Turn tofu from bouncy and soft to porous and spongy in one easy step
The first time I froze tofu was more incidental than intentional. Having accidentally doubled a grocery order, I put some blocks of extra firm tofu in the freezer, as is in their plastic packaging. After I took the tofu out and thawed it, I found that it had transformed. The tofu was darker and yellower. Where its interior was once mostly smooth and only intermittently pockmarked, it had become dappled throughout with crevices and lots of little holes.
Squeezing the tofu with two hands, I was shocked by not only how much moisture came out but also by how much stronger the tofu felt — extra firm straight from the package would have otherwise crumbled into scramble. I found that this frozen-then-thawed tofu sucked up marinade like a sponge, and after being torn into chunks, tossed in starch, and fried, it took on a popcorn chicken-like quality. I started freezing tofu even more than pressing tofu (unnecessary, in my opinion).
Freezing tofu is a technique long used by East Asian cooks and vegan chefs, dating to the late-1600s in China. The combined process of freezing, thawing, and then pressing the liquid out transforms tofu’s texture completely, taking it from moist and bouncy to dry and spongy, which can be useful depending on your goals for your tofu. This works because, as it freezes, the water inside the tofu — what you might press out — expands into ice crystals. As the ice crystals thaw, the holes and craggy pockets remain.
This drier and more porous texture likely isn’t what you want from tofu all the time; in preparations like slippery hiyayakko tofu or salted-water-dunked tofu, tofu’s natural springiness and hydration is the whole point. But knowing the freezing technique can help make tofu more versatile in your kitchen, especially if you’re interested in exploring its range of possible textures or approximating the texture of meat.
Why freeze tofu?
“It’s chewier, almost like [freezing] gives it a gristle,” says Isa Chandra Moskowitz, author of cookbooks including Fake Meat and chef of the vegan restaurant Modern Love (with locations in Brooklyn and Omaha, Nebraska). Though she doesn’t currently have frozen tofu on the menu, Moskowitz has been cooking with frozen tofu since she went vegan in the 1980s, recalling a particular barbecue tofu dish: You freeze tofu, thaw it, press it, bake it, dress it with barbecue sauce, and then bake it again. The end result “tastes like a McRib,” Moskowitz says.
In addition to its added chewiness, C-Y Chia and Shane Stanbridge of Oakland’s recently closed Lion Dance Cafe also like frozen tofu because, with its spongier texture, it’s easy to infuse with flavor and it retains more brining liquid or marinade than other tofu preparations. Accordingly, the pair used frozen tofu for Lion Dance’s popular nuggets. “There’s nothing wrong with just unfrozen, unbrined tofu — we really love that too, but we wanted to go for that specific feeling of chewy and juicy as well,” says Chia, who notes that frozen tofu is common in Singapore, where they grew up. Frozen tofu allowed for a texture like a chicken nugget, but without having to rely on mock meats.
How do you freeze tofu?
Some people like to first drain their tofu before freezing it in a separate container. I tend to freeze and thaw my tofu directly in its liquid in the package it came in. Though I do this mostly for ease, Moskowitz does the same because she thinks keeping the water results in a denser, meatier texture. While some people cut their tofu before freezing it, Moskowitz leaves hers as a whole block, partially also because she thinks the finished texture is better. She then thaws the tofu in the fridge and then presses it by hand before wrapping it in a paper towel and putting a book on top. From there, you can do anything with it.
The freezing-then-thawing cycle can also be repeated to amplify the effect, as Stanbridge and Chia did for their nuggets. The labor-intensive process began with first freezing tofu (which they drained and cut into shape), then pouring an aromatics-enriched brine over it. The brine both thawed the tofu and infused it, with all those new ice crystal-forced pockets, with flavor as it sat in the refrigerator overnight. At that point, the tofu would be dredged in a seasoned flour mix, frozen, and then thawed again before being fried. “We could never keep up,” Chia says. “It would take all week, and it would just sell out in like half an hour.”
For a simpler take on the double-freeze process, the method can also be done without the additional brining or dredging steps in between. The recipe developer and TikTok creator Liz Miu does this, also explaining the food safety side of freezing tofu twice, in her recipe for tofu karaage. She just double-freezes her tofu, tosses it in starch, then fries it into crispy, chewy nuggets.
What kind of tofu can be frozen?
Any kind of tofu can be frozen. In fact, “the results are a bit more exaggerated when you use softer tofu,” Stanbridge says. Softer tofu contains more water, and the spaces between the coagulated fats and proteins are wider, he explains. With freezing, “the water that forms ice crystals cuts through a lot of that, and it’s just a totally different result,” Stanridge says.
How do you use frozen tofu?
Reach for frozen-then-thawed tofu when you want additional chew, as opposed to the more yielding texture of tofu straight from the package or even pressed. “I like to use it if I want something really crispy or something with a light marinade,” Moskowitz says. By a “light marinade,” Moskowitz means something she’d want to “be chicken-y,” like a lighter broth with dill or thyme. In general, Moskowitz uses frozen-then-thawed tofu in stir-fries (press to get the water out, let it crisp up in the pan, then add sauce), in oven-baked dishes (like the aforementioned barbecue tofu), and in fried chicken-like preparations (press it, bread it, then fry it).
Naturally, the one thing to keep in mind is that freezing-then-thawing technique requires a little more planning ahead than simply pressing tofu — this isn’t something you can decide to do on Monday morning for dinner the same day. The end result is worth the wait though.
Subin Yang is a South Korean illustrator currently based in NYC. She graduated with a BFA in illustration from Pacific Northwest College of Art and makes images using colorful blocky shapes and loose line work inspired by themes of home, culture, and identity.
