where's the beef?

Today, as I was searching for some ding-dang dagnabit seitan (denied at Shaw's in Bath and Brunswick, denied at Hannaford in Brunswick, denied at Morning Glory, denied at Bath Natural Market), I had a bit of a talk with myself. This had turned into a Quixotic mission of epic proportions. (Oh, hello hyperbole...really? My search for vegetable protein that cooks like meat is the same as an iconic saga, perhaps one of the most groundbreaking novels of its time, that spoofs romanticism and chivalry while paving the way for discussion about psychological breakdowns in modern society and generating years of allusion and tribute? Really? It's that important?)

At any rate, I had a talk with myself. I texted famous Mo of the original seitan to tell her I was striking out--she mentioned by the way that Lalibela Farm in Bowdoinham makes a terrific tempeh, which is not to be confused with seitan--and during our text conversation, I started to question why I wanted to find this seitan so badly. Was it because I wanted meat that badly? Not really, although if this--block your eyes, fellas--PMS doesn't turn into full-blown M soon I'm going to scream. Was it because I was irritated that I couldn't find seitan in lower midcoast Maine? Possibly. Was it because I have a lot on my mind and putting the dog in the car, going for a walk, and then driving all over tarnation for two hours allowed me to switch off my brain? Partially.

But, the real reason I wanted to make a dish with seitan was because I wanted Mongolian Beef. That's all it was. This weekend, I walked past the old Empire Dine & Dance and my friend pointed out that it reopened as a high-end Chinese restaurant called Empire Chinese Kitchen. I've read the articles and heard the buzz, but it wasn't until I was walking by and looking in the windows that I thought, "Brilliant."

Next thought, "I bet they make an amazing Mongolian Beef."

I only thought that because the first time I ever had Mongolian Beef, I was staying with my brother in DC and I imagine it came from a high-end Chinese restaurant in a tony little part of the District.

We had a really long day and I was exhausted, most likely slightly hungover, and definitely hungry. Brother's boyfriend--we'll call him Taye--walked in the door with those unmistakable Chinese food containers and spread out a buffet on the dining room table. And there, in the middle, shining under the well-appointed and tasteful dining room chandelier, sat a plate of glistening steamy crispy perfectly seasoned Mongolian Beef. No noodles or rice. Just meat and onions. It was the most delicious thing I have ever eaten.

And I have never, ever eaten it again. Oh, I've ordered Mongolian Beef. But I've never eaten what I had that night again.

You might ask why I don't ask my brother's boyfriend to tell me where he purchased this ambrosia. I'll tell you why with one story:

While they were vacationing together somewhere sunny (most likely Miami, am I right?), my brother and Taye were sitting on the beach together, basking in the sun, reading, scrolling on their smartphones, chatting about dinner plans. Taye said to brother, "Hey, I wanna marry you. Can I marry you?"

My brother, rather sensibly if you think about it since it was such a flippant proposal, responded with, "Well, I don't know whether I'm ready for that kind of commitment yet."

To which Taye said, "What do you mean? It wouldn't be that long."

My brother, probably a little perplexed, continued. "I just think we have some things we need to work out before we decide to spend the rest of our lives together."

There was a pause. A long pause. Taye stiffened.

"I asked you whether I could bury you."

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the beginning of a long list of reasons I love my brother but I can never, ever ask his ex-boyfriend Taye where he bought that delicious Mongolian Beef.

Well, this blog post was going to be about my epic journey to find seitan. I finally did find it at Rising Tide in Damariscotta (Yeah, I was hiding from everything if I drove all the way to 'Scotty for seitan), and I did make Mongolian Beef. Turns out, I was craving the salt and garlic. And peas. And broccoli. And a big pile of mushrooms.

The actual "beef" part? Meh. It wasn't what I hoping for.