If you’ve ever been to Russell Sage Dining Hall at dinner time, you’ve seen them: The faithful. They line up out the door, around the salad bar—-sometimes as far back as the dessert table. They wait for their taste of the best cuisine in any dining hall—to feast on the creations of one man. That man is “Tofu” Tim Cum-mings. Originally from the small town of Ravena, NY, Cummings got his start in the culinary arts working in various resturants. He came to RPI a little over two years ago as the lead worker in the “Firehouse Grill” section of the Commons Dining Hall.
It was here that Cummings’ first signature dish earned its reputation—the grilled Portobello sandwich. Soon Cummings was moved to the sautée area of the dining hall where, as he says, “I did some fancy grill stuff, and the rest is history.”
Cummings was moved to Sage Dining Hall during the Fall of 2000. Before he made the trip, management sent him to the Culinary Institute of America—“For chefs, it’s Disneyland,” Cummings says—to hone his skills. When he returned, it wasn’t long before he became a star attraction for Sage diners. He loves the Sage Dining Hall because of its personal, cozier feel. “Here’s where I really took off,” Cummings says. “Here’s the environment I thrive in.”
A vegetarian, Cummings extols the values of tofu, seitan, and other vegetarian diet staples to the uninitiated. One block provides him with all the protein he needs for the day. For breakfast, he usually eats a block of tofu with soy sauce and drinks green tea. Because of his diet, he says, he only needs to sleep four hours a night.
It was one of his former managers at Sage, Rich Gerard, who coined the name “Tofu Tim” after eating one of Cummings’s dishes—thinking it was chicken—which was actually tofu. Soon Gerard was posting signs with “Tofu Tim” emblazoned on the top with wacky stories of “Tofu Tim’s Uncle Nancy” and other made-up relatives. The nickname stuck.
Though tofu and portabellos made Cummings famous, he serves plenty of dishes for those students who are still omnivores. Monday and Tuesdays—“comfort food days,” Cummings calls them—he serves up Tortellini with red or white sauce (and either sausage, seitan, or recently, “fakin bacon”) and Grilled Caesar Salad, usually with two choices of his own specially-made dressings. Once he tried to deviate from that schedule but the feedback was, well, less than positive. “I don’t dare break that dogma anymore,” Cummings says.
Cummings’s favorite style to cook in is Indian. “The cooking is so complex it’s like an art form,” he says. One of his favorite dishes to cook for himself, Aloupolic, is a sauteed spinach and potatoes dish with curry “and I throw some tofu in, too.”
But as for the cooking he does for the students, Cummings says he’s trying to introduce more and more “exotic” dishes. Last week he served California Rolls and a Greek delicacy called dolmades. Soon Cummings plans to premiere Greek Quesidilas, “an odd sounding combination I know,” he says, but one he promises will be good for the tastebuds.
But don’t think you can get in on his secret recipes. In fact, according to him, only one person knows all his secrets: Rich Maynard, his assistant chef. “And I totally trust him,” Cummings says, “he’s a bastion of integrity.”
Clearly, Tofu Tim is passionate about his cooking and passionate about the students he serves. It’s common to see him whipping up special requests, chatting with the students as they pick up their meals, or having a special pan of vegan or vegetarian for those who have chosen that diet. “I just want to take care of everybody,” he says. “The whole key is not to alienate anyone.”
“Food is a celebration—if you didn’t get the invitation, it stinks.”
When he’s not in front of the stove and grill at RPI, Cummings enjoys cooking for his wife (“I even plate the dishes at home,” he laughs, referring to his decorative presentations of his meals, “I think it’s a neurosis”) and reading philosophy, especially Zen. He also partakes in what he describes as “Fat Guy Yoga”—“it keeps you limber.”
