A Chip Butty With Rosie

Takeover: a reminisce and game-changing lemongrass tofu recipe from my friend Uyen Luu

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Potentially the most delicious thing you can do with chip shop chips

Well hello my lovelies and welcome back to this Wednesday edition of A Lot On Her Plate. Does this picture make you drool? Please talk to me in the comments and tell me how you are, for I have missed you. I’m frankly reeling from/grieving for the end of Succession, and I know many of you will be too. I just can’t believe it’s done. And WOW, what a finale - for me it was just epoch-defining TV. Did I think about its looming crescendo while on holiday? You bet I did. Our holiday was fun - though not without mishaps - and I think the weather was largely better in the UK than Crete, but just the time off (and offline) spent together as a family without distractions - other than deciding where to eat and what to have for lunch - was so enriching, and such a privilege.

Who takes an iron on holiday anyway?

A week away from cooking, washing up, my laptop and our daily routines; a change of scene; laughter and (lots of) wine with friends; plus a much longed-for dive into another country’s cuisine: it all works to fire me up and get me energised to cook and create on the other side, and I ate some really beautiful things in Crete which I’ll try and share in a forthcoming newsletter. But for now, here’s a very special treat for you all. It’s something a little bit different, and something that I’m hoping I might do more of in future, if you enjoy it.

One of my biggest hopes for this space, (and one of the things that sets Substack apart from other newsletter platforms), is that it’s a place of community: for hungry, curious, joy-seeking folk who will find value in the recipes, stories, ideas and recommendations I share here, get involved and share their own with me and each other below the line. I want it to be a place where we can learn from each other and feel nourished by each other: our similarities and our differences. I’ve been hugely enjoying getting to know so many of you in the comments and over on Notes - so thank you so much for all your engagement so far, and please keep it coming. In that spirit, I want this to be a place of collaboration, where I can bring in different voices and friends from within the food world and beyond, as that can only work to greatly enrich what we do here. So, without further ado, I give you our first proper ALOHP takeover...

So much to love about this book, and what a cover!

And I could not be more excited to be handing over the reins of this issue to a very safe pair of hands: my dear friend Uyen Luu, the brilliant chef, supper club host, writer and cookbook author who - as many of you know, and for background for those who don’t - I wrote about in this piece a couple of months ago. Uyen and I go way back and have climbed the culinary ladder together, clinging to each other, and helping each other up various rungs along the way. It’s no understatement to say that she has been a huge part of my own food journey, and is an ongoing inspiration who I’m delighted to share with you here. Uyen has recently started a Substack where she’s sharing some of her best and most candid writing, and her stunning new book Vietnamese Vegetarian has just come out, which is teaming with easy, exciting veggie recipes that make you want to cook and eat them immediately. Like this absolute belter:

Potentially the most delicious thing you can do with tofu

As I’ve previously explained, Uyen is a maestro of flavour, and when I asked her to come on board for this issue, it was this delicious, hugely versatile Lemongrass tofu recipe from the book that she chose to share, and trust me when I say it’s a game-changer, particularly if you’re someone who finds themselves at a loss as to what to do with tofu, as I sometimes have. When I threw the door open to Uyen to write an introduction, it was this memory from her visit to me in Deal some years ago, where she first experienced the double carb bliss that is a chip butty, that she chose to share. This was a total delight for me to read, not just because she’s been incredibly kind in her words (and I hope it’s not too immodest to share them here), but because I had forgotten that as well as learning so much from Uyen, I had been the one to launch this uniquely British delight into her world. What a thing to have done. I really hope you enjoy her words and recipe below, and check out her book. And if you’ve never tasted a chip butty, for the love of god, make that right! And don’t forget to report back.

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A Chip Butty With Rosie
by Uyen Luu

Uyen and me at last years’s OFM Awards

“You can’t have a fish and chips without a chip butty!” Said Rosie. Rosie Birkett as she is known, is on the telly, wrote a Sunday Times column, published a couple books and generally goes around saying, “Phrwoarr, look at those juicy prawns,” or “oooh, I can murder a plate of sausage and mash,” or “I need a phở, a hot slippery bowl of steaming hot phở, right now!”

A lot of people claim to love food and you’d only see them nibbling on a leaf. I mean it when I say that, Rosie loves food. You can tell by the way she chews a delicate canapé or devours a burger; mayo on her nose, juices dripping down her wrists. She is someone who can eat with lust, noise and appreciation - like those people who are dancing when no one is watching. This is why I am totally in love with Rosie, this is why we are friends. 

It was in her mother’s Deal kitchen where she shoved the white bread chip butty, lathered in thick  butter into my hands.  I was alright with fish and chips with plenty of onion vinegar which had been splashed on at the shop. I asked her for an extra helping of salt. She handed me Maldon (of course) and I made sure to rub the crystals firmly between my thumb and index, crunching it to fall a finer grain. “That! That is so good!” The words muffled out of my stuffed mouth. 

“Isn’t it?” Said Rosie, words also muted by the butty. We both disappear into a crisp and potato-ey abyss tendering to the simple joys of English seaside delights. This will always stick as a treasured food memory.  

Forevermore, Rosie and I are like a pair of giggly schoolgirls on the top deck of the bus, nattering about the sorrows of life, the gladness of our luck and counselling each other about “ways in.” Our friendship has always been based on bestie discoveries and tell-all glee about achievements, alongside the unpacking of anxieties and fears.

She helped me style my first ever book, My Vietnamese Kitchen in 2012, and she ate the entire set. I am not joking. She helped me with my supper clubs, she drank from the soup bowl and slurped every noodle. I am not kidding. I love the people who eat up with gusto, keenness and enthusiasm because I love to feed and they have a knack of making feeders like me feel like they are giving adequately. 

Rosie’s cooking is absolutely delicious, I am lucky enough to have enjoy her versions of her late dad’s ‘seafood sizzle’ and beautiful mum’s roast dinners. Similar to her eating style, she cooks with vigour and emotion. They stream down from her arms as she dashes around the kitchen tearing something open. She doesn’t mind spillage, she would throw a wooden spoon full of sauce down. She doesn’t put things back, she attends the stove. She focuses on the preparation, she sniffs it all in and she tastes and savours. She is fierce with the knife and she makes the perfect joyful plate because she simply loves flavours and textures.

When I tried to get my book Vietnamese published, Rosie helped me approach my now publisher Hardie Grant. This simple act of kindness and friendship has lead me to enjoy so many successes, and now to publish Vietnamese Vegetarian. Rosie introduced me to the delights of great British vegetables such as monks beard, asparagus and rhubarb. Her beautiful recipes have always inspired me to create similar in a Vietnamese style. I love that I can always find myself if I am lost when around Rosie. I can always smile, be myself and feel safe around the comfort of Rosie and her massive zest for life. 

Here is a recipe for Lemongrass Tofu. It is a traditional dish that is often served around a rice table. She would love this. It’s a simple yet delicious recipe full of flavour. If you can, try to get medium firm tofu, ‘Tofu King’ from the Asian supermarket. This is tender, not at all cardboard like, and soaks up the tang of your store cupboard ingredients and the sparkle of all that lemongrass. If you are very careful and have a very good non stick pan, the Clearspring silken tofu is really good, you can actually smell and taste soy beans in it. Simply slice the packet up and cut the tofu into 4 big chunks and fry, but you must be careful not to break the tofu. Use a very thin spatula and leave it alone in the pan, only turn when you are sure it has browned and created a crust.

I love eating this with steamed rice. It does make everything feel better.

LEMONGRASS TOFU 

ĐẬU HŨ KHO SẢ

I like using medium-firm tofu, but understanding the correct firmness of tofu will really help make your veggie dishes amazing, as tofu takes on all the fabulous flavours you throw at it. As well as being a great topping for a noodle salad bowl, this is a much-loved dish to be shared with friends and family during a meal of rice and lots of other dishes. This is also great for summer rolls or bánh mì filling, therefore a must-have in your repertoire.

Serves 2–4

Prep time — 15 minutes

Cooking time — 25 minutes

1 shallot, finely chopped

2 garlic cloves, finely chopped

1 (or 2) bird’s eye chilli, finely chopped (optional)

1 lemongrass stalk, finely chopped

1 tablespoon premium quality soy sauce or Homemade Vegan Fish Sauce (page 193)

11/2 tablespoons vegetarian oyster sauce

11/2 tablespoons maple syrup

1 tablespoon black vinegar (or cider vinegar)

300 g (101/2 oz) medium-firm tofu, sliced into 1 cm (1/2 in) batons

2 tablespoons cooking oil

50 ml (13/4 fl oz) coconut water or aloe vera juice

30 g (1 oz) coriander (cilantro) leaves or Thai basil, coarsely chopped

1 tablespoon toasted sesame seeds

1. Mix the shallot, garlic, chilli and lemongrass in a large bowl, together with the soy sauce, vegetarian oyster sauce, maple syrup and vinegar. Add the sliced tofu to the bowl and marinate for at least 30 minutes or in the refrigerator overnight.

2. In a large frying pan (skillet) over a medium heat, add the oil, then place the tofu batons clockwise in the pan to fry 5 minutes on each side or until golden. Then add the rest of the marinade and the coconut water to sizzle for a further 3–5 minutes, adding more if too dry. Stir in the coriander at the last minute.

Sprinkle with the sesame seeds and serve immediately with steamed rice or on vermicelli noodle salad bowls.

NOTE

If you would like to deep-fry the tofu, fry the other ingredients in another frying pan, then combine the sauce with the tofu when the tofu is golden and crispy.

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THANK YOU UYEN XX