Let's Talk About Crispy Honey Garlic Tofu (And Why Even My Neighbor Tunes In!)

Alright, so picture this: It's Thursday, you’re almost out of groceries (typical), and someone left the tofu on sale at the market. I remember making this crispy honey garlic tofu the first time when I honestly needed a break from my usual pasta rut. My cat even came sniffing around. It’s that good. Now, making crispy tofu isn't exactly a walk in the park if you panic about frying things (I used to), but this recipe is basically foolproof. Or, at least, friend-proof—my pal Jenny managed and she once burned a salad. True story. Also, if you’re like me and think garlic can fix almost anything, you’re in the right place.

Why You'll Want This on Repeat

I whip this up when I want something that feels sort of indulgent but doesn't make me want a nap immediately after. My family goes a bit wild for the sticky-sweet glaze, especially when there’s extra (I make double because otherwise my husband licks the bowl—don’t ask). Honestly, the prep is faster than you’d expect—unless, of course, you drop tofu cubes all over the floor like I did last week. On the flip side, pressing tofu is mildly annoying, but it’s worth it for the crunch. I keep telling myself, "I’ll just use pre-pressed!" but never do.

All the Ingredients (Plus My Usual Swaps)

1 block (about 400g) firm tofu (I sometimes use extra-firm if that’s what’s left)
2 tablespoon cornstarch (Grandma insisted on potato starch, but honestly, cornstarch is fine)
A good glug of neutral oil for frying—a couple of tablespoons (avocado oil is fancy if you have it!)
2-3 garlic cloves, minced (trust your heart or your breath's tolerance here)
2 tablespoon honey (swap in agave or maple syrup if you’re feeling vegan or just out of honey—it happens to the best of us)
2 tablespoon soy sauce (dark or light; I tend to grab whatever’s open)
1 tablespoon rice vinegar (apple cider vinegar works too—I’ve done it in a pinch)
1 teaspoon toasted sesame oil (optional but kind of magic—don’t skip if you can help it)
1 teaspoon chili flakes (or not, if you’re spice-shy; I just do a little sprinkle for color half the time)
Toasted sesame seeds and sliced green onions, for garnish (both totally optional—sometimes I forget both!)

How to Make It (With All My Side Notes)

First, press your tofu. (I used to skip this, and it’s...fine? But you don’t get that restaurant-level crunch. I wrap it in a tea towel, stick a skillet or my heaviest cookbook on top, and go scroll TikTok for 15 minutes.)
Cut the tofu into bite-sized cubes. Don’t sweat it if they aren’t perfect. Mine look like sugar cubes that spent a rough night out, and it’s never mattered.
Toss tofu cubes gently with cornstarch in a bowl. Sometimes I use a plastic bag just to avoid more dishes—and it coats daydreamingly well. Shake till everything looks powdery and faintly sad.
Heat your oil in a non-stick skillet over medium-high. Aim for shimmery, not smokin'—unless you like setting off your smoke alarm. Add tofu in batches so they’re not squished together. Fry till golden and crispy all over, turning here and there. This is where I sneak a taste. (Don’t tell anyone, but it tastes pretty great just like this!). Set 'em aside on a plate lined with paper towels.
Alright, time for the sauce. Tip out most of the oil, leaving just a film. Add minced garlic and sizzle it for like 30 seconds, stirring lots so it doesn’t burn (because burnt garlic is nobody’s friend). Then add honey, soy, vinegar, and chili (if using)—let it bubble until it looks syrupy and thick, about 2 minutes. Scrapey, sticky work. If you set your phone down in it, wipe it off quick. Believe me.
Toss the tofu back in and swirl everything gently around so each cube gets a glossy coating. I try not to break them up here, but... sometimes one gets squished. Still edible!
Take off the heat, drizzle in the sesame oil, and give it a quick stir. Scoop onto a nice-looking plate, sprinkle with sesame seeds and scallions—or don’t. There’s no garnish police.

Notes—Things I Messed Up So You Don’t Have To

Don’t overpack the pan when frying; otherwise, the tofu sort of stews itself and you get squishy ends. Not tragic, but not crispy either.
Using really fresh garlic is key—jarred garlic just, I dunno, it tasted off to me one time. If you have to use it, at least add a smidge less.
If your glaze goes too thick, add a splash of water—one time I burnt the pan. Not fun to scrub off afterward, either.

Variations, for When You’re Feeling Adventurous (Or Not)

Air Fryer Tofu: I tossed some cubes in oil and air-fried at 200C for ~14 minutes. Turned out great, maybe less dramatic crunch but better for my fingers.
Peanut Butter Glaze: Added a spoon of peanut butter once. Not the worst, but the sauce went sort of gluey. Wouldn’t repeat unless you’re obsessed with peanut everything.
No Soy Sauce? Tried using coconut aminos once, tasted a bit on the sweet side but nobody complained.

What If I Don’t Have That Fancy Equipment?

You can totally get by without a tofu press. I use a tea towel and a can of beans. Nonstick pan is helpful, but I borrowed my neighbor’s cast iron skillet once—it worked, but cleanup was, uhm, a minor project (thank you, Marcy!). Wok is nice for the toss, but not essential.

Storing Leftovers (If Any Actually Make It That Far...)

Seal any leftover tofu in an airtight container and stick it in the fridge. It’ll hold up for 2-3 days. That said, it loses the edge on crunch after the first day, but the sticky sauce soaks in more—it’s actually better in terms of flavor, I think. Honestly, mine’s usually gone by breakfast the next day. Cold tofu straight out the fridge is a thing I did not expect to love, but here we are.

How I Serve It (And What My Uncle Adds)

I really love plopping the tofu on jasmine rice with a pile of quick cucumber salad—a squeeze of lime over the top if you’re feeling spicy. My uncle eats his with noodles and insists a fried egg belongs on top. To each their own! Sometimes, if I have leftover sauce, I dunk roasted broccoli in it. Try it—it’s shockingly good. I once saw someone serving theirs in lettuce wraps, which is clever, though admittedly a bit fiddly after a pint.

Pro Tips—Learned the Hard Way

I once tried to skip pressing the tofu to save time. Do not recommend, unless you want limp, sad cubes. Press it!
If you rush the garlic step, it often goes from golden to burnt in a blink. Wait for the right sizzle, not a smoking pan.
Doubling the sauce 'because why not' can drown the tofu. Actually, I find it works better if you stick to the proportions, then drizzle extra over after plating.

FAQ—Real Questions I’ve Actually Gotten

"Can I bake instead of fry?"

Yep! Not as crispy, but still satisfying. Bake at 220C (425F) for about 30 minutes, flipping halfway. I do this when I’m feeling a bit lazy or want less mess.
"Does extra-firm tofu work?"
For sure. In fact, sometimes I like it more—it holds shape better when you get overenthusiastic with stirring.
"Is it super sweet?"
Not cloying, but the honey comes through. If you like subtle, cut the honey to 1 Tbsp.
"Where do I find tofu that doesn’t taste weird?"
I usually pick up mine at an Asian market, or honestly, Aldi. Just avoid silken tofu (trust me, it’s like stir-frying pudding).
"Can I make the sauce ahead?"
Sure! It keeps well in a jar for a couple of days—just reheat gently before using, and don’t forget to shake it. I have, and it's not ideal.
Not really a question, but once someone asked if it pairs with a crisp white wine—and you know what? It does! I’ve brought it to book club more than once.

Oh, before I forget—if you want to see legit tofu pressing in action, I always recommend Serious Eats’ guide. And, for creative sauce ideas, Minimalist Baker's tofu collection is a goldmine—full of ideas for mixing it up.

Give this crispy honey garlic tofu a go—even if you're a little scatterbrained in the kitchen like me. Just don't blame me if you eat the last piece before anyone else gets a chance. Fair warning!

Crispy Honey Garlic Tofu