Yan Can Cook and So Can I

Back in college, when faced with the prospect of cooking for myself for the first time (and for my then-boyfriend), I bought my very first cookbook:  A Wok for All Seasons by Martin Yan. Martin Yan proved to me that I could cook something edible, and even better, that it was fun.  With Martin Yan in hand, I ventured into grocery stores seeking out such unfamiliar things as hoisin and oyster sauce.  I bought my first bottle of wine (cooking wine) because of this cookbook.  Martin Yan's book, and the other two cookbooks I acquired that year, survived the electric wok-with-missing-leg and the ancient gas-spewing stove.  They were my trenchmates in the ongoing battle of "What's for dinner?" and "Do you like it?"  They bolstered my confidence, emboldened me to go forth and cook a cuisine that I didn't even like two years before.  (Alright, girl, enough with the poetics.)   My copy, now 14 years old, is splattered with oil, hoisin, and oyster sauce, and the pages are falling out of the binding — the sign of a well-used and loved cookbook.  Though I haven't cook much from this cookbook in years, there is one dish that calls me back time and time again:  "Beef and Bean Curd Delight."  Tonight was one of those nights.  I said to myself in the morning, "You just bought a big tub of tofu yesterday.  Just what are you going to do with it?"  Beef and Tofu.  Of course.  I forgot to take a picture of it, so you'll have to imagine for yourself thinly sliced marinated beef, stir fried with ginger (and dried chilies — my modification), then simmered briefly with cubed medium or firm tofu and a sauce made of chicken broth, shao hsing wine, oyster-flavored sauce, and black pepper.  Stir in some tapioca starch (plus water) to thicken the sauce, sprinkle with thinly horseshoe-sliced green onions, and serve.  Mmmm...