With all the recent posts on tempeh, you'd think I was vegan or something. Not that there's anything wrong with that. However, I like meat. Fish, flesh, and fowl. And I like butter, eggs, and a gamut of dairy products. It's just that I also really like tempeh (and tofu) and have had some in that had to be used up, so I've posted about that.
I generally prefer my tempeh fried. Thick or thin, marinated in garlic, salt, and water or plain, dipped in batter or naked, I like fried tempeh. Frying transforms the tempeh into a nut-like substance. The texture and taste of fried tempeh makes it the perfect side to an Indonesian meal.
In Indonesia there is a large variety of pepes, packets of steamed, then grilled pastes or meats that have been rolled in banana leaves. Banana leaves are an essentially free resource for packaging the pastes, and steaming the packages before grilling them makes them relatively easy to prepare in advance and grill at the last minute for the vendors who sell them. Chicken, fish, shrimp, tofu, and mushrooms are some of the common fillings for pepes.
The recipe I followed was adapted from The Book of Tempeh. Don't worry about the banana leaves getting burnt; they are wrapped in two pieces of banana leaf ensuring the paste gets grilled without burning. Pepes Tempe
11 shallots 1 tsp sambal oelek 1 small red bell pepper 13 kemiri (candlenuts), available in Asian markets 15 ounces of tempeh, cut in 3/4 inch cubes 1/4 cup coconut milk 3/4 cup to 1 cup kemangi leaves (lemon basil, may use Thai basil I suppose) 2 tsp salt 2 tsp dark brown or palm sugar
1 package of banana leaves (available in freezer of most Asian markets)
Process shallots, sambal oelek, pepper and kemiri to a paste in a food processor. Add remaining ingredients and pulse briefly to combine.
Pour boiling water over the banana leaves to clean and soften them. Cut leaves in 10 nine-inch squares and 10 four-inch squares.
Center a small square of banana leaf on a larger square of leaf. Place about a half cup of the paste in an oval on the small square. Roll up the leaves together and secure with toothpicks on both ends. The sausage shaped package should be about an inch thick. Steam the packets for 10 minutes, and then grill for another ten minutes until the banana leaves are charred. Serve in the leaves. Have something handy to discard the leaves as the packages are opened.
Having made some tempeh, I now need to use it. Tempeh is something that doesn't have a real long shelf life. Perhaps if you vacuum packed it, it might last for some time in the refrigerator. Of course, you could always freeze it, but if you go to the trouble of making your own tempeh it seems to me that you might as well eat it fresh. It is good simply marinated in a little garlic, coriander, salt and water for fifteen minutes or so and then fried. Frying brings out its nuttiness and makes it an excellent addition to gado gado.
Seeing how it is the weekend and the heat has finally arrived in the valley with temperatures approaching 100º F, I decided to make some kripik tempe. These are a perfect accompaniment to a gin and tonic, margarita, mojito, or the drink of your choice. They have the lusciousness of being fried, yet they are high protein and high fiber. Like all things fried, they are best when still hot from the fryer, but they still taste good when they are served at room temperature.
When I lived in Jakarta, I used to buy these and fried tofu from a man with a pushcart fryer at the end of my lane and take them back to my house to enjoy with my evening drink while listening to the call to prayer. There was a small mosque at the end of the street and its loudspeakers always let me know when it was time to pray. Inasmuch as I've never had much reverence for any religion, I always found it very satisfying to indulge in my vices while others more virtuous than I performed their religious duty. Try these and you may be closer to understanding William James' The Variety of Religious Experience.
Kripik Tempe 1 block of tempeh, sliced no thicker than 1/8 inch 1/2 cup rice flour 1/2 cup coconut milk (or water) 1/2 tsp coriander, ground 1 clove of garlic, ground in a mortar to a paste 1/4 tsp turmeric 1/4 tsp salt 4 kaffir lime leaves, thick center vein removed, thinly sliced oil for frying
Dry the slices of tempeh in the sun for fifteen to 30 minutes. Make a thin batter of the remaining ingredients. Dip the tempeh into the batter and drop in hot oil (360º). Fry until golden brown. Drain. Serve with your favorite drink.
Ok, you've made your tempeh, now what? One dish that is popular with the Javanese is tempeh kering--a sweet/savory dish that is like eating sticky, spicy candied pecans. Besides tempeh and laos (galingal--a relative to ginger that is used in a lot of Indonesian and Thai dishes), tempeh kering has chilies, shallots, garlic and tamarind, along with a load of palm sugar. By itself it would probably be too sweet for most palates, but it is a very pleasing complement to other Indonesian dishes. The central Javanese are known to have a particular fondness for sweet dishes, and this is a dish that one can readily find at rumah makans in Central Java.
Tempeh Kering Approximately 14 ounces of tempeh (one block of the homemade tempeh), sliced into pieces 2" x 3/4" x 1/3" 2 cloves of garlic, thinly sliced 2--4 shallots, thinly sliced (shallots in Asian markets tend to be smaller) 1 TBS tamarind concentrate in 1/2 cup water 4 red chilies thinly sliced 5--9 TBS gula jawa (palm sugar), you can substitute dark brown sugar, but it's not quite the same 3--4 quarter size slices of laos (galingal) several daun salam (salam leaves) 1/2 tsp kosher or sea salt oil for frying
Fry the tempeh slices in several batches. Each batch takes about 3 minutes or so. Make sure the oil isn't too hot or you'll burn the outside of the tempeh while the inside will remain soft. You want a uniform crispness. Drain and set aside
Pour off most of the oil. Fry garlic and shallots over low heat until softened but not browned.
Add chilies and sugar. Fry until sugar is melted. (Gula Jawa is sold in cylindrical packages. Although it is solid, it should still be soft and fairly easy to slice into coins. I didn't have any gula jawa in when making this recipe and used Mexican palm sugar, piloncillo, which is much harder. I dissolved this in the water for the tamarind in the microwave and then added to the chilie, shallot mixture.)
Add tamarind water, laos slices, daun salam and salt. Reduce the liquid until it is syrupy and fold in the fried tempeh. Serve with rice and other dishes.
Until I first went to Java in 1983, I had never tasted tempeh. I hadn't even heard of it. I had eaten tahu (tofu) of course, and even cooked with it at times, but tempeh was a totally new experience for me.
I can't recall the first time I had it. I'm sure it was probably while I was dining at the company mess (dining hall), as a part of nasi rames. In Java tempeh finds its way into meals the way potatoes do here in the US. It may be fried or boiled in sauce, with vegetables, meat, or by itself, but it almost always finds itself somewhere on the table. And that is a good thing.
Tempeh is the Barry Bonds of soy products, but you don't have to worry about any asterisk next to its stats. It is legit. Tempeh is 20% protein by weight, the same as steak, and two and a half times as much as tofu. Sometimes disparaged by the shopping mall middle class of Jakarta as poor people's fodder, tempeh is elemental and worthy of reverence. Ironically, while it is considered poor people's food in Indonesia, here in the US it can cost as much as an Angus ribeye. In local Asian markets thin blocks of it can sometimes be found in the freezer section. Whole Foods and the local co-op sell it fresh--plain, Cajun spiced, and terriyaki flavor among the varieties offered--but these too are in small, thin eight to twelve ounce packages. While I'm sure many of these taste fine once they are fried or sauced, none taste to me as tempeh should. Good tempeh--to my taste--should be almost like a ripened cheese. There should be a sweet nuttiness to a raw slice of it.
The process of making your own tempeh is time consuming, but not difficult. If you're planning on having tempeh for dinner tonight, you better head over to your local organic foods store to pick up a slab now. Tempeh making follows the rhythm of Javanese gamelan, slow, repetitive, rather than the more frenetic gamelan of Bali. Plan ahead and you will enjoy a treat akin to a fine artisanal cheese. Once you have successfully made your own tempeh, store bought will seem like Wonder Bread.
The bible for tempeh and tempeh making is The Book of Tempeh, by Shurtleff and Aoyagi. It is truly a phenomenal book in its clarity and abundance of information related to tempeh. I can't say that I've tried many of the western recipes in the book, but the Indonesian ones (approximately 70) are authentic with very clear instructions. The directions for actually making tempeh at home are also very clear and easy to follow. The directions I am providing are simply a condensed version from the book. Anyone who enjoys tempeh should really get the book.
Tempeh starter (choose one) 1 tsp extended spore-powder or 1/4 tsp spore-powder mixture (I use this, but am able to get it from family in Indonesia) or 1/2 tsp meal-texture starter or 2 ounces fresh tempeh
2 quart size plastic bags, perforated with a toothpick every 1/2 inch or so, puncturing both sides of the bags
Bring soybeans and 7 1/2 cups of water to boil in medium pot. As soon as water comes to a boil, remove from heat, cover, and set aside for 12 hours or so.
Pour off the water from the pot, then rub soybeans between hands to remove hulls. This takes quite a bit of time. You want to remove as many hulls as possible. Fill the pot with water and float off the hulls as best you can. This will probably take a good fifteen--twenty minutes and several pots of water.
When you've removed as many hulls as possible (or until you've decided enough is enough), add the remaining 7 1/2 cups of water along with the vinegar to the soybeans in the pot. Bring to a boil and cook uncovered at an active boil for about 30 minutes.
Drain the cooked soybeans in a colander and spread on a paper towel-lined baking pan. Let cool to about body temperature, blotting dry with paper towels (or use a fan to speed the process as I did the other day when I realized I was otherwise going to be late for class).
Sprinkle your starter over the cooled beans and mix well.
Place the beans in the perforated bags. I like a thickness of an inch to an inch and a half. Place the bags in a stable, moderately warm environment (the book explains how to make an incubator--I just place them inside my oven, but don't forget they're there) and wait.
Shurtleff and Aoyagi say it will take about 22 to 28 hours at 86º to 88º F. I find that it takes 48 hours or more in my oven (where the temperature is probably around 70º or so most of the year). As the tempeh blooms, it begins to generate its own heat, so the temperature in the oven actually does get into the mid to high eighties. I would recommend some sort of incubator if you live in an area where temperatures are more extreme.
When the tempeh is completely covered by a soft white blanket of mold, it is ready. The brick of tempeh will be warm to the touch and there will be beads of moisture in the bags. Slice a piece from the slab and you should find each bean is cocooned in a pillowy cloud of the white mold. Try a slice or two raw, alone or paired with a slice of apple, and you will begin to understand why tempeh is so popular with the Javanese.
