Probably the omnomnomiest thing I’ve ever eaten. Nom.

Nom nom. Sandwich.

Without further ado, the recipe. Just as a warning, recipes are often stupid. “It better be exactly a cup of flour,” I often hear them say. That’s bullshit. I’m not God. This is my sporadically-updated blog, not the Bible. Do whatever you want. But be forewarned! These steps have been proven* to produce a nommy sandwich.


  • Tofu. I like extra-firm. I tend to eat 1/3 of a package, but I’m a medium-sized dude with an appetite. Supposedly, a serving of tofu is 1/5  of a package, but, like, don’t let the package tell you what to do. It ain’t the boss of you.
  • Some Cornstarch. You don’t need much. You can probably skip it.
  • A little bit of vegetable or olive oil. Maybe a teaspoon? Whatever.
  • Sriracha. (Sriracha is ubiquitous in Southern California; I have never seen it in North Carolina; I found it in Brooklyn at a bodega on my block.)
  • Half an avocado, sliced. You should probably be sure to get a ripe avocado, natch.
  • A couple spoonfuls of peanut butter.
  • Bread, toasted. This is a sandwich, after all. But, like, if you want to eat it sans bread or with untoasted bread or with noodles or something, go for it. To quote the dude who named California’s counties, YOLO.


  1. Dry (like, between some paper towels or whatever) the tofu.
  2. Slice the tofu into steaks, maybe 1/3 of an inch thick. It’s not really steak at all, but hopefully some poor benighted anti-tofu bro will get pissed off by this.
  3. Coat the tofu in corn starch.
    De tofū et cornstarchū et peanutbutterū

    De tofū et cornstarchū et peanutbutterū


    • Pour oil into pan, on the stove, on medium-low.
    • Put the tofu into the pan for a bit. Like move it around and flip it and stuff. You don’t need me to tell you that, right?
    • Spread the peanut butter on the tofu. You can do this before you put the tofu on the stove if you want. Works fine either way.
    • Flip the tofu and put peanut butter on the other side.
    • The peanut butter’s going to turn black, but it’s not really burnt. It’s still gonna tastes hella good.
    • Put the bread in the toaster. Realize that you should have done that a couple minutes ago. Briefly panic that you’ve ruined your dinner, then find newfound confidence that it’ll still be, as they say in France, delicieux. Because it will be. Let your hope be buoyed by my reassurance, reaching out to across space and time through this recipe.
    • The tofu is done when it looks brown and feels hot. It’s tofu, not meat, so you’re not gonna get food poisoning. If you burn it, cook it less the next time. If it’s not hot enough, cook it more the next time. It’s not, as they say, rocket surgery.
    • Bread having been toasted, put the peanut buttery tofu on the bread. (Optionally, put more peanut butter on the bread.) Put some sriracha, to taste, on the bread and tofu. Put the avocado on top of that. You should probably put the sandwich on a plate, but, again, I, not unlike the tofu package, ain’t the boss of you.
    • Don’t forget to Instagram your meal! If you don’t Instagram every **meal, your soul will move to Jersey.</ol> PS: Remember, kids, fat is tasty. Fat is even tastier when it’s healthy fat, like in peanuts or avocados.

    • De gustibus non disputandum est, amici mihi.