Comfort foods: eggplant parmagiana

As we head into Thanksgiving, it seemed appropriate to reflect on comfort foods, because ultimately, what we consider comfort foods become part of our tradition, and Thanksgiving is, in so many ways, both good and bad, a holiday of tradition.

You all know what I mean about that. 'Nuff said, huh?

Eggplant parmagiana is not a dish I associate with Thanksgiving, but it IS probably my most treasured comfort food. I love making it. I love eating it, and I love sharing it with people. But of the three, I think I love eating it the best. I'm serious about that. If I made a pan of eggplant parmagiana, and "forgot" to invite anyone over, I could eat my way through it, without a problem in the world. During the winter, when local eggplant is not available, I will violate my own rules vigorously in order to make it. And it's one of those dishes where I must say, up front, NEVER MAKE IT FOR ME, because on this one, mine is best. At least to me. I have never had an eggplant parmagiana anywhere that hasn't made me want to go home and do it myself because I like mine better. I do have an award for it, but awards are in the eye of the beholder. I want to share my recipes (because I have two of them) with you, and let you go to it. The first time through, this is a time consuming recipe. But after that, you'll find it is really a very fast dish to do.

The first recipe is the traditional way I do it. This is heavy, stick to your ribs food. It's close to the classic one you see everywhere. One commentator, who left off the breadcrumbs in his said "folks who bread their eggplant don't like the taste of eggplant. "

Those of us who like our eggplant breaded and who DO like the taste of eggplant wish that people like this would please go and cook something else.

What you will need is two, really nice sized eggplants, about two quarts of tomato sauce, some good quality mozzarella (but not necessarily the best), and some parmagiana cheese. Also, flour, breadcrumbs, salt, and a whole LOT of vegetable oil. That oil may be the key to making this dish well.

Peel your eggplants, and then cut horizontal slices about 1/4-1/3 inch thick. Contrary to what you may read, you do NOT have to salt eggplant and let them sit to get out the bitter juices. Like the strings in string beans, that has been bred out of modern eggplants. (Incidentally ,if you can find heirloom eggplants, like the wonderful Sicilian striped ones, or white ones, by all means, use them. These are smaller than the purple globes, though, so you should get more of them ). Leaving peel on the eggplants "for fiber," is not an option. Frying eggplant peel makes it very bitter. Sort of like me after a dish of bad eggplant parmagiana.

After you have the eggplants peeled and sliced, you need to get a "fry station" ready. What that means is seasoned flour , in one container (or, a big plastic bag), three or four eggs, beaten, and cut with about half a cup of water, or milk, in a second container, and a third one filled with seasoned breadcrumbs. (This is one where I use the storebought. Just seems to work better for me). What you do is coat the slices in the seasoned flour. You can do the "shake and bake" technique for this, which is really easy and recommended, or you can dip them in bowl or pan of flour and shake off the excess. Try to do them all at once, because otherwise, you're going to wind up with very messy, sticky fingers.

When they're done, start dipping the slices first in the eggwash, letting excess drip off, and then into the crumbs. When the slices are coated with crumbs, put them on a tray until you're done. You will get all kinds of "hints" as to how to do this, like using one hand for the egg, and the other for breadcrumbs, so as to keep the crumbs from building up on your fingers. That never works for me, and I wind up cleaning my fingers several times, but try it if you like.

When you're done, fill a big pan or pot with about two, even three, inches of vegetable oil. Don't use olive oil here, it burns too easily. You need all this oil because eggplant is very spongy. Interestingly enough, if you use too little oil, the eggplant will suck it all up and you'll get a heavy, greasy dish. If you use lots of oil, so it can "swim," you'll be much better off. Bring the oil to 350 (if you don't have a thermometer, make a little "hush puppy" of egg and breadcrumb, and see if it fries quick and bubbly. If it does, you're there). Fry the slices, without crowding them, until they are nice and brown, and let them drain on paper towel. Eat a few of them when they're cool enough to touch. You're the cook, it's your right. When they're all done and you've finished your snack, get a 9x13 pan, and put a nice pool of sauce in it. Layer some eggplant over this and then slice mozzarella, at liberty (I HATE the recipes that call for shredding). Repeat this, until you're out of everything, and save some sauce to coat everything at the end.

You'll need a pair of good strong arms to lift this onto a baking sheet. NOTICE that I have not put parmagiana on yet. It's coming. Bake the casserole for 45 minutes or so, until everything is bubbling, the cheese is a little brown (you'll see it through the sauce), and it smells like heaven, or Nana's kitchen. Turn off the oven and then, AND ONLY THEN, shave a snowstorm of parmagiana over it. The heat of the baked dish will melt the parmagiana beautifully.

You need to let this sit for a few hours before you eat it. I know, it's hard, but it will be better, and you've made enough for two normal meals or one big gorge.

The second way I make this is lighter. I leave out the breadcrumbs, and I cut the eggplant into long slices instead of round ones (Lidia taught me this). There is an advantage here, in that the resulting eggplant is lighter, so you can eat more of it. The disadvantage, is that if you use breadcrumbs, you CAN put the slices in the fridge and come back to them later. In the second variation, you MUST fry the slices as soon as they come out of the egg. You'll get almost a "tempura" effect on the eggplant slices, and your resulting casserole will be wetter, because there isn't any crumb to absorb excess sauce. It's still good though.

I tend to make the first one when it's "dinner," i.e., the main course. I make the second one if I'm serving it with something, even if it's just pasta. This is not a dish for vegans, but it's a wonderful way of making a vegetarian meal, that's nice and hearty, filling, and ultimately, I think, the kind of dish that gives you a hug.

This post would be incomplete if I didn't comment on the "controversy" about the name of this dish. As you'll see the parmagiana takes a very minor place here, and you may wonder why it's called "eggplant parmagiana" instead of, for example "eggplant mozzarella" (you'll use about a pound and a half of that cheese, by the way).

If you were to leave out the parmagiana, it would taste incomplete. It tastes "wrong" with pecorino romano. But on the other hand, if you left out the mozzarella, it would be incomplete as well. So, where's the name from? Some linguist, without enough to do, has theorized that "palma" is an old word for the round shingles on roofs in southern Italy, and the dish was originally "eggplant palma," because it looked like the shingles.

Know what? WHO CARES???? Dig in. I think this is one of the most wonderful dishes in the world to eat. Like I say, I love cooking it, I love eating it, and I really, really want everyone to make it. Maybe we can even have a contest: six or seven or ten eggplant parmagianas lined up for me to taste test? Oh, yes. Heaven on a plate.

Buon appetito