Chicken and eggplant—but not together

 

Eggplant parmagiana
The stack fell over, but that didn't affect the taste. Scrumptious but rich!

For some time now, I’ve been exploring alternatives to rotisserie chicken for use in casseroles and salads. Rotisseries chickens are expensive, but more than that, they are usually loaded with sodium and other flavorings. Plus I find boning them a pain, though Jordan has taught me that they are much easier to bone when they are warm from the store rather than cold from the refrigerator.

Years ago I used to put a piece of frozen chicken—I bought bags of it at Sam’s—in the microwave with salt, pepper, and a slice of onion. Add a dash of bouillon, cover, and microwave. That was when I had teenagers to feed, not much time, and a microwave. Now I realize that was compressed chicken, not real breast pieces, the teenagers are grown, and I have no microwave. When I first gave up rotisserie products, I poached but the chicken was tough. Then I learned there were better ways to poach—barely simmering for ten or fifteen minutes. Better. Then I saw yet another method, which I tried recently for a Cobb salad. Bring a pot of water, covered, to a boil. Immediately turn off the heat, slide the chicken breast into the water and cover. Leave for at least 25 minutes. The chicken was tender, but so pale it had little eye appeal and the flavor was sort of bland.  

So yesterday I was following an old recipe (you can tell by the look of the paper) for a chicken and blue cheese composed salad. It called for coating the chicken breast pieces with cooking spray, salt, and pepper. No kidding? Spray it? My first idea was to put olive oil in the skillet as usual, but then I thought if I was following a recipe, I should do it all the way. I sprayed and used a heavy hand with salt and pepper. I did not pound or flatten the breasts. Once they were suitably browned, I put them on a sheet pan, covered it with foil, and baked (I don’t have an appropriate covered dish in my small kitchen or I wouldn’t have resorted to foil). Although the recipe didn’t call for drippings, I added a bit to the pan. Baked it 15 minutes at 350 and as soon as it cooled, whisked it into the fridge. At dinnertime, I sliced it on a slant, and came up with lovely pieces for a salad. At least for the time being, that’s my preferred method.

The salad I made last night? Tear up some lettuce, dice a green onion, slice a bit of cucumber. Put that in a bowl and dress with vinaigrette. I didn’t like the recipe dressing—olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and mustard was too sweet. Next time I’ll make an oil and lemon dressing. Divide the salad evenly among plates, top with sliced chicken and sliced tomatoes. Sprinkle with crumbled blue cheese.

Wow! I had no idea I had so much to say about chicken. The recipe I meant to share this week is for a quick Eggplant parmigiana, and I stole it from Martha Stewart. Eggplant parmigiana is a chore to make and no one else here will touch eggplant, so I was delighted to find this quick method. You have to start this the night before. Here’s what you need (serves two):

1 medium eggplant

Salt and pepper

Thick tomato sauce (I used crushed tomatoes, Pomi label)

Sliced mozzarella

Parmesan

Italian herb seasoning

Bread crumbs

The night before serving, slice the eggplant into six slices, lay slices out on paper towels on a sheet pan, and salt lightly. Cover and refrigerate. Next day, rinse slices and pat dry.

Heat oven to 400. Replace paper towel with parchment paper. Brush each slice with olive oil and bake 20 minutes.

Make two stacks: eggplant slice, mozzarella slice, tomato sauce, sprinkling of Italian herbs, salt and pepper, and Parmesan; repeat layer, ending with third piee of eggplant. Cover that top slice with fresh bread crumbs. You may want to use toothpicks to hold stacks upright.

Bake at 350 for 20 minutes. Martha says you can serve hot or warm.

Eggplant stacks ready to go in the oven.

Kitchen fail--and eggplant reconsidered

 

I have some good friends who like eggplant, though my family has threatened death and destruction if I ever serve it again. I told Colin I’d never served it to him when he was a child, and he retorted, “Oh yes you did, and it was slimy.” So maybe I didn’t know to bake it instead of fry it. My friend Teddy loves it, and I have made two different eggplant dinners for Sue and him, and they’ve both been enthusiastic. Kathie also likes it, and I keep meaning to make her a dish. Meantime, one night recently, I made a recipe for Jean that sounded so good to me. Layered tomato and eggplant. What could go wrong?

When I read the recipe carefully that morning, I found it a bit more complicated than I thought. First off, you had to peel the eggplant, which is more difficult and perilous than I expected. I accomplished it without cutting myself, which made me proud. Then you cubed it and boiled it until soft. Drain and mash. Add onions, garlic, beaten egg, breadcrumbs, and pesto. So far so good. I put that mixture in the fridge, so that I could assemble the dish at the last minute. As I worked, I thought with great satisfaction about how good it sounded.

Jordan was here for happy hour when Jean arrived, so we sat, caught up on each other’s news, etc. But I finally decided it was time to cook. Easy-peasy: layer tomato, then eggplant mixture, then more tomato and top with grated cheddar. Bake at 350 for thirty minutes. When it came out of the oven, we both raved about how good it looked.

Jean liked it, ate two helpings; I did not. I could think of several things that would have been better: the onions should have been sauteed and softened first, the eggplant should have been sliced—as it was it got lost, the pesto was unnecessary, the cheddar too bold.

What I would do another time—if there is another time—is layer tomatoes (salt and pepper them), then slices of unpeeled eggplant, sauteed onion rings, a milder cheese like Monterrey Jack, and then more tomatoes. Cover liberally with grated Monterry Jack or slices of provolone. Mind you, this is not a recipe: it’s just a thought.

Since my kitchen fail, I’ve realized eggplant is ubiquitous, probably because it’s in season right now. But if you look online, you’ll see it stuffed, grilled, fried, baked, rolled, used in salads and spreads, served caprese style. I’ve seen recipes for curried eggplant (Indian), hot and sour (Vietnamese), Greek-style. I might even try the pasta caponata (caponata is a Middle Eastern spread of eggplant, fried and chopped, seasoned with olive oil, onion, garlic, tomatoes, lemon, capers and probably whatever else strikes your fancy). And there’s always babaganoush which is good if it’s not too strong with garlic. But I’ll pass on eggplant churros. Honest, I saw a recipe!

Here’s my favorite eggplant recipe:

Eggplant parmesan

2 eggplants

2 lbs. ground beef

2 cloves garlic, crushed

2 14-oz. cans diced tomatoes

2 6-oz. cans tomato paste

1 tsp. salt

Pepper to taste

Pinch of sugar

3 c. breadcrumbs (about 6 slices)

⅔ c. grated Parmesan

Provolone cheese slices

Vegetable oil, as needed; start with 3 Tbsp. but eggplant really soaks up oil and you may need to add more as you go along

Halve two eggplants lengthwise and hollow out, leaving shells about ¼ inch thick. Cube eggplant that you’ve cut out and sauté in vegetable oil until soft. Drain well on paper towels. Brown beef; add garlic, tomatoes, tomato paste, salt, pepper, and sugar and simmer 15 minutes.  Stir in breadcrumbs, sautéed eggplant, and Parmesan.

Spoon into eggplant shells. It won’t all fit, so use an extra side dish. Top with sliced provolone and bake. Will probably feed five, but only four get the eggplant halves. The fifth person has to eat out of a small oven dish.

Eggplant Parmesan

Years ago I used to fix Eggplant Parmesan (or Parmigiana if you prefer)—it was one of my favorite “company” dinners. Instead of layers of sliced eggplant and meat sauce, I used halved eggplant shells as dishes and piled the filling in. But then along came four children who must have consulted about the matter, because they uniformly rejected eggplant. I admit that it’s one of those touchy things—you either like it or you hate it, and I have known people who were allergic to it. So I took it off my list, lost the recipe in my great downsizing, and occasionally thought about it wistfully.

When I joined Imperfect Produce, I impulsively ordered an eggplant, mostly because they looked so sleek and pretty. Then serendipity hit—I found a recipe online by Michael Chiarello (a chef whose work I admire). He called it “Mom’s stuffed eggplant,” but it was the same principle as what I’d done years ago. A friend was coming for dinner who I was pretty sure would eat eggplant, so I fixed it. But of course I had to fiddle with the recipe a little. Here’s what I did:

Ingredients:

1 eggplant

Olive oil

½ lb. ground beef

Salt and pepper

1small onion, diced

2 cloves garlic

1 Tbsp. dried basil

1 cup grated Pecorino (I like it better than Parmesan)

¼ c. seasoned bread crumbs

1 egg

Note: Chiarello’s recipe called for a red pepper but bell peppers are among the few things I never eat, never cook with. Feel free to add it in with the garlic and onion

Directions:

            Remember slicing eggplant and frying it, then draining it—the whole things was a mess, and eggplant soaks up oil more than anything. This is easier—slice the eggplant in half and hollow out the shells, leaving enough meat inside so that each half will hold its shape. Dice the meat you’ve removed and fry in olive oil—don’t use any more oil than you have to. Set aside to cool.

Brown onion and garlic in a bit of olive. When the onion is limp and slightly browned, add the hamburger and brown, breaking it up into small chunks. Stir frequently so the onion doesn’t burn.

In a separate bowl, combine 2/3 cup cheese, bread crumbs, basil, and egg. Mix thoroughly and then stir in the eggplant and the meat-and-onion mixture.  Pile this mixture into the carved-out eggplant shells (you will have leftover meat mixture, so just put it in a small oven-proof dish to bake along with the eggplant halves).

Top generously with more pecorino. Bake at 350^o for 30 minutes. Watch carefully that the top of the eggplant halves aren’t too close to the heating element in your toaster oven—the cheese topping will burn. In fact, that cheese is sort of your guide as to when the dish is read—watch for the cheese to not only melt but darken a bit.

Enjoy with crusty baguette slices and a green salad. My guest loved it, and said, “You notice I never say, ‘Let’s go out to eat.’ Your dinners are too good.” The kind of praise I love to hear.