Eggplant: A Love Story

I have always been willing to eat almost anything. Wild sorrel, rattlesnake, ostrich, zebra, clover; you name it, I would at least try it. There were two exceptions, though. One was, and still is, kale. This is not a food. It’s a garnish at best. The best kale soup has all the ingredients of kale soup except kale. We are not inviting discussion here. The second was eggplant. Americans tend to eat it two ways: as eggplant Parmesan, which is foolish, when there is a perfectly acceptable veal cutlet nearby, and in ratatouille, where the eggplant is just lost in a sea of tomatoes and other vegetables.

In the summer of 2012, I was hired as a steward on board the E/V Nautilus, Dr. Robert Ballard’s research vessel. There I met Recep, the marvelous Turkish cook. A diminutive yet very strong man who was always arguing with his wife on the phone, I began to believe that shouting was the standard expression of love in Turkey. My job was to teach Recep the American style of cooking for the American guests and scientists, and I did that, to the best of my ability. Since he didn’t speak English and I didn’t speak Turkish it was more difficult than usual, but we managed. I do feel, however, that Recep taught me more than I taught him. He taught me how to make khoufti, a lamb meatball specialty. He showed me how to make Turkish-style rice and some fantastic chicken wings. He taught me how wonderful it is to sit at the end of the day and enjoy a cup of chai and cookies while you watch the sunset. And thanks to Recep, I now actually enjoy eggplant.

Eggplant cannot be eaten raw, but it’s not that dangerous, it’s just gross. (Eggplants have on average 10 mg of solanine in an average fruit, so you would have to eat 36 of them to be dangerous.) For it to taste good, eggplant is going to be complete and utter mush before you add any other ingredients. Recep prepared eggplant two ways; I cook prefer the second way.

The first way: Poke a bunch of holes in the skin. Put in deep fryer basket. Cover with another basket so it stays submerged. Place baskets into 325° oil and fry about 15 minutes until eggplant is completely soft and cooked thoroughly. Let cool, then scrape the flesh out of the skin.

The second way: Poke holes in the skin. Brush very lightly with olive oil. Cook on hot grill, turning every two or three minutes until outside is charred and eggplant is completely soft and cooked thoroughly. In fact, when you think it’s done, let it go 5 more minutes. Let cool and scrape eggplant out of skin.

You see why I like method two: you’ve got a lovely char flavor and I’m a bit uncomfortable eating something that thoroughly deep fried.

From this point on there a number of ways to proceed. I’m going to give you two recipes, both very simple, both very delicious. I think you’ll like them both. If so, let me know. If not, that’s ok too, I just want to hear about it less. Here’s to eggplant!