How many times have you read that? Even people who hate fruitcake love this one. Even people who hate mushrooms love this soup.

What is it about food-hating that instantly makes people want to convert the hater? Tell someone you loathe peas/liver/brussels sprouts and suddenly she’s at your elbow waving a recipe and crooning, “Even my kids, who won’t eat anything, love these.” Whatever it is you dislike, it’s probably happened to you. I know I’ve done it myself.

Why do they do it? People are just nice, I guess, and they want everyone to enjoy a food as much as they do. Sometimes it’s just not going to happen. But occasionally, with a really good recipe, it’s possible to convert someone.

Case in point: there’s a tofu-hater at my table occasionally. I made an Indonesian Tofu Omelet the other day in which it was impossible to detect the tofu. IM.POSSIBLE. I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I hadn’t made it and tasted it. Tofu Hatah was visiting, and there was not much else to eat. (Except kale.) So while I don’t like to lie to people about what’s in the food, (because what if they’re allergic?) I called it an Indonesian omelet. It tastes a lot like Vietnamese banh xeo, which is just about my favorite Vietnamese food, which is just about my favorite cuisine. It went down the hatch without a hitch.

Do I feel a little guilty? Maybe so, but if you don’t actually tell the person, they don’t lose face, do they? Because that would just be rude. Way ruder than feeding someone a food they claim to hate.

Indonesian Tofu Omelet

This recipe is from The Southeast Asia Cookbook.

Drop the bean sprouts into boiling water for about 30 seconds. Refresh under cold water.

Drain and mash the tofu. Beat the tofu with the eggs and salt. Stir in the sprouts. Oil an 8-inch skillet or crepe pan. Add half of the mixture. Cover and cook until set. Flip it over and cook the other side (or broil it) until cooked through. Repeat with the remaining tofu mixture.

Combine the kecap manis and vinegar. Drizzle over each omelet. Scatter the chiles, peanuts and parsley over each. Cut into quarters. Makes 2 main dish servings; up to 6 appetizer servings.�

You may or may not remember Barry Stokes, so I’ll catch you up. His company, 1Point Solutions, seems to have taken in a great deal of retirement money which subsequently vanished without satisfactory explanation or documentation. Victims included a 57-year-old who lost more than $400,000. What would you do at that age? Where would you even begin?

While 1Point was in its manic growth mode, there were expensive dinners with expensive wine — I know someone who attended two such meals. After his activities were discovered, the bankruptcy trustee sold his extensive fine wine collection and his Japanese art was auctioned. Stokes himself is in jail awaiting a trial for fraud and embezzlement that may begin in June. Just a guess here — the food and service provided at his accomodations by the Davidson County Sheriff’s Office probably stink.

Prison food is a whole other world. It’s where meat graded USDA “utility” “commercial” and “standard” goes after you and I have eaten all the Prime and Choice and Select. It’s where the “chunk dark” and other of the five grades of tuna go after we have eaten the “solid white” and “chunk light” (The bottom two grades go to pet food). It’s where violent offenders (and vegans, occasionally) are punished with a nutritious but unappetizing Management Loaf that can be eaten without utensils. Go on — ask me how I know.

His lawyers have petitioned the court to alter his diabetic meal plan. For starters, he told the court he’s being shorted several hundred calories a day on his 2,600-calories meal plan. For better blood sugar management, he wants an apple instead of an orange. Finally, he is being served 10 slices of white bread a day. And wants whole wheat instead. Since it’s an accepted disease management measure, it doesn’t seem like too much to ask. Except that the Davidson County Sheriff’s Office replied that they don’t serve wheat bread.

It’s hard to figure whom to side with sometimes. But I do know one thing: it’ll be better in the Big House.

Portable photo lightbox for Christmas! So what if it violates our “no appliances” gifting rule. Now I can make anything look this glamorous! Thanks dad!

Except maybe not this

But we can try.

Shooting attractive pictures food, let’s face it, is a challenge. So much food hath an unfortunate brown-ness. And if not brown, then tan. Or taupe. Beige. Toast. Chestnut. So much of it looks homely. I needed the extra beauty, the loving caress of a light box today when I prepared and shot tofu skin. Like so many things, its qualities lie beneath the skin. Soak it in water, cut it up, stir-fry it like tofu. It’s chewy and chicken-like, without the tofu aftertaste. I had it a few weeks ago on the superb weekend buffet at Golden Coast. (But don’t go on weekdays — different cook, no one home.)

I made mine with mushrooms and cashews. Does it look as good as it tastes? Uh, yes? I’ll keep working with the camera AND the tofu skin.