Don’t the quotes in the title look silly? Or, excuse me, “silly”? But they’re actually accurate; this is indeed pretty much like lasagna, in that it has layers of meat and cheese and tomato sauce, only it has eggplant instead of those pesky noodles. Like lasagna, the tastes meld together beautifully. And also like lasagna, it’s pretty labor-intensive, but it can conveniently be made ahead of time and baked later, so it’s good for company. I of course didn’t take advantage of this when I made it on Monday night; I just plodded along through the whole recipe while engaged in a long phone conversation—always a risky undertaking, but I didn’t get distracted enough to ruin anything.
I think this may be from Bruce Aidells’ Sausage Cookbook; anyway, I’d only made it once before. The results of the first trial had obviously been good enough to keep the recipe around, but I do recall it turning out too oily and heavy. So my challenge during Round 2 was to see if it could be made less greasy—and, therefore, worthy of keeping in the long term. I am happy to announce that I succeeded. The problem had simply been eggplant’s amazing ability to soak up oil like a sponge; the first time, I’d followed the recipe’s instructions to “drizzle with several tablespoons of oil.” This time, I used the oil very sparingly and cut down on the quantity of cheese (1 pound is a lot of mozzarella—you just don’t need that much). And the result was a nice, savory dish, rich but not overwhelming.
Both times, I’ve made a half-recipe, by the way. We just don’t need that much leftover “lasagna” cluttering up the refrigerator.
Postscript, December 2009: Ultimately, this proved to be too labor-intensive and rich to earn a regular place in my rotation, so I'm banishing it to the "Not Favorites" category. I'm still not a huge eggplant lover, try as I might.
2 medium-large eggplants
olive oil
2 pounds hot or sweet Italian sausage
2 medium onions, chopped
4 tablespoons chopped garlic
¼ teaspoon fennel seeds
2 tablespoons chopped fresh basil
½ pound sliced mushrooms
16 ounces canned tomato sauce
1 cup dry white wine
salt and pepper to taste
1 pound thinly sliced mozzarella cheese, or to taste (I use less)
½ pound freshly grated Parmesan, or to taste (I use less)
1. Heat a large, deep skillet over medium-high heat. Slice sausage into 1/2-inch pieces. When the skillet is hot, add the sausage slices and brown for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.
2. When the sausage is brown, remove it from the pan with a slotted spoon and put it on a paper-towel-lined plate to drain. Turn down the heat to medium, add the onion and garlic to the sausage drippings, and cook them for about 5 minutes. When the onions are soft, add the fennel, basil, and mushrooms and sauté for about 5 minutes. Add the tomato sauce and the wine, bring the sauce to a boil, and decrease the heat to a simmer. Simmer the sauce for about 30 minutes.
3. While the sauce is cooking, preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Line a large baking sheet with tinfoil and then very lightly oil the surface. Trim the ends off the eggplant, peel it, and slice it lengthwise (be careful not to make the slices too thin, by the way, or they’ll overcook and get limp and useless). Place the slices on the baking sheet and brush them with the barest possible amount of olive oil. Put the baking sheet in the oven to cook for 20-30 minutes, or until the eggplant is soft. About midway through, flip the slices over, just to see how they're cooking (and to keep them from sticking to the sheet too much). When eggplant is tender, remove from oven and reduce heat to 350 degrees.
4. When the tomato sauce has simmered for 30 minutes, add the sausage and cook about 10 minutes longer, then add some pepper and a little salt and remove from heat.
5. Get out your 9x13 baking dish (since I was doing a half recipe, I used a 9x9). Place a layer of eggplant on the bottom of the dish, cover it with a layer of the tomato-sausage sauce, and then add a layer of sliced mozzarella and grated Parmesan. Continue layering ingredients, ending with a layer of cheese on top. (The recipe notes that the “lasagna” can be made ahead to this point and refrigerated overnight.)
6. Bake 20-30 minutes, until the sauce is bubbly and the cheese is melted and beginning to brown on top. Remove from oven, let it rest for 10 minutes, and then slice and serve.
Serves: 8
Time: 1½ hours
Showing posts with label Eggplant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eggplant. Show all posts
Friday, October 29, 2004
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
RATATOUILLE AND VARIATIONS
We are butting heads over ratatouille at my house. I made this recipe for the first time a few months ago (Where did I get it, though? Can’t remember) during my early experimentations with eggplant and really liked it—the sweetness of the onions, the smokiness of the eggplant, the freshness of the other vegetables, the brightness of the herbs. A was not so enthused. At first he said it was OK, but then after I made it a second time he revealed he didn’t really enjoy it. He said it was like pasta sauce with no pasta. Lord knows we don’t need any more pasta recipes, so putting it over pasta was out. But I was open to the idea of serving it some other way, maybe over bread, like a sandwich? Then I was reading Ready When You Are: A Compendium of Comforting One-Dish Meals by Martha Rose Schulman, and saw that after her ratatouille recipe (which was pretty much the same as mine) she listed some things to do with leftover eggplant, including a gratin that sounded quite tasty. That would employ 2½ cups of ratatouille—but what to do with the rest? Eventually I concocted a crazy Tuesday-night cooking itinerary in which I would (1) make ratatouille, a somewhat time-consuming recipe in itself; (2) serve some of the ratatouille with mozzarella on toasted French bread; and (3) make the rest into a gratin to have for lunch the next day. All before the finale of The Amazing Race began at 9:00.
Astoundingly, it worked out just fine. Granted, I cut a few corners, but it didn’t affect the quality of the food as far as I’m concerned. For instance, the letting the eggplant sit in the colander for 1-3 hours--I had done this in the past (I usually make ratatouille on Sundays, since it’s slightly time-consuming), but this time I just couldn’t be bothered. I skipped all of it. And it didn’t really affect the taste or texture in any negative way I could ascertain. I guess the salt is supposed to draw out the moisture? and pressing it, of course, makes it squooshier. Maybe I’d still do it if I had the time, but I believe the lazy or harried person could avoid it with no ill effects. I really could not face peeling the tomatoes, either. The ratatouille is supposed to be rustic anyway, so who cares about a few stray tomato skins?
The ratatouille was tasty as always, hearty but not heavy, and I liked it with the bread and cheese. A called this “a 100% improvement” over plain ratatouille, but then disappointingly admitted he still doesn’t really like ratatouille; I guess it’s a texture thing. That made me a bit cranky, as I now have to feel guilty about inflicting it on him in the future. The gratin looked yummy coming out of the oven. By the time lunch rolled around today and it came time to try some, however, I was skeptical, remembering I don’t really like eggs all that much, the crispy top would be soggy, and I’m suddenly feeling under the weather with either allergies or a cold (drippy nose, muffled sense of taste, reduced appetite). It was really good, though—and even, as Martha Rose Schulman promised, comforting. Enough so that I wished for a bigger piece, which is testamonial enough, I think.
So: many ways to eat your ratatouille. I bet it would also be good over pasta, or even maybe over chicken. Martha also suggests serving ratatouille in a tart, omelettes, frittata, or crepes. But to me, it will always be fine just plain, too. Even if I have to eat it alone and in secret, away from Mr. Unappreciative.
Postscript, December 2009: I guess A finally defeated me, because I never make this anymore. I don't really feel the urge to revisit it, either, so it's moving to the sad "not favorites" category.
RATATOUILLE
2 large eggplants (2-2½ pounds total)
2 large zucchini (about 1½ pounds total)
4 tablespoons olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
1 medium cloves garlic, minced
3 medium ripe tomatoes, cored, peeled, and cut into 2-inch cubes (you can skip peeling if you want)
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
2 tablespoons chopped fresh basil
1 tablespoon minced fresh thyme
salt and pepper
1. Trim the ends off the eggplant, discard, and cut the rest of the eggplant into 1-inch cubes. Place in a colander, sprinkle it with 2 teaspoons salt, let it stand 1-3 hours, rinse it well, and press it between paper towels until it's dry, firm, and compressed. (If you're in a hurry, it's OK to let the salted eggplant sit for less than an hour.)
2. Preheat the oven to 500 degrees. Line one or two large rimmed baking sheets with tinfoil (you need enough space to fit all the eggplant and zucchini in a single layer). Put the eggplant on the baking sheet(s), then trim and cube the zucchini and add that. Toss the eggplant and zucchini with 2 tablespoons oil and sprinkle with salt. Roast in the oven until well browned and tender, about 30-40 minutes, stirring every 10 minutes.
3. Meanwhile, heat the remaining 2 tablespoons oil in a large, heavy skillet over medium heat. Add the onion, reduce the heat to medium-low, and cook, stirring frequently, until softened and golden brown, about 20 minutes.
4. When the onions are thoroughly soft and caramelized, add the garlic and cook for 30 seconds. Then add the tomatoes and cook them until they began to break down, about 5 minutes.
5. When the eggplant and zucchini have finished roasting, remove from the oven and add to the skillet, stirring gently until all the ingredients are combined. Cook everything for about 5 minutes, add the herbs and salt and pepper to taste, and it's done.
Serves: 4-6
Time: 1 hour
RATATOUILLE ON CHEESY TOAST (my own invention)
Ratatouille
French bread
mozzarella cheese
When the ratatouille was done, I scooped out 2½ cups to use for the gratin and then turned on the broiler in the oven. I took the tinfoil off my baking sheet and threw it away, and the baking sheet was pretty clean underneath, so I kept on using it. I sliced some French bread (I did two servings of two large slices each), laid the slices on the baking sheet, and broiled them just for 30 seconds to a minute, until they had firmed up but hadn’t started to brown. Took them out of the oven, sliced some mozzarella cheese, set it atop the bread, stuck it back in the oven, and broiled it very briefly, until the cheese was melted and just starting to get browned. I’d recommend actually standing there and watching it cook, because it cooks so fast (I burned the first two slices of bread I tried to do and had to start over). Put the cheesy toasts on some plates and spoon ratatouille over them. I ate this with my fingers, like big pieces of bruschetta, but you could use a knife and fork, or make a sandwich or something. This fed two of us, and there was enough ratatouille left over to cover two more slices of bread if I’d had them; I put it in a Tupperware container in the fridge for later. Next, I moved on to the gratin.
Serves: however many or few you want (probably 8, if you used all the ratatouille and didn’t make a gratin)
Time: a few minutes
RATATOUILLE GRATIN
2 to 2½ cups ratatouille
3 eggs
¾ cup milk or less
¼ teaspoon salt
freshly ground black pepper
2 ounces Gruyere cheese, grated (½ cup, tightly packed)
½ cup fresh bread crumbs
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 ounce Parmesan cheese, grated (¼ cup)
1. Heat the oven to 375 degrees and oil a 2-quart Pyrex baking dish.
2. Martha says to “Place the ratatouille in a strainer or colander set over a bowl. Let drain for 5 minutes.” Then you’re supposed to take whatever liquid accumulates in the bowl and measure it out, adding enough milk to total ¾ cup. She suggests you should only need ½ cup of milk, and the remaining ¼ cup should be gratin liquid. Well, here’s where Martha’s ratatouille and mine must differ, because I tried this and mine generated about 1 teaspoon of liquid. So, the full ¾ cup of milk for me, and I probably could have skipped the draining entirely.
3. Beat the eggs in a large bowl, then beat in the milk (which, hypothetically, is mixed with ratatouille liquid), salt, and pepper. Stir in the ratatouille and Gruyere. Pour all of this into the baking dish.
4. In a smaller bowl, toss together the bread crumbs, olive oil, and Parmesan. Sprinkle this in an even layer over the top of the gratin. Bake 30-40 minutes, until browned and fairly firm. Cut it into fourths and serve.
Serves: 4
Time: 45 minutes, mostly baking time
Astoundingly, it worked out just fine. Granted, I cut a few corners, but it didn’t affect the quality of the food as far as I’m concerned. For instance, the letting the eggplant sit in the colander for 1-3 hours--I had done this in the past (I usually make ratatouille on Sundays, since it’s slightly time-consuming), but this time I just couldn’t be bothered. I skipped all of it. And it didn’t really affect the taste or texture in any negative way I could ascertain. I guess the salt is supposed to draw out the moisture? and pressing it, of course, makes it squooshier. Maybe I’d still do it if I had the time, but I believe the lazy or harried person could avoid it with no ill effects. I really could not face peeling the tomatoes, either. The ratatouille is supposed to be rustic anyway, so who cares about a few stray tomato skins?
The ratatouille was tasty as always, hearty but not heavy, and I liked it with the bread and cheese. A called this “a 100% improvement” over plain ratatouille, but then disappointingly admitted he still doesn’t really like ratatouille; I guess it’s a texture thing. That made me a bit cranky, as I now have to feel guilty about inflicting it on him in the future. The gratin looked yummy coming out of the oven. By the time lunch rolled around today and it came time to try some, however, I was skeptical, remembering I don’t really like eggs all that much, the crispy top would be soggy, and I’m suddenly feeling under the weather with either allergies or a cold (drippy nose, muffled sense of taste, reduced appetite). It was really good, though—and even, as Martha Rose Schulman promised, comforting. Enough so that I wished for a bigger piece, which is testamonial enough, I think.
So: many ways to eat your ratatouille. I bet it would also be good over pasta, or even maybe over chicken. Martha also suggests serving ratatouille in a tart, omelettes, frittata, or crepes. But to me, it will always be fine just plain, too. Even if I have to eat it alone and in secret, away from Mr. Unappreciative.
Postscript, December 2009: I guess A finally defeated me, because I never make this anymore. I don't really feel the urge to revisit it, either, so it's moving to the sad "not favorites" category.
RATATOUILLE
2 large eggplants (2-2½ pounds total)
2 large zucchini (about 1½ pounds total)
4 tablespoons olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
1 medium cloves garlic, minced
3 medium ripe tomatoes, cored, peeled, and cut into 2-inch cubes (you can skip peeling if you want)
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
2 tablespoons chopped fresh basil
1 tablespoon minced fresh thyme
salt and pepper
1. Trim the ends off the eggplant, discard, and cut the rest of the eggplant into 1-inch cubes. Place in a colander, sprinkle it with 2 teaspoons salt, let it stand 1-3 hours, rinse it well, and press it between paper towels until it's dry, firm, and compressed. (If you're in a hurry, it's OK to let the salted eggplant sit for less than an hour.)
2. Preheat the oven to 500 degrees. Line one or two large rimmed baking sheets with tinfoil (you need enough space to fit all the eggplant and zucchini in a single layer). Put the eggplant on the baking sheet(s), then trim and cube the zucchini and add that. Toss the eggplant and zucchini with 2 tablespoons oil and sprinkle with salt. Roast in the oven until well browned and tender, about 30-40 minutes, stirring every 10 minutes.
3. Meanwhile, heat the remaining 2 tablespoons oil in a large, heavy skillet over medium heat. Add the onion, reduce the heat to medium-low, and cook, stirring frequently, until softened and golden brown, about 20 minutes.
4. When the onions are thoroughly soft and caramelized, add the garlic and cook for 30 seconds. Then add the tomatoes and cook them until they began to break down, about 5 minutes.
5. When the eggplant and zucchini have finished roasting, remove from the oven and add to the skillet, stirring gently until all the ingredients are combined. Cook everything for about 5 minutes, add the herbs and salt and pepper to taste, and it's done.
Serves: 4-6
Time: 1 hour
RATATOUILLE ON CHEESY TOAST (my own invention)
Ratatouille
French bread
mozzarella cheese
When the ratatouille was done, I scooped out 2½ cups to use for the gratin and then turned on the broiler in the oven. I took the tinfoil off my baking sheet and threw it away, and the baking sheet was pretty clean underneath, so I kept on using it. I sliced some French bread (I did two servings of two large slices each), laid the slices on the baking sheet, and broiled them just for 30 seconds to a minute, until they had firmed up but hadn’t started to brown. Took them out of the oven, sliced some mozzarella cheese, set it atop the bread, stuck it back in the oven, and broiled it very briefly, until the cheese was melted and just starting to get browned. I’d recommend actually standing there and watching it cook, because it cooks so fast (I burned the first two slices of bread I tried to do and had to start over). Put the cheesy toasts on some plates and spoon ratatouille over them. I ate this with my fingers, like big pieces of bruschetta, but you could use a knife and fork, or make a sandwich or something. This fed two of us, and there was enough ratatouille left over to cover two more slices of bread if I’d had them; I put it in a Tupperware container in the fridge for later. Next, I moved on to the gratin.
Serves: however many or few you want (probably 8, if you used all the ratatouille and didn’t make a gratin)
Time: a few minutes
RATATOUILLE GRATIN
2 to 2½ cups ratatouille
3 eggs
¾ cup milk or less
¼ teaspoon salt
freshly ground black pepper
2 ounces Gruyere cheese, grated (½ cup, tightly packed)
½ cup fresh bread crumbs
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 ounce Parmesan cheese, grated (¼ cup)
1. Heat the oven to 375 degrees and oil a 2-quart Pyrex baking dish.
2. Martha says to “Place the ratatouille in a strainer or colander set over a bowl. Let drain for 5 minutes.” Then you’re supposed to take whatever liquid accumulates in the bowl and measure it out, adding enough milk to total ¾ cup. She suggests you should only need ½ cup of milk, and the remaining ¼ cup should be gratin liquid. Well, here’s where Martha’s ratatouille and mine must differ, because I tried this and mine generated about 1 teaspoon of liquid. So, the full ¾ cup of milk for me, and I probably could have skipped the draining entirely.
3. Beat the eggs in a large bowl, then beat in the milk (which, hypothetically, is mixed with ratatouille liquid), salt, and pepper. Stir in the ratatouille and Gruyere. Pour all of this into the baking dish.
4. In a smaller bowl, toss together the bread crumbs, olive oil, and Parmesan. Sprinkle this in an even layer over the top of the gratin. Bake 30-40 minutes, until browned and fairly firm. Cut it into fourths and serve.
Serves: 4
Time: 45 minutes, mostly baking time
Wednesday, August 04, 2004
PASTA WITH ROASTED EGGPLANT, TOMATOES, AND FRESH HERBS
Eggplant is one of those things I recently taught myself to like, and I’m still sort of experimenting. This was my second time making this recipe, but the first time my eggplant had started to get overripe and I had to cut away so many bad spots, there wasn’t a lot left for the sauce and I wasn’t sure I was getting the full effect. Now that I’ve given if another shot, I’m still not sure. I flubbed up several steps of the recipe through carelessness or impatience, which may have affected the result. First, for some reason (perhaps thinking of the ratatouille recipe), I started trimming the ends of the eggplant and chopping it. DON’T DO THIS. The eggplant should be baked whole. Also, I didn’t peel the skin off the eggplant. (Hey, I was tired.) In retrospect, I would recommend peeling it. There’s nothing wrong with eggplant skin, but it changed the texture of the pasta sauce. Third, I sort of goofed by buying a 14-ounce can of whole tomatoes, which claimed to contain 3.5 ½-cup servings, thus satisfying the requirement for 1½ cups tomatoes. But of course this included the juice, so really I had less than 1½ cups tomatoes and just barely ¾ cup juice. In the future I think I’d err on the safe side and get a 28-ounce can of tomatoes. My sauce turned out a bit dry, and the eggplant really dominated the tomatoes. So I think, all in all, I’ve learned an important lesson about concentration.
I enjoyed the pasta well enough while I was eating it, but it’s not going to become something I crave. In a lot of ways, it’s too similar to a ratatouille recipe I have. I think I like the ratatouille better, but A prefers the pasta. Anyway, this is worth trying if you’re an eggplant fan. I would make it again. (Postscript, December 2009: I've never made it again.)
The recipe, by the way, is from my favorite cookbook and one of the few I actually own, Pasta e Verdura: 140 Vegetable Sauces for Spaghetti, Fusilli, Rigatoni, and All Other Noodles, by Jack Bishop. I’d say at least 15 of the pasta recipes I make frequently come from this book, and there are still many I haven’t tried. Highly recommended.
1 large eggplant (about 1¼ pounds)
1 teaspoon + 3 tablespoons olive oil
1 small onion, minced
3 medium cloves garlic, minced
1½ cups drained canned whole tomatoes, juice reserved
1 tablespoon fresh oregano leaves
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons minced fresh basil leaves
1 pound rigatoni
freshly grated Parmesan cheese to taste
1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
2. Place the whole eggplant on a baking sheet, brush it very lightly with the 1 teaspoon of oil, and bake it until the flesh is soft and the skin is wrinkled, about 30 minutes (turn it over once, after 15 minutes). As Jack points out, baking eggplant sidesteps its tendency to soak up oil like a sponge and become soggy and greasy, which is one of the reasons this is a good eggplant recipe.
3. Take the eggplant out of the oven and let it cool enough to touch. Trim off the stem and peel away the skin with your fingers. Cut the eggplant into ½-inch cubes and set them aside.
4. While the eggplant is cooling, put 4 quarts of salted water in a large pot on the stove and brought it to a boil. Then heat the remaining 3 tablespoons of olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the onion to the skillet and saute until translucent, about 5 minutes. Then add the garlic and cook for another minute.
5. Coarsely chop the tomatoes and add them to the skillet along with ¾ cup of their packing juice. Cook ith the onion and garlic in the skillet for several minutes, occasionally using a spoon to break the tomatoes apart.
6. Stir in the eggplant, oregano, salt, and pepper. Simmer everything over medium heat 20 to 25 minutes, until the sauce thickens.
7. Meanwhile, cook the pasta until al dente and drain it. Stir the basil into the tomato-eggplant sauce, toss the hot pasta in the skillet with the sauce, serve out portions, and sprinkle them with the grated cheese.
Serves: 4-6
Time: About an hour
I enjoyed the pasta well enough while I was eating it, but it’s not going to become something I crave. In a lot of ways, it’s too similar to a ratatouille recipe I have. I think I like the ratatouille better, but A prefers the pasta. Anyway, this is worth trying if you’re an eggplant fan. I would make it again. (Postscript, December 2009: I've never made it again.)
The recipe, by the way, is from my favorite cookbook and one of the few I actually own, Pasta e Verdura: 140 Vegetable Sauces for Spaghetti, Fusilli, Rigatoni, and All Other Noodles, by Jack Bishop. I’d say at least 15 of the pasta recipes I make frequently come from this book, and there are still many I haven’t tried. Highly recommended.
1 large eggplant (about 1¼ pounds)
1 teaspoon + 3 tablespoons olive oil
1 small onion, minced
3 medium cloves garlic, minced
1½ cups drained canned whole tomatoes, juice reserved
1 tablespoon fresh oregano leaves
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons minced fresh basil leaves
1 pound rigatoni
freshly grated Parmesan cheese to taste
1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
2. Place the whole eggplant on a baking sheet, brush it very lightly with the 1 teaspoon of oil, and bake it until the flesh is soft and the skin is wrinkled, about 30 minutes (turn it over once, after 15 minutes). As Jack points out, baking eggplant sidesteps its tendency to soak up oil like a sponge and become soggy and greasy, which is one of the reasons this is a good eggplant recipe.
3. Take the eggplant out of the oven and let it cool enough to touch. Trim off the stem and peel away the skin with your fingers. Cut the eggplant into ½-inch cubes and set them aside.
4. While the eggplant is cooling, put 4 quarts of salted water in a large pot on the stove and brought it to a boil. Then heat the remaining 3 tablespoons of olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the onion to the skillet and saute until translucent, about 5 minutes. Then add the garlic and cook for another minute.
5. Coarsely chop the tomatoes and add them to the skillet along with ¾ cup of their packing juice. Cook ith the onion and garlic in the skillet for several minutes, occasionally using a spoon to break the tomatoes apart.
6. Stir in the eggplant, oregano, salt, and pepper. Simmer everything over medium heat 20 to 25 minutes, until the sauce thickens.
7. Meanwhile, cook the pasta until al dente and drain it. Stir the basil into the tomato-eggplant sauce, toss the hot pasta in the skillet with the sauce, serve out portions, and sprinkle them with the grated cheese.
Serves: 4-6
Time: About an hour
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