Friday, May 11, 2012

Eggplant Endeavors


           Eggplant. It’s not a beautiful name. It’s not romantic or appealing. The name doesn’t even invoke curiosity to find out what is behind the unfamiliar word – maybe instead it does the opposite and repulses you. Say it to yourself. Eggplant. Kind of awkward; definitely unattractive. What has this innocent plant done to deserve such a name?  Poor thing, it’s not just in the English language that it has a less-than-alluring name. At one time all plants in the nightshade family, of which the tomato, eggplant, and potato are a part, were believed to be toxic. This is reflected in various names for the plant. The Italian word for eggplant is melanzana, from mela non sana, or “unhealthy apple”, because it was once believed that it was poisonous, and is still believed to be toxic when eaten raw. Other Mediterranean populations called the fruit (like its cousin the tomato it is, in fact, a fruit) mala insana, “crazy apple” because they believe it would make anyone who ate it crazy.
            My first experience with eggplant was also not the most wonderful. I remember it vividly – I was in the third grade and we were writing a play for school. The characters were different fruits and vegetables: there was a jolly blueberry, a stupid but lovable stalk of broccoli, a sexy strawberry, an intelligent zucchini squash, and an unpleasant eggplant who was always in a bad mood: Eggbert Eggplant. At this point in my life, I had never eaten an eggplant…and this play assured that I never wanted to eat one. You know the TV shows for kids in which the characters are likeable fruits and vegetables so that kids will feel comfortable towards them and eat more? This experience had exactly that effect but opposite – every time I thought (and still sometimes when I think) about eggplant, I thought about unlikable and unpleasant people.
            My disinterest in the eggplant was amplified by the uncomfortable sound of the word itself: eggplant. To write this blog, I decided to do a little research on the history of the name. In reality, the name does not reflect any qualities of the eggplant we know today. The word was created in the 1600-1700’s when European traders brought back the fruit from its indigenous Asia. The species of eggplant that was brought back was a white-yellow fruit about the size of a goose egg. So it looked like an egg, but was a plant…the Europeans were faced with a difficult task in naming this new specimen? The first name that they tried, plantegg, didn’t go over well, so the imaginative  Englishmen choose the ever-more creative eggplant. With the years, Americans kept this name, but our English cousins opted for the more "fancy" French trend of aubergine, originally from the Arabic al-badinjan. This difference in names reflects the differences in our historical stories and our rebellious American spirit. In England the French language enjoyed a high prestige as the official language in various sectors of society for centuries after the Norman Invasion (it actually remained the official language of the courts until 1731). Therefore, it is highly likely that the English choose the French aubergine over the creative and beautiful eggplant for reasons of prestige. However, for us Americans, prestige was found in doing exactly what the English weren’t doing or the opposite of whatever they were doing, and therefore we choose to go with the other word. If the English call it aubergine, no way we’re doing the same. God bless America and its eggplants!
            Although I love eggplants today, I honestly did not even begin trying to eat them until I was 23 years old, when I was living in Chicago and worked at a Lebanese restaurant. Lebanese cuisine is famous for its baba ghanoush, a delicious puree of roasted eggplant, made very similarly to hummus and DELICOUS. My lunches became baba and pita several times a week, and from this discovery that I liked the food, I branched  out a bit and came more in contact with the food. My travels in Sicily resulted in the most delicious bites of pasta alla norma (made with rigatoni, eggplant, ricotta salata, and red sauce), parmigiana (not the kind we think of, but something more like a layered casserole of fried eggplant, Emmenthaler cheese, and red sauce), and my personal favorite, grilled eggplant. These were all delicious, but I hold dear my first experience with eggplant in that taste of baba ghanoush, and today that is the recipe that I want to share, in addition to how to choose a good eggplant when buying it and how to prepare it for cooking.
            Finding a good eggplant and treating it correctly before cooking are the most important factors to creating a delicious dish. The eggplant is part of the nightshade family, which also includes the potato and tomato. Members of this family contain alkaloids, cousins of nicotine and morphine and which can be toxic when eaten in very large quantities, and the eggplant has the highest level of alkaloids in the family. Never fear, however! Unless you are planning on eating 36 raw eggplants at any time in your life (the amount you’d have to eat to get a harmful effect), you are safe! Alkaloids are found in the seeds and even if they aren’t going to kill you by eating one of the fruits, they do give a distinct bitterness that is often quite unpleasant. So, first thing when choosing an eggplant: avoid the unpleasant bitterness. Older eggplants are usually bigger, which means they have more seeds. Therefore, choose the younger, smaller ones. If you are faced with only large, old eggplants, consider the sex.  Eggplants are male and female, and can be distinguished as such by looking at the bottom end (away from the part where it was attached to the vine). Female eggplants, recognizable by the light brown, deeper oval indentation, have more seeds and therefore more alkaloids. Male eggplants, which have a shallow, round naval, contain less seeds and less bitterness. In addition to avoiding bitterness, it is important to choose a fresh and healthy eggplant. The skin should be firm without any wrinkles or pronounced imperfections. The stem at the top should have a clean cut and not be too dry (a dry stem means it was harvested a long time ago). The last thing to do is press on the skin, it should give a little but then spring right back to its original form.
            After choosing an eggplant, it is necessary to rid the fruit of its water, which carries a lot of the bitterness. This can be done in several ways: cut the eggplant into rounds or long pieces, place in a colander in the sink or on a cooling rack with a pan underneath, and salt heavily. This breaks down the cells and releases the water; leave the eggplant to drain for 2-3 hours (sometimes I even do more), and then rinse, squeeze, and pat dry. The other option, as is the case with baba ghanoush, is to roast the eggplant whole, peel the skin, and put the roasted meat in a strainer with a bowl underneath for 30 minutes. (Side note: I’m really emphasizing the importance of avoiding the bitterness because it really ruins the dish for me – if you’re into it, go for it! After all is said and done, it’s you who has to like your dish).
            As I ‘ve mentioned, today I will share the recipe of my first experience with eggplant: baba ghanoush. Baba ghanoush is a typical dish of Mideastern cuisine, particularly in the region that contains Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, Israel, and Palestine. This puree is made with roasted eggplant and a paste of ground sesame seeds called tahini (found in Arabic specialty stores and increasingly in American groceries and markets). If you do not feel like putting tahini in the baba, you can try substituting a sesame oil (I might only do one tablespoon) or leaving it out all together. This food is traditionally served with pita, but can also be eaten on top of crostini for a twist on bruschetta or however else you choose to eat it.

Baba Ghanoush (adapted from Alton Brown’s Recipe)
1 eggplant
2 cloves of garlic
¼ cup fresh lemon juice (bottled has a much milder flavor, and this recipe needs the pop that you get from fresh lemon juice)
2 tablespoons of tahini paste
parsley
salt, pepper

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Poke holes with a fork in the eggplant and then place it on a cooling rack with a pan underneath it to catch any water that might escape and roast for 30-45 minutes. *If you do not poke holes in the eggplant to allow gases to release, it will explode, which might be cool to watch but much less so to clean.*   
When the eggplant looks a little shriveled, take it out and let cool for 15 minutes. 
Then, remove the skin and place the meat in a colander over a bowl and let drain for 30 minutes (throw away the alkaloid-laden liquid at the bottom). 
Place the pulp, garlic, lemon juice, and tahini in a food processor or blender and mix. Salt and pepper to taste – if the baba is still too bitter, you can always add a bit of honey or sugar to balance the flavors. To finish, add parsley and lightly pulse to give the leaves a few chops. 
Serve cold or at room temperature with pita or anything else you desire.

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