August arrived and brought with it the thing I've been dreading since June: back-to-school shopping. Not the buying — I can manage the buying, I have a spreadsheet, I have coupons, I have the organizational instincts of a woman raised by Denise Cooper. It's the being-in-public-for-sustained-periods that gets me. Target on a Saturday in August is a war zone of fluorescent lights and panicked mothers and children running their hands across every backpack on the wall, and I am one of those panicked mothers except my panic is not about pencil boxes. My panic is the kind that lives in my chest and tightens when there are too many people and too much noise and too many women with babies in their carts.
Brandon came. I didn't ask him to. He just got in the van Saturday morning and said, "I'll push the cart." That's the Brandon language of love — not words, not grand gestures, just showing up with his hands ready. He pushed the cart. Noah rode in the front. Lily picked a backpack with butterflies. Mason picked one with a dinosaur. Olivia deliberated for eleven minutes — I timed it, the accountant never sleeps — and chose a plain navy one that she'll keep immaculate all year because that's who she is. Ethan said his old one was fine. He's eleven going on forty.
The school supply lists are getting longer every year. I swear Olivia's fourth-grade list included items that didn't exist when I was in fourth grade. Dry erase markers? In 1992 we had chalk and feelings. I bought everything on every list for all three school-aged kids and spent $127.43 and felt it in my stomach, because $127.43 is grocery money, is gas money, is the gap between the budget working and the budget not working. Brandon squeezed my shoulder in the checkout line. He knew.
That night I made taco soup — ground beef browned with onion, cans of corn, black beans, diced tomatoes, a packet of ranch seasoning and a packet of taco seasoning, a couple cups of water. One pot. Fifteen minutes. Topped with sour cream and crushed tortilla chips. It cost maybe five dollars and fed all seven — all six of us with leftovers, and I stood at the stove stirring it and thought about the enchiladas and the pulled pork sitting in the freezer and thought: what if I made a triple batch of this. What if I had ten meals in there instead of two. What if Sunday was the day I just — built the week. All of it. At once. The thought sat down in my brain and refused to leave. I let it stay.
That Sunday after the shopping trip, standing at the stove stirring and doing math in my head, I started thinking about the week ahead and how I could stop dreading it. These Tofu Tacos ended up being part of the answer — fast enough for a Tuesday, cheap enough to triple, and filling enough that nobody complained. Brandon ate two. Ethan, who says he doesn’t like tacos, ate two. That’s the whole endorsement I need.
Tofu Tacos
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes | Servings: 4 (2 tacos each)
Ingredients
- 1 block (14 oz) extra-firm tofu, pressed and drained
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1/2 medium yellow onion, diced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 packet (1 oz) taco seasoning
- 2 tablespoons low-sodium soy sauce
- 1 tablespoon tomato paste
- 1/4 cup water
- 8 small corn or flour tortillas, warmed
- 1/2 cup shredded purple cabbage
- 1/4 cup fresh cilantro, roughly chopped
- 1 lime, cut into wedges
- Sour cream or plain Greek yogurt, for serving (optional)
- Hot sauce, for serving (optional)
Instructions
- Press the tofu. Wrap the tofu block in a clean kitchen towel or several layers of paper towels and press firmly for 5 minutes to remove as much moisture as possible. Crumble into rough, uneven pieces — you want texture, not uniform crumbles.
- Cook the aromatics. Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, for 3–4 minutes until softened and beginning to turn golden at the edges. Add the minced garlic and cook for 30 seconds more.
- Brown the tofu. Add the crumbled tofu to the skillet in a single layer. Let it cook undisturbed for 2–3 minutes so it develops some color on the bottom, then stir and repeat. You want some crispy bits throughout.
- Season and simmer. Sprinkle the taco seasoning over the tofu and stir to coat. Add the soy sauce, tomato paste, and water. Stir everything together and let simmer for 3–4 minutes, until the liquid is mostly absorbed and the mixture looks saucy and fragrant.
- Warm the tortillas. While the filling finishes, warm tortillas directly over a gas burner for 20–30 seconds per side, or wrap in a damp paper towel and microwave for 45 seconds.
- Assemble and serve. Spoon the tofu filling into warm tortillas. Top with shredded cabbage, cilantro, a squeeze of lime, and sour cream or hot sauce if desired. Serve immediately.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 14g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 40g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 680mg