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Tofu Stir Fry with Brussels Sprouts — The Gyoza Spirit in Every Crispy Bite

Late July. Our birthday week approaches. Miya will be seven. I will be thirty-eight. The ages are markers, mile posts on a road that I have been walking since 1985, the road that started in Sacramento and led to Eugene and led to Portland and led to Brian and led away from Brian and led to this apartment, this kitchen, this balcony, this shiso, this child, this book, this life. The road is long. The road is mine.

I made Fumiko's gyoza for the birthday dinner — the tradition, the annual ritual that Miya now participates in as a full collaborator, not an observer. She makes the filling (chops the cabbage, grates the ginger, mixes), she folds (the crimps are now actually crimps, recognizable as half-moon shapes, consistent, improving), she cooks (she can manage the pan with supervision, the flip from steam to crisp, the timing of the water pour). The gyoza are a collaboration now. The collaboration is the graduation. The graduation is ongoing — there is no finish line, only the continuous improvement that Fumiko demanded and that I demand and that Miya, without being told, has begun to demand of herself.

Brian is dating Lisa officially now — they've been together for several months, the dog Murphy is part of the household, and Miya reports that "Lisa's pasta is actually really good." I have made peace with Lisa's pasta. The peace was hard-won and involved an embarrassing amount of internal competition, but the peace is real now, and the real peace is: Lisa is good to my daughter. Lisa makes her pasta. The pasta feeds her. That is enough. That is more than enough. The feeding is the love, regardless of who does the feeding, regardless of whether the food is miso soup or linguine, regardless of the kitchen it comes from.

I wrote a blog post about shared birthdays — about the way sharing a birthday with your daughter collapses time, about the way August 8th is both my birth and hers, both the beginning of my story and the beginning of hers, both the cake and the candles, both the wish and the wish, the two wishes made on the same flame, the flame the same but the wishes different, the mother wishing for the daughter and the daughter wishing for herself and both wishes valid and both wishes lit by the same fire.

The gyoza are Miya’s now — hers to fold, hers to crisp, hers to be proud of — and there is something in that transfer, that quiet handing-over of a recipe, that I wanted to honor on the other side of a birthday week. When the celebration settles and it’s just a Tuesday again, this tofu stir fry with Brussels sprouts is the dish I reach for: the same crispy-edged satisfaction as a well-cooked gyoza, the same balance of savory and green, but simple enough that a seven-year-old collaborator can own a step or two here as well. It’s not Fumiko’s recipe, but it carries her spirit — the idea that the feeding is the love, and the love is in the technique.

Tofu Stir Fry with Brussels Sprouts

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 1 block (14 oz) extra-firm tofu, pressed and cut into 3/4-inch cubes
  • 1 lb Brussels sprouts, trimmed and halved
  • 2 tablespoons neutral oil (such as avocado or sunflower), divided
  • 3 tablespoons low-sodium soy sauce or tamari
  • 1 tablespoon rice vinegar
  • 1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil
  • 1 tablespoon maple syrup or honey
  • 2 teaspoons cornstarch
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
  • 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes (optional)
  • 2 green onions, thinly sliced, for garnish
  • 1 teaspoon sesame seeds, for garnish
  • Cooked rice or noodles, for serving

Instructions

  1. Press the tofu. Wrap the tofu block in a clean kitchen towel and press firmly for at least 10 minutes to remove excess moisture. Cut into 3/4-inch cubes. Drier tofu crisps better in the pan.
  2. Make the sauce. Whisk together the soy sauce, rice vinegar, sesame oil, maple syrup, and cornstarch in a small bowl until smooth. Set aside.
  3. Crisp the tofu. Heat 1 tablespoon of neutral oil in a large skillet or wok over medium-high heat. Add the tofu in a single layer and cook without moving for 3—4 minutes, until golden and crisp on the bottom. Flip and cook another 2—3 minutes. Remove to a plate.
  4. Cook the Brussels sprouts. Add the remaining 1 tablespoon of oil to the same pan. Add the Brussels sprouts cut-side down and cook undisturbed for 3—4 minutes until deeply browned. Stir and cook another 3 minutes until tender and caramelized at the edges.
  5. Add aromatics. Push the Brussels sprouts to the edge of the pan. Add the garlic, ginger, and red pepper flakes (if using) to the center and cook for 30 seconds, stirring constantly, until fragrant.
  6. Combine and sauce. Return the tofu to the pan. Pour the sauce over everything and toss gently to coat. Cook for 1—2 minutes, stirring, until the sauce thickens and glazes the tofu and sprouts.
  7. Serve. Spoon over rice or noodles. Garnish with sliced green onions and sesame seeds. Serve immediately while the edges are still crisp.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 235 | Protein: 14g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 16g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 480mg

Jen Nakamura
About the cook who shared this
Jen Nakamura
Week 346 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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