Country Fare eggplant
by Diana Cercone
Growing up in an Italian family, I learned at an early age to love the taste of eggplant. They were as plentiful on my mother’s table as her meatballs. My grandfather, Rocco, grew them in his vegetable garden.
Luckily for us, he lived next door. From mid-July to late October hardly a week went by without one or two of my mother’s eggplant creations. She would fry thin slices of eggplant for Parmesan or stuff them with a mix of ground beef, tomatoes and ricotta, sprinkling them with grated Locatelli cheese and breadcrumbs, and set them in the oven to bake. One of my favorites was her fried eggplant chunks that she would dip in egg and breadcrumbs be-fore frying. I would gobble them up like potato chips.
When I left for college, stuffed among the family photos I brought with me were her eggplant recipes. Since then I’ve added many of my own—still keeping to the Italian varieties I grew up with. But that was before I met Brenda Slack.
Brenda grows a variety of eggplant on her farm, Milk House Farm & Market, in Newtown. The farm and farmhouse sit on top of a narrow ribbon of a road named after her family and is as picturesque as a Hollywood movie set. Brenda is the 4th generation of Slacks to run the farm, which dates to the 1850s. She’s the first to grow vegetables. Everyone else in her family were dairy farmers.
I first met Brenda at the Wrightstown Farmers Market five years ago. (She also sells at The Stockton Market and at her farm.) Holding a round, green vegetable in her hand, she assured me that it was an eggplant. I now know that it’s an heirloom called Green Apple because it resembles a small Granny Smith. When cut in half its seed pattern duplicate that of an apple. When cooked, its texture is creamy and its flavor is mild which marries well with subtle or savory spices and herbs.
On this day we’re sitting on lawn chairs while her hens, Rhode Island Red and Leghorn Cross, happily roam in front of us. (Brenda’s also known for her eggs, selling them at the markets as well as to The Logan Inn and the Inn at Barley Sheaf Farm.) Her love of vegetables, she says, came from her Nana (her mother’s mother), who was a cook at The Logan Inn in the 1960s. “String beans, broccoli—and always eggplant for sure. Love it dipped in egg, breaded and fried. What Nana would make, I would eat,” she says. “My Pop-Pop taught me how to grow and care for vegetables; my dad shared with me his animal knowledge.”
This year Brenda’s growing seven eggplant varieties: Ping Tung Long, Green Apple, Japanese, Rosa Bianca, Black Beauty, Barbarella and Nubia. Though the last four are considered Italian varieties, all eggplant or aubergine, its French name, are native of Asia, where the name aubergine is a derivative of an ancient Sanskrit name. Many came from India, where it is known as brinjal, and has been cultivated for more than 4,000 years. As imagined, the recipes are countless, with everything from condiments such as eggplant chutney to savory sides to a mainstay of entrees, including one of my favorites, Dhansak, a flavorful Parsi dish of lamb, lentils and eggplant.
The Moors are credited with introducing this versatile vegetable to Europe, first to Spain then to the Mediterranean countries, which enthusiastically embraced the eggplant as their own. No respectable Provencal bistro’s menu would be complete without ratatouille, an ambrosial stew of eggplant slowing simmered with other vegetables, nor a Greek restaurant without moussaka with its sublime layers of eggplant slices and a spiced meat filling covered with a satiny Bechamel sauce. Then there’s the Turkish dish, Imam Bayildi, which means the “iman fainted from pleasure,” a stuffed eggplant dish with endless variations. And what can I say about the Italians? So proud are they of their eggplant creations, everything from apps to sides to main dishes—even to desserts—they think of them as a native vegetable.
“The eggplant and its plant,” says Brenda, “are both beautiful, with the plants growing to three feet high.” Interestingly before the English stopped thinking the eggplant poisonous (They thought it caused epilepsy) and discovered its culinary prowess, they used them only for decoration.)
But eggplant are not only culinary divas, they’re an excellent source of vitamins B1 and B6 and potassium, as well as contain copper, magnesium, manganese, phosphorus, niacin and folic acid. Don’t peel the skin unless the recipe calls for it. The skin is where much of the flavor lies and is loaded with nasunin, a powerful antioxidant and free-radical hunter, as well as protects the lipids (fats) in brain cell membranes.
I’m not sure if there is a definitive count of the varieties of eggplants.
They come in all shapes, sizes and glorious colors, including purple, lavender, green and orange, even stripes. Here, in America, we’re just beginning to have access to the many varieties. To a large extent, this is thanks to local farmers like Brenda who take a risk every time they grow a vegetable variety not familiar to us. Because of her, the Green Apple, with its creamy texture, is now a favorite addition to my mother’s caponata recipe. “For vegetarian and vegan friends,” says Brenda, “grill them slices of the robust Barbarella for a hamburger they’ll long savor.”
Look for firm eggplants to ensure freshness. Just remember: Though they look sturdy—even the long slender ones like the Japanese and Ping Tung—they are highly perishable. If possible do not refrigerate eggplant. If not using that day, store in plastic bags in a cool place for 36 hours or, for longer storage, in a brown bag in the warmest part of your fridge—just expect some browning and soft spots.
Now I’m always looking for new eggplant recipes to try. So when I heard that Melissa Hamilton and Christopher Hirsheimer have added a new cookbook this fall to their award-winning series Canal House Cooking, I knew they’d have ones I needed to try. Melissa and Christopher create the books in their Lambertville test kitchen and studio. In their latest cookbook, Canal House Vol. N° 8, Pronto!, they didn’t disappoint. As my grandfather Rocco would say of their recipes, they’re “Delizioso!”
Recipe
Marinated Raw Eggplant, from Canal House Cooking, Volume N°8, Pronto! by Melissa Hamilton and Christopher Hirsheimer. Makes about 1 pint
Eggplant are often salted and left to drain for a few hours to draw out some of their liquid. In this dish, the eggplant drain a particularly long time—it both rids them of any unpleasant bitterness and begins to “cook” or preserve the eggplant. They are then well primed to soak up the vinegary marinade. Use a good mellow red wine vinegar, if you can. We spoon this piquant eggplant and its flavorful oil onto crostini, and serve them with cocktails or a glass of wine.
4 small Japanese or other small,
narrow eggplants (about 1 pound)
3 tablespoons kosher salt
2-3 tablespoons red wine vinegar
4 fresh basil leaves, torn
1 large clove garlic, thinly sliced
1/2 teaspoon crushed red
pepper flakes
Extra-virgin olive oil
Trim and peel the eggplant. Cut lengthwise into 1/4-inch-thick slices, then cut each slice crosswise into 1/4-inch-wide strips. Toss the eggplant with the salt in a colander. Set the colander over a bowl. Drain at room temperature for 24 hours.
Transfer the eggplant to a clean kitchen towel and squeeze dry. Discard the liquid in the bowl. Put the eggplant into a medium bowl, toss with the vinegar, and let it sit for about 1 hour to absorb the vinegar.
Add the basil, garlic, and red pepper flakes to the eggplant and toss well. Spoon the eggplant into a glass pint jar with a lid. Pour enough olive oil to cover the eggplant, adding more if the eggplant absorbs the oil. There should be a layer of olive oil covering the eggplant. Cover the jar. Let the eggplant marinate in the refrigerator for at least 1 week and up to 2 weeks before serving.
Diana Cercone is an area freelance writer who specializes in food, art and travel.