Labor Day. The unofficial end of summer, though Portland does not acknowledge unofficial endings — it will stay warm here until October sometimes, the city clinging to summer the way I cling to the last tomato at the market, knowing it is almost over, eating it slowly, making it count.
We went to Brian's parents' house in Tigard for a barbecue. The Callahan family is large and loud and Irish in the way that means everyone talks at once and no one listens and the food is plentiful and the beer is more plentiful and the love is real even if it sounds like an argument. I sat in the corner with Miya and smiled and answered questions about the baby and the blog and whether I was teaching yoga again and how Brian was doing, and I performed the role of daughter-in-law the way I perform everything — competently, anxiously, with a constant internal monologue that narrates my own social failure in real time.
Brian's mother, Eileen, is kind. She held Miya and cooed at her and told me I was doing a wonderful job, and I believed her because Eileen is incapable of dishonesty, a trait Brian did not inherit. His father, Patrick, grilled burgers and ribs and corn and asked me if I wanted "one of those rice things" I brought last time, which was his way of saying he remembered the onigiri and wanted more. I had brought onigiri. I always bring onigiri. The Callahans have absorbed my onigiri into their barbecue tradition, and this small cultural adoption means more to me than I can express.
I made a Japanese-style potato salad for the barbecue — the kind Fumiko makes, which is creamier and sweeter than American potato salad, with a bit of rice vinegar and thinly sliced cucumber and ham mixed in. It disappeared in ten minutes. Eileen asked for the recipe. I wrote it on a napkin. A recipe traveling from Fumiko's kitchen in Sacramento to a napkin at a Callahan barbecue in Tigard, Oregon — the geography of food is stranger and more beautiful than the geography of anything else.
Driving home, Brian said, "My family loves you." I said, "I know." He said, "Do you love them?" I said, "I love how loud they are. I love that they have one volume and it is maximum. I love that your mother remembers everyone's favorite food." He said, "That didn't answer the question." He was right. It did not. But it was the closest I could get, and Brian, for once, let it be enough.
The potato salad I described — the one that vanished in ten minutes and ended up on a Callahan napkin — is Fumiko’s recipe, and I’m not ready to share it yet; some recipes stay close a little longer. But this tofu salad lives in the same spirit: light, Japanese in its bones, built on sesame and rice vinegar and the kind of clean simplicity that holds its own next to a pile of ribs and charred corn. It travels well, it feeds a crowd, and it always earns at least one “what’s in this?” from someone who didn’t expect to love tofu. That question is the whole point.
Tofu Salad
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 15 min (plus 20 min drain time) | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 block (14 oz) firm tofu, drained and pressed
- 1 medium cucumber, thinly sliced into half-moons
- 3 scallions, thinly sliced
- 1 cup shredded purple cabbage
- 1/2 cup shredded carrots
- 2 tablespoons toasted sesame seeds
- 2 tablespoons soy sauce (or tamari for gluten-free)
- 2 tablespoons rice vinegar
- 1 tablespoon sesame oil
- 1 teaspoon honey or maple syrup
- 1 teaspoon freshly grated ginger
- 1 small garlic clove, minced
- 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
Instructions
- Press the tofu. Wrap the block of tofu in a clean kitchen towel or several layers of paper towels. Place a heavy skillet or cutting board on top and let it press for at least 20 minutes to remove excess moisture. This step is worth it — it keeps the salad from turning watery.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the soy sauce, rice vinegar, sesame oil, honey, grated ginger, and minced garlic until combined. Taste and adjust — add a splash more rice vinegar if you want it brighter, a touch more honey if you want it rounder.
- Cut the tofu. Once pressed, cut the tofu into 3/4-inch cubes. Alternatively, crumble it into rough chunks for a more rustic texture that catches the dressing better.
- Assemble the salad. In a large bowl, combine the tofu, cucumber, scallions, purple cabbage, and shredded carrots. Pour the dressing over everything and toss gently to coat, taking care not to break up the tofu too much.
- Finish and rest. Sprinkle the toasted sesame seeds over the top, and add red pepper flakes if using. Let the salad sit for 5–10 minutes before serving so the flavors settle together. It can also be made up to an hour ahead and refrigerated — it only gets better.
- Serve. Serve cold or at room temperature alongside grilled meats, rice, or anything coming off a backyard grill. It disappears faster than you expect.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 120 | Protein: 8g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 7g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 380mg