I read recently that a food writer didn’t like eggplant because it made their tongue sting. People often have a similar response to eggplant but I love it for it’s sweet and creamy qualities. I’ve had my share of eggplant improperly prepared, and wondered where the food writer had been.
When I see eggplant on a menu in a Chinese or Thai restaurant, I order it without hesitation. Eggplant is also a delicious staple of Near Eastern cooking. I’ve had it prepared in Indian kitchens where it was simply roasted until it collapsed. The flesh, once scraped from the skin, was flavored with yogurt, garlic and a bit of heat. I may eat and cry, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing. My experience has been that some cultures know what eggplant is supposed to be, and they cook accordingly.
I’m going to order eggplant when I see it in an Italian restaurant for the same reasons. A dish like Eggplant Parmesan works in great part because the preparation calls for salting the eggplant slices first to draw out bitter juices. Next it’s fried. Eggplant takes to being fried because as an Italian friend of mine likes to observe, “Anything that tastes good, tastes better fried.” Afterwards the eggplant might be layered with cheese, ragu, béchamel, or some variation thereof, topped with sauce and cooked more by baking. When it’s served to you piping hot from the gratin dish, it doesn’t bite but rather is characterized by a very satisfying creaminess and sweetness.
When I worked with Josephine Araldo on her cookbook “From A Breton Garden,” she had 60-plus years of experience cooking professionally. The recipes and materials she handed to me contained dishes she’d learned from her Grandmother some of which date from the mid 1800’s. She also had dishes she’d learned when training at the Cordon Bleu where she graduated around 1920. She had a view of things that spanned a century. I loved that if I picked up the phone to talk with her, I could have the benefit of that hundred and fifty years in time. I vowed early on that if I thought about her, I’d call.
Some of Josephine’s recipes were like the one I just described. A vegetable would be treated to three different cooking processes. I once asked her why that was. I mean, I lived in California, America, where under-done was almost P.C., the order of the day. She said, “Robeirt, you need to understand that vegetables are like meat – you can cook them to the bone.” I realized immediately that meat cooked to the bone is a magnificent thing unto itself. I learned that vegetables cooked to the bone were decidedly more flavorful than those quickly sautéed, (the exception being how perfectly the Chinese kitchen quick sautes).
Salting is a cooking technique and with a vegetable like eggplant it helps draw water and to soften fiber. We often rely on both those factors help us decide whether a vegetable is cooked. Is there enough loss of water? Is the fiber soft? When we answer those questions to our satisfaction, then we’re in agreement (if only with ourselves) that the thing is cooked. When under-done, with the fiber not sufficiently broken down, and sugars not sufficiently developed, you get acidity that bites your tongue. Not our specialty.
Frying lends color to the vegetable, and that always equates with flavor. Browning is caramelizing, a concentration of the flavor of the browned element. Browned food is almost uniformly good. The heat required to get a vegetable brown also usually helps to break down fiber even further. In the case of eggplant, when the fiber breaks down, the starches have cooked sufficiently to convert to sugars. At that point you get sweet eggplant taste. The accompanying soft fiber gives the effect of creaminess. Those tastes of cream and sugar are eggplant’s essential nature. Welcome to the new eggplant.
EGGPLANT FRIES
1 or 2 medium sized eggplants, about ½ pound each
Sea salt
All purpose flour for dusting the fries
Good frying oil, Safflower, peanut, grape seed (not olive)
Peel the skins; remove the stems. Slice the eggplant lengthwise in finger-thick (1/2 inch) slices. Lay them on a board and salt them lightly and uniformly on both sides. Allow them to sit for until water starts to bead on the surface (about 5 to 7 minutes). Pat them dry with paper towels.
While the slices draw water, heat half an inch of oil in a 9-inch straight-sided skillet.
Have some things ready before you start to fry.
First, a sifter large enough to hold enough fries to fill the skillet in a single layer without crowding.
Second, have a large bowl with a cup of so of flour, where you will toss the fries to coat them just prior to frying. Don’t coat them with flour and let them lie around, they will just get soggy, and not give you a good crisp result.
Third have skimmer ready to remove the finished fries.
Finally, have a sheet pan, lined with paper towels, ready for the cooked fries, and to absorb any excess oil once the fries are done.
Pat the slices dry with paper towels once more. Then cut them into French fry shapes 1/2-inch thick
Once the oil is hot, take a handful or two of fries; toss them into the bowl with flour to coat uniformly. Remove them to the sifter; shake to rid them of excess flour. (Sometimes I do this step twice.)
Immediately put the eggplant in the hot oil. Carefully using tongs, arrange them so they don’t clump, then leave them alone until they brown evenly, about 2 or 3 minutes. Remove them to drain on the paper towels and season with salt. Keep them warm in the oven while you repeat the same frying procedure with the next batch. Serve the fries on their own, or as the accompaniment to almost any main course meat or fowl.
