in the United States. But I don’t think the British ate very
much tempeh in those days.
However, tempeh-tacos broach another question in the history of
food: the history of “substitutions.” Now,
substitutions are timeless facts of cookery. We
make use of them all the time: when we want something healthier, something
tastier … or when we’re just too lazy to go to the store.
How might one write a history of the substitute?
On the one hand, the substitute provided men of limited
means with vicarious enjoyment that would otherwise be out of their reach. Shortly after turtle feasting took the
British public by storm during the 1750s, “mock turtle” made its culinary
debut. It was made from calves brains
and forced meat and dressed up with a few Creole influences, such as Madeira and
cayenne pepper, to remind people of the real thing. Indeed, mock turtle wasn't all that different
from “calves head hashed:” an older traditional stand-by. It used similar ingredients, similar methods of
preparation and required the same amount of labor to prepare.[1]
Calling the dish “mock turtle,” however, implies some degree of culinary
expertise, a familiarity with real
turtle, and a finished product that is somehow more than the simple sum of its
ingredients. There was nothing
very embarrassing or humiliating about this substitute at all. In fact, it was often served alongside real
turtle!
By the turn of the 19th century, however, it
seemed as if the substitute’s status began to decline. War, a few bad harvests and impending bread
riots prompted social ‘reformers’ to devise all kinds of wacky substitutes for
bread. The pamphlet below, published in
1796, included an entire glossary of underutilized comestibles that that were sure to please the pauper’s palate. "Dogstone" soup, anyone?
Historians of this age have also linked edible substitutions to the abstracted
impersonality of industrial life.[2]
As men and women became increasingly
disconnected from the food they ate, they came to be nourished on spurious
imitations that, in society's eyes, did not even count as
food, robbing them of the last vestiges of humanity.
The reigning king of all substitutes, unquestionably, was
the potato. This is the Irish lumper,
known colloquially as the “famine potato.”
A student recoiled in horror when she saw these warty, mutant potatoes. "However might one peel such a thing?" |
Yet the potato seemed to create even more controversy over
substitutes. Potatoes grew like weeds,
they were easy to store, and they didn’t even require any preparation. In many ways they resembled fast food: simply
boil and serve. Potatoes unarguably
provided a lot of nutritional bang for the buck, yet they raised serious red
flags even for the most well-meaning and morally upstanding 19th century social
reformer. According to the literary critic Catherine Gallagher, there was something a little dirty and blasphemous about the fact that it was the “substitute for the very food that most commonly stood as a signifer for all food.” Second, given the pauper’s overly
picky palate, how could one encourage the poor to choose tubers over
wheat? And last, in a political climate
where the mere sight of a poor person chowing down portended Malthusian
apocalypse, reformers wondered whether all these edible substitutes were really
such a good thing after all.[3]
Alas, noble readers. Have
the processes of industrialization robbed the substitute of its soul? For many Britons, the most visceral (and
painful) reminders of World War II were the fascinating edible inventions ––
margarine, powdered eggs, snoek piquante –– that sought to artificially approximate feelings
of culinary normalcy in war-time.[4] But perhaps we are today turning a culinary
tide in the history of substitutions. After
all, many of today’s most expensive breads now regularly eschew glutinous wheat in favor
of beets, turnips, almonds and rice …. the edible symbols of poverty at the
turn of the 19th century.
How to Make Tempeh Tacos
What you need:
--1 package of tempeh (I like the flax kind from Whole Foods)
--Half of an onion, diced
--A handful of shiitakes, chopped
--A handful of shiitakes, chopped
--Corn tortillas
--Salsa
--Hummus
--Kale
--Pumpkin or sunflower seeds
Sauté your onions, shiitakes and crumbled pieces of tempeh in a skillet
with olive oil. Add add soy sauce in
small intervals and mix vigorously. Add
the kale last to the mixture … it tastes best when it retains a little
crunch. In a separate sauce pan, sauté
some pumpkin seeds in olive oil mixed with a teaspoon of cayenne pepper. Keep your eye on the pumpkin seeds … they’ll
keep browning well after you take them off the heat. Add the tempeh mixture on top of the corn tortilla. Now comes the magic. Reader, I know what you’re thinking … salsa
and hummus … together?! But these contrasting
flavor properties actually work surprisingly well together. If you are lucky enough to live in the Bay
Area, try to snag a bottle of salsa from Papalote
Tacqueria. Spicy, creamy and smooth, this hummus-salsa combination is divine. Top
with your crunchy-spicy cayenne-pumpkin seeds.
Enjoy!
[1]
To compare the two dishes, I drew on a recipe for “Calves Head Hashed” from
Susanna Carter’s The Frugal Housewife (London, 1759) and a recipe for “Mock
Turtle” in Francis Collingwood’s The Universal Cook (London, 1792.) Both call for many of the same ingredients,
are around the same length, and involve the same number of “steps” to prepare
the dish.
[2]
See, for example, Sandra Sherman, Imagining
Poverty: Quantification and the
Decline of Paternalism (Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 2001)
[3] The original, published in 1798, doesn't mention potatoes much, but by the time the 6th edition of the Essay
on the Principle of Population came out in 1817, Malthus had added a bunch of extra sections devoted to potatoes in
Ireland. The potato's many roles in British (and Irish) history are meticulously documented in Redcliffe
Salaman’s The History and Social
Influence of the Potato (Cambridge: University of Cambridge Press, 1949) an
“oldie but a goodie” to say the least.
But my favorite piece of potato-eating scholarship is Catherine
Gallagher, “The Potato in Materialist Imagination” in Practicing New Historicism (Chicago: University of Chicago Press,
2000).
[4] See Lizzie Collingham, The Taste of War: World War II and the Battle for Food (London: Allan Lane, 2011). Also check out Ina Zweiniger-Bargeiolowska's Austerity in Britain: Rationing, Controls and Consumption 1939-1945 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000).
Hurrah for scrumptious substitutes!! Puts me in mind of the Glory Days of British World War II rationing. Mock goose made with lentils and bread crumbs, num num! You, my dear, would find a way to make even war rations deeeeelicious.
ReplyDeleteyummmm!
ReplyDeleteHi India,
ReplyDeleteI have been following your blog with interest and great admiration for your research methods and your tremendous ability to turn up sources which others have ignored. I have just posted a short article that may interest you on my own blog Food History Jottings - Tavern Feasting in Bristol, Christmas 1788. I give a link to your blog at the end of the posting. Get in touch!
Ivan Day
Ivan- Thanks so much for the shout-out on http://foodhistorjottings.blogspot.co.uk/ ! Really loved your latest and greatest on tavern feasting.
ReplyDeleteHeather, Ali ... can't wait to hear about your own tempeh experiments at home!
For more fascinating food historical tidbits, I suggest checking out Ali's blog: http://cliocooks.wordpress.com/ for delicious dungeness-inspired dissertation procrastination