Eggplant

Not unlike the preceding recipe, this one, too, is best with fresh, firm small eggplants. Serve as a starter or side dish, especially in summer.

One of the few recipes in which eggplant is boiled. It’s an unusual preparation, and a good one, but you can also sauté it, as in Sautéed Eggplant (page 456). Small eggplants are almost always preferable to large ones, and the Japanese know this better than anyone; you don’t even see large eggplants there. (If you must use a larger eggplant, try to get a very firm one, which will have fewer seeds.) Typically, this is made with wasabi powder; but I had it prepared with Dijon mustard in Japan, so I consider this version perfectly legitimate.

Ignacio Blanco is a friend from Galicia, the northwestern corner of Spain. He taught me this delicious (and, yes, traditional, though it is cooked) gazpacho. Best made in August, when all these vegetables are at their peak.

This dish contains a lot of flavors, but one distinguishes Indonesian cooking from almost every other: dried shrimp. These tiny crustaceans can be bought at most Asian markets and need only be soaked in hot water for a few minutes before use. (There’s also a shrimp paste, which requires no soaking; you can use this instead.) But, like nam pla—Southeast Asian fish sauce—dried shrimp are an acquired taste for many people. I like them, but I’ve also made this successfully without them when I fear guests will balk. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: I’ve never seen this without green beans, but certainly you could substitute any root vegetable for the carrot and zucchini or any other summer squash for the eggplant.

Ratatouille calls for a fairly specific list of vegetables: eggplant, tomatoes, zucchini, peppers, and usually onions. These are cooked slowly, together, with a lot of olive oil and some garlic. The dish is finished with fresh basil; how could it be bad? Needless to say, ratatouille is best in midsummer, when the vegetables are at their peak. It can be served hot or at room temperature and is delicious both ways. It’s especially good with grilled sausage.

Tempura is not the only batter-fried appetizer in the world; in fact, many cuisines have a similar dish, and some of these recipes follow. But tempura is very light, easy to make, and pretty much foolproof; chances are you’ll get it right even on your first try. Shrimp is the most common seafood, and probably the best, for use in tempura, but there’s no reason you couldn’t use other shellfish or even finfish. As for vegetables, it’s a matter of whatever is on hand. Harder vegetables, like winter squash and carrots, should be cut into thin slices so they become tender at about the same time they are browned. More tender vegetables—zucchini, eggplant, mushrooms, and the like—can be made larger or even, in the case of mushrooms or green beans, kept whole. Tempura, like most fried foods, must be served immediately. It will hold in a low oven for a few minutes, but as we all know it’s at its best the second it’s done. As long as you’re comfortable with your guests, serve each piece as you make it, in your kitchen. For frying, use a light, clean oil; grapeseed is probably best, but the more common (and cheaper) corn and safflower are good too. A frying or instant-read thermometer is a good idea, and temperatures of 330–350°F will work well for both vegetables and fish. If you don’t have a thermometer, put a drop of batter into the oil when you think it’s ready; it should neither sink to the bottom (too cold) nor immediately dance on the surface (too hot), but sink slightly beneath the surface and then rise to the top and skitter a bit.

Similar to Tempura (recipe follows), these are usually made only with vegetables—but a very wide assortment—and the batter is best when prepared with chickpea flour (also called besan or gram flour and available at Indian and many Asian markets and most health food stores). Traditionally, the batter also often contains anardana, a powder made from ground pomegranate seeds—if you can find some (try the same stores that have besan), add a teaspoon to the batter, along with the garam masala. Pakora batter can also be fried on its own, as a fritter; mix a medium onion, chopped, into it, and drop it by the tablespoon into the hot oil.

You can make eggplant into fritters, seasoned with almost anything you like, but my taste here runs to Parmesan; the combination is magical. Fritters are usually deep-fried, but it isn’t necessary in this case. Here they are made into flat, pancake like forms and cooked in far less oil. Like most fried foods, these are best hot; but, as with most fritters, they’re acceptable up to a half hour after they’ve been made (and, though I wouldn’t serve them to company this way, they’re pretty good cold).

Its flavor bears no resemblance to real caviar, its ingredients (except for the salt) have nothing to do with caviar, but its texture—supposedly—is akin to that of caviar. If there are enough seeds in your eggplant—not necessarily a good thing—I suppose you could argue that its graininess is like that of caviar. In any case, it’s a wonderful spread for Crostini (page 41), as a dip for fresh vegetables, or as a stuffing for roasted peppers or tomatoes (pages 492).

You are served this everywhere in Istanbul and everywhere told this story: the dish is so delicious that the imam or priest to whom it was served simply fainted—“bayildi.” (Some people say he was so very thrifty that he fainted at the profligate amount of olive oil used, but since olive oil is no longer especially expensive—and a half cup is not that much, after all—you can enjoy this dish without guilt.) As is almost always the case, the small, light-skinned “Japanese” eggplants work best because they lack the bitterness common to larger eggplants. If you cannot get those, use the smallest eggplants you can find. This dish is always served at room temperature (or cold), so make it ahead of time.

I recall having a version of this dish in Greece, and I am sure the Greeks brought it to Sicily, and I am sure the Sicilians brought it to America. I have found it at weddings and on the menus of Italian restaurants across America. It is a great dish for a large party and for a buffet table. I like it best hot out of the oven, but it is also good at room temperature. “Eggplant” is a misnomer: the vegetable is neither white nor shaped like an egg. However, the first eggplants to arrive in Europe were a rare oval-shaped white variety, and the name stuck. When buying eggplants, look for even color and firm feel. The eggplant should be heavy relative to its size; when you pick it up at the market, it should be firm and crisp, not spongy, to the touch.

While the word parmigiana literally means “from Parma,” a town in northern Italy, this dish is clearly Sicilian in origin. Here you have the traditional eggplant-parmigiana recipe that everyone loves. This versatile dish can be made in advance and baked when your guests arrive. It reheats well as a leftover and makes a great sandwich as well. In Italy, sometimes it is not even baked, but assembled with sauce and a generous sprinkling of grated Grana Padano, eliminating the mozzarella, and eaten straightaway. And at Roberto’s, on Arthur Avenue in the Bronx, I found alternating layers of eggplant and zucchini—delicious.

This dish exemplifies Sicilian cooking, especially in the late-summer months, when eggplant, tomatoes, and peppers are at their best. The same kind of summer-vegetable preparation also appears in French ratatouille. But the difference is that the Sicilians make it agrodolce, sweet and sour: cooking some vinegar and sugar, then tossing with the vegetables. The acidity in the vinegar hinders spoilage, and in hot New Orleans summers, this dish keeps well without refrigeration. Caponata requires a lot of preparation, but once done it keeps well in the refrigerator for up to ten days, and freezes well, so it makes sense to make a big batch. It is a very versatile dish—as an appetizer with some cheese, as a side dish, or as a delicious sandwich stuffer. Actually, it improves if left to steep for a while. I love it at room temperature with a piece of grilled meat or fish.

Pollo alla sorrentina is always topped with eggplant and melted mozzarella. But what does that have to do with Sorrento? Naples and Sorrento are in the region of Campania, where the best mozzarella comes from, so it would make sense that it would be used for cooking there. In Italy, rarely do you find the name of a locale in the title of the dish. On the other hand, the names of many Italian American dishes seem to include cities in Italy. The choice seems to be driven by nostalgia, remembering and honoring one’s place of birth in the recollection of how things tasted there.

A simple dish that I loved as a child (and still adore) is beaten eggs cooked in a small pan of bubbling melanzana affogata (or Slow-Cooked Summer Tomato and Eggplant Sauce, page 259). Here’s how to make enough for 4 servings: