← Back to Blog

Tempeh Recipes —rsquo; The Quiet Nourishment of Cooking for Someone You Love

Amma is declining. The visits are different now — less conversation, more presence. She doesn't speak much. The humming continues. She eats the sambar I bring. She holds Appa's hand. The facility staff say she's comfortable — not in pain, not distressed. Comfortable. The word feels inadequate for a woman who spent her life being uncomfortable with comfort, who cooked and cleaned and managed and organized because stillness was not in her vocabulary. But comfortable is what we have. Comfortable is the goal. I bring food. Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday. Sambar, rasam, curd rice. The containers labeled in my handwriting now, replacing the ones Amma used to label herself. The shift from her labels to mine is the smallest, most painful transition. Anaya visits on Saturdays. She reads to Amma — not from the book (though the book is on the shelf), but from her school readers. Simple sentences. 'The cat sat on the mat.' 'The dog ran fast.' Amma listens. Whether she understands the words or just the voice, I don't know. But she listens. Rohan visits and is loud. The staff have stopped trying to quiet him. His volume is therapy — it disrupts the hush, it brings energy, it makes the residents turn and look and some of them smile. I made Amma's rasam tonight. Extra pepper. The healing kind. Not because it heals anything — because the making of it heals me.

I have been making food by instinct these days — rasam on Tuesdays, sambar on Thursdays, curd rice on Saturdays — and somewhere in the rhythm of chopping and stirring, I remembered this tempeh dish I had tucked away, the kind of thing I make when I need grounding more than flavor. It is simple and intentional, the way all the best comfort food is. If Amma’s rasam heals me in the making of it, this recipe is its quiet companion — something warm, something whole, something you can bring to another person or eat alone at the counter at 10pm while the containers are drying on the rack. Either way, the cooking is the thing.

Tempeh Recipes

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 1 block (8 oz) tempeh, sliced into 1/2-inch strips
  • 2 tablespoons coconut oil or neutral oil
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
  • 1 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
  • 1/2 teaspoon black pepper, freshly cracked
  • 1/4 teaspoon turmeric
  • 2 tablespoons soy sauce or tamari
  • 1 tablespoon lemon juice
  • 1 teaspoon maple syrup
  • 1/4 cup water
  • Fresh cilantro, for garnish (optional)
  • Steamed rice or flatbread, for serving

Instructions

  1. Steam the tempeh. Place tempeh strips in a steamer basket over boiling water and steam for 10 minutes. This removes any bitterness and helps the tempeh absorb the marinade more readily.
  2. Make the marinade. In a small bowl, whisk together soy sauce, lemon juice, maple syrup, turmeric, cumin, coriander, and black pepper until combined.
  3. Marinate. Transfer steamed tempeh to a shallow dish. Pour marinade over the strips, turning to coat. Let sit for at least 5 minutes, or up to 30 minutes if time allows.
  4. Saute aromatics. Heat oil in a wide skillet over medium heat. Add garlic and ginger and cook, stirring, for 1–2 minutes until fragrant but not browned.
  5. Cook the tempeh. Add marinated tempeh strips to the pan in a single layer. Cook for 4–5 minutes per side until golden and slightly crisp at the edges. Pour any remaining marinade and the 1/4 cup water into the pan and let it reduce for 2–3 minutes, turning the tempeh once to glaze.
  6. Serve. Plate over steamed rice or alongside flatbread. Garnish with fresh cilantro if using. Eat warm, slowly, without rushing.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 210 | Protein: 14g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 13g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 420mg

Priya Krishnamurthy
About the cook who shared this
Priya Krishnamurthy
Week 370 of Priya’s 30-year story · Edison, New Jersey
Priya is a pharmacist, wife, and mom of two in Edison, New Jersey — the town she grew up in, surrounded by the sights and smells of her mother's South Indian kitchen. These days, she splits her time between the hospital pharmacy, school pickups, and her own kitchen, where she cooks nearly every night. Her style is a blend of the Tamil recipes her mother taught her and the American comfort food her kids actually want to eat. She writes about the beautiful mess of balancing two cultures on one plate — and she wants you to know that ordering pizza is also an act of love.

How Would You Spin It?

Put your own twist on this recipe — what would you add, remove, or swap?