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Tofu Curry — The Batch That Gets Better Every Day

Mid-October and the Halloween preparations are underway. This year Miya is old enough to be aware — not of the holiday itself, but of the pumpkins that have appeared on every porch, the decorations in every window, the general atmosphere of excitement that descends on Portland like glitter, getting into everything and impossible to fully remove.

I carved a kabocha again — my tradition, my tiny rebellion against the pumpkin industrial complex. This year's kabocha jack-o-lantern had a face that Miya helped design by pointing at random spots and saying "eye" and "mouth," resulting in a face with three eyes and two mouths, which is either abstract art or a portrait of my anxiety. I roasted the insides into soup, because we honor and then we eat. The Nakamura way.

I made Japanese curry for the week — a big batch, enough for four days of lunches. The curry improved each day, the flavors negotiating overnight in the refrigerator the way all good flavors do. By Thursday it was extraordinary — deep, complex, sweet, savory, the kind of curry that makes you close your eyes and hum. I wrote about the science of overnight flavors for the blog — about how proteins break down, starches thicken, spices bloom in the cold — and the post was equal parts food science and food poetry, which is my lane, the space where precision meets feeling.

Brian's trying phase ended. Or shifted. He went out three nights this week — "work events" — and came home smelling like hops at midnight and I lay in bed listening to him brush his teeth and thought: the trying was real but it was not sustainable, because trying is effortful and effort is finite and Brian's natural state is elsewhere, always elsewhere, out in the world with people who are not me, and the effort of being home with me is exactly that — effort. I should not have to be a person someone makes an effort to be around. I should be the person someone wants to be around. The distinction is everything. The distinction is the marriage.

I did not say any of this. I wrote it in the journal. The journal grows thicker every week. It is becoming the most honest thing I own.

The Japanese curry I made this week is the one I keep coming back to when I need food that works with time rather than against it—a big batch on Sunday that becomes something entirely different, something earned, by Thursday. If you’re going to cook for one week, cook something that improves as you go. I use tofu here because it absorbs the curry broth the way a good soup bone does, giving you all that depth without the weight. Make it. Leave it alone overnight. Trust the cold and the dark to do what they do.

Tofu Curry

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 4–6

Ingredients

  • 2 tablespoons neutral oil (such as avocado or canola)
  • 1 large yellow onion, diced
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 tablespoon fresh ginger, grated
  • 2 medium carrots, sliced into 1/2-inch rounds
  • 2 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, cut into 1-inch cubes
  • 1 block (14 oz) extra-firm tofu, pressed and cut into 1-inch cubes
  • 3 to 4 tablespoons Japanese curry roux (such as S&B Golden Curry, medium-hot)
  • 3 cups vegetable broth
  • 1 cup water
  • 1 tablespoon soy sauce
  • 1 teaspoon honey or maple syrup
  • 1/2 teaspoon garam masala
  • Steamed short-grain white rice, for serving
  • Sliced green onions and pickled ginger (fukujinzuke), for garnish (optional)

Instructions

  1. Press the tofu. Wrap the tofu block in a clean kitchen towel and press under a heavy pan for at least 15 minutes to remove excess moisture. Cut into 1-inch cubes and set aside.
  2. Build the base. Heat oil in a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and beginning to turn golden, about 8 minutes.
  3. Add aromatics. Stir in garlic and ginger and cook for 1 minute until fragrant.
  4. Add vegetables. Add carrots and potatoes to the pot. Stir to coat in the onion mixture and cook for 2 minutes.
  5. Add liquid. Pour in the vegetable broth and water. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a steady simmer. Cook uncovered for 15 minutes, until the potatoes are just tender when pierced with a fork.
  6. Melt in the roux. Break the curry roux blocks into the pot one at a time, stirring until each is fully dissolved before adding the next. The broth will thicken noticeably.
  7. Add tofu and season. Gently fold in the tofu cubes. Stir in soy sauce, honey or maple syrup, and garam masala. Simmer on low for 10 minutes, stirring gently so the tofu holds its shape.
  8. Taste and rest. Adjust seasoning if needed. For best results, let the curry cool to room temperature, then refrigerate overnight. Reheat gently over medium-low before serving—it will be noticeably richer on day two, and extraordinary by day four.
  9. Serve. Spoon over steamed short-grain rice. Garnish with sliced green onions and pickled ginger if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 340 | Protein: 13g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 46g | Fiber: 5g | Sodium: 780mg

Jen Nakamura
About the cook who shared this
Jen Nakamura
Week 82 of Jen’s 30-year story · Portland, Oregon
Jen is a forty-year-old yoga instructor and divorced mom in Portland who traded panic attacks for plants and never looked back. She's Japanese-American on her father's side — third-generation, with a family history that includes wartime internment and generational silence — and white on her mother's. Her cooking is plant-forward, intuitive, and deeply influenced by both her Japanese grandmother's techniques and the Pacific Northwest farmers market she visits every Saturday rain or shine. Which in Portland means mostly rain.

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