tofu

Brad would sooner shoot tofu with his 9mm then eat it, or so I assumed. But when I flew to his hometown of Houston, and asked for a restaurant suggestion, I was blindsided by his hyper specific recommendation. With options awash with Texas bbq and some very large steaks, Brad insisted that I order clay pot tofu at a certain Vietnamese restaurant. 

My son’s first taste of tofu was at a restaurant. He didn’t know what tofu was, or that it was coming. Having never caught wind of tofu’s bad reputation among non-Asians, he took a bite of its sauce-drenched, crispy fried goodness with an open mind. He chewed through its golden barrier and into its moist, pillowy interior. Grunting his approval, he kept eating. That is how you meet and greet tofu.