Roasted Brussels Sprouts and Crispy Baked Tofu with Honey-Sesame Glaze

April 16th. The anniversary. Eight years. I fried the chicken. The ritual. The Folgers can, the flour, the oil, the sizzle, the golden crust, the taste, the tears. Eight years and the tears still come but they're different tears now — not the drowning kind, the watering kind. The kind that grow things.

This year: Marcus called from Morehouse and made fried chicken in his apartment kitchen simultaneously. His first time frying. He called twice during the process — once about oil temperature ("Mama, how do I know it's hot enough?" "Drop a pinch of flour in. If it sizzles, it's ready."), once about timing ("How long per side?" "Until it tells you it's done." "MAMA." "Four minutes."). His chicken came out, by his own admission, "a little dark." I said, "Mama's first batch was dark too." I don't know if that's true. But it's the right thing to say.

Jasmine sang "Amazing Grace" through FaceTime from Howard. Her voice filled my kitchen from a phone propped against the Folgers can and the sound was Mama's kitchen and Mama's bedside and Mama's funeral and Mama's legacy all in one song from a girl who is becoming a woman who carries the melody forward.

Isaiah made greens. In Charlotte. Without being asked. The ritual has spread to four kitchens now — mine, Marcus's, Isaiah's, and wherever Jasmine's voice reaches. Zoe fried chicken for the second year in a row. She's getting better. She's getting confident. She opened the Folgers can herself this year. I watched her open it and the opening was the opening of everything — the past into the present, the present into the future, the can into the kitchen, the kitchen into the world.

Curtis ate one piece and said, "Eight years." Just that. The number and the silence and the man who held Mama's other hand and who sits now in a wheelchair in a kitchen that smells like the woman he loved for forty-five years. Eight years. The number. The silence. The love that survives the dying.

The fried chicken is Mama’s, and it always will be — that recipe lives in the Folgers can and in muscle memory and now in four kitchens, and it doesn’t need me to write it down. But on the ordinary Tuesdays between anniversaries, when I want that same reward of a golden crust and something worth gathering around, I come back to this: crispy baked tofu and roasted Brussels sprouts, glossed with honey and sesame, built on the same principle Marcus was learning over the phone — that patience with heat is how you get something worth eating. Zoe made this with me last fall, and the confidence she showed pressing the tofu and watching for the color change was the same confidence I saw when she opened the Folgers can herself. The ritual teaches itself, one golden crust at a time.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 40 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 block (14 oz) extra-firm tofu, drained and pressed for at least 15 minutes
1 lb Brussels sprouts, trimmed and halved
2 tablespoons cornstarch
3 tablespoons soy sauce or tamari, divided
2 tablespoons toasted sesame oil, divided
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
2 tablespoons honey (or maple syrup for vegan)
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon rice vinegar
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon fine salt
1 tablespoon sesame seeds, for serving
2 green onions, thinly sliced, for serving

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 400°F. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper and a second baking sheet for the Brussels sprouts.
Cut and coat the tofu. Cut the pressed tofu into 3/4-inch cubes. In a medium bowl, toss the tofu with 1 tablespoon soy sauce, 1 tablespoon sesame oil, and the cornstarch until evenly coated. Spread in a single layer on one prepared baking sheet.
Season the Brussels sprouts. In the same bowl, toss the halved Brussels sprouts with 1 tablespoon olive oil, the remaining 1 tablespoon sesame oil, salt, black pepper, and red pepper flakes if using. Spread cut-side down on the second baking sheet.
Roast together. Place both sheets in the oven. Roast the Brussels sprouts for 25–30 minutes, flipping once halfway, until the cut sides are deeply caramelized. Roast the tofu for 30–35 minutes, flipping once at 20 minutes, until the edges are firm and golden brown.
Make the honey-sesame glaze. While everything roasts, whisk together the remaining 2 tablespoons soy sauce, honey, minced garlic, rice vinegar, and remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil in a small saucepan over medium-low heat. Simmer for 2–3 minutes, stirring, until slightly thickened. Remove from heat.
Combine and glaze. Transfer the roasted tofu and Brussels sprouts to a large serving bowl or platter. Pour the warm honey-sesame glaze over everything and toss gently to coat.
Serve. Scatter sesame seeds and sliced green onions over the top. Serve immediately over steamed rice or on its own.

Nutrition (per serving)

Roasted Brussels Sprouts and Crispy Baked Tofu with Honey-Sesame Glaze — The Golden Crust That Carries Us Forward