Even way before I became a vegetarian (pesce-lacto-ovo- if you want to be exact), I was freaked out by raw chicken. The texture, the smell, the color – all of it.
The things we do for love – like pounding, rolling, stuffing, and yes – touching raw chicken to make my husband some man-food.
Pizza chicken rollatini - a bit of marinara sauce on top of chicken breasts stuffed with herbs, pepperoni, and mozzarella.
Ever since I made tofu “ricotta” the first time, I’ve just winged it since – crumbled tofu, lemon juice, garlic powder, and whatever else I want to throw in. I bastardized the vegan concept by adding parmesan, garlic & herb spreadable “cheese”, and cottage cheese.
Eggplant tofu ricotta lasagna, take two.
Just as good as the first time around! I layered in some raw spinach leaves, too. Cooked kale would also be delicious, similar to the swiss chard stuffed shells.
I also prepared some egg noodles on the side, topped with butter and parmesan cheese (the only way I’d eat pasta for years as a child).
Although I try to make Adam a “meaty” version of whatever I prepare, he’s always willing to try my vegetarian dishes – even if it comes with a snarky comment every one in a while. Like “Something’s wrong with this macaroni” (yes, dear, its whole grain orzo), or “This cauliflower tastes really garlicy” (yes, dear, it has roasted garlic in it), or “These potatoes taste funny” (that’s because they’re rutabaga fries), or that this delicious, healthy soup looked like “baby vomit”.
He liked the eggplant lasagna (and probably had no clue the “cheese” was mostly tofu), and as a bonus – he said the chicken was awesome.
Fellow veg-heads out there: how often do you make meat for your family / spouse?