While browsing the shelves at Onion River Co-op's City Market South End location, I spotted something in the frozen food section that made me stop in my tracks: amorphous, brown chunks of seitan with a label that read, “Family Owned in Vermont Since 1979.” Thinking it would be an economical choice for a quick lunch, I put a $9.99 Pounder in my cart.
Seitan, a wheat gluten-based alternative protein also known as “wheat meat,” evokes 1970s hippie food, unless it's disguised as meat in trendy pre-made versions like fake chorizo or beef crumbles. Christina Denby has been making Sheffield seitan in Lyndon for over 40 years, and her product doesn't pretend to be anything other than what it is: “organic wheat gluten cooked with natural soy sauce, spices and water.” And its simplicity is magical.
“It's unique and a cut above any seitan I've ever come across,” says Tim Elliott, co-owner of Zaby and Elf's Stone Soup in Burlington, who has been cooking with Sheffield seitan since 1992, when he ran the vegetarian deli at the now-closed Origanum Natural Foods on Main Street.
Elliott says he appreciates the versatility of the product: It's large enough that he can slice it thinly with a meat slicer, then marinate it in maple syrup and tamari and layer it on bread for a popular veggie Reuben sandwich. He can also use the slicer to make seitan pepper “steaks,” or run the seitan through a cheese grater to replace ground beef in specialty dishes like Cuban stew.
“It's a clean slate that's really good at soaking up the sauce,” he said.
Denby, now 74, bought the business with her late husband, Leo Denby, in 1981. It's taken on many incarnations over the years; at one point the couple delivered wheat puffs (tempura-fried seitan) around the state while also purchasing and selling specialty baked goods like bagels, Jewish rye bread and croissants. Elliott fondly recalls the days when Leo would truck his supplies to Burlington and offer up free cornmeal-breaded seitan treats that were “fried like chicken fingers” and tasted “incredibly good.”
Eventually, a New Hampshire-based distributor bought the seitan and distributed it throughout the Northeast, but when that company was bought by a larger New Jersey company, Denby severed ties and began shipping frozen seitan directly from his shop in the Northeast Kingdom to individuals, retailers, and restaurants like Stone Soup, Mad Taco, and Buenos Ana's.
Today, Denby is Sheffield Seitan's sole employee. She's scaled back her business, working a comfortable 25-hour work week to focus on maintaining her current account. The relaxed pace also allows her time to spend with her family and her new husband. Still, she enjoys her work, and she says she plans to stick with it for the time being, despite the bumps along the way.
For example, she's currently struggling to find the 15 percent protein organic flour she needs to maintain quality. “I work every week. COVID almost killed me, but I kept saying, 'We'll figure it out,'” she says. She doesn't want to disappoint her customers, some of whom have remained loyal even after moving as far away as California.
After picking up a pair of seitan pounders on a whim at City Market, they sat in my freezer for about two months. I'd only ever eaten seitan a few times, usually at fast food burrito places, so I never thought to make it myself. I did defrost them once, but the brown chunks scared me so I put them back together. (Unlike most foods, seitan can be re-frozen.)
With St. Patrick's Day approaching, I was craving a meat-and-potato meal, so I took a risk. I thawed the pounders again, diced them, and stewed them to create a veggie Guinness pie. Chunks of seitan gave the mushrooms, carrots, and celery a meaty crunch. Smothered in a velvety, reduced stout sauce and topped with a flaky puff pastry, the dish was a hit with vegetarians and omnivores alike.
Since then, I've used Sheffield seitan as a filling for homemade burritos and tacos, and on a recent summer night, I substituted beef for grilled veggie kebabs. I cut the seitan into large chunks straight out of the bag and strung it on a skewer along with colorful bell peppers, onions, broccoli, and cremini caps. The hot coals charred the edges of the seitan, adding a delightful crunch to its unique texture. A marinade would pack a punch, but the seitan's soy sauce provided enough umami flavor on its own that it didn't require much effort. The zesty garlic sprouts and kale pesto that I spread on the kebabs were the perfect match for the mildly spiced seitan.
With practice, I've become more confident in preparing Denby seitan, and I'm already thinking about what I'll use it for next – imagining seitan and bacon BLTs all summer long (i.e. tomato season). Maybe I'll even try wheat puffs.
Small Pleasures is an occasional column featuring delicious and unique Vermont-made foods and drinks. Send us your favorite snacks and beverages. [email protected].
