I'll Stuff Your Eggplant

Yesterday I was angry. After a great week of feeling all peaceful and lovey, driving home from work I wanted to throw something breakable--at no one in particular but yet at everybody. Stupid boys, stupid rapists, stupid garage doors that come off their tracks, stupid gnats thatt fly in my mouth and eyes, stupid stupid stupid. But instead of breaking glass I smashed an eggplant to smitherines while listening to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. And then I ate that stuffed eggplant. But that didn't make me feel better. So I went on a run. That made me feel a little better. But I'll tell you what fixed it all: bowling. Bowling with these people. I've been going to small group with some of these folks for a year and a half now--they're hilarious, fun and just awesome all-around. I'm very thankful for them. Life is good even when you're mad and especially when you're with friends.

Jamie from Jamie's Recipes suggested I give this stuffed eggplant recipe a go(go).

Stuffed Eggplant: 1 eggplant olive oil 1/2 teaspoon cumin 1/2 teaspoon coriander 1 clove garlic, finely chopped 2 tomatoes, diced bay leaf 1 cup ricotta cheese 1/3 cup grated parmesan cheese 1/2 cup ham or bacon or sausage, chopped (optional) salt and pepper 1 egg, beaten Preheat oven to 400. Cut eggplant in half from the stem down (hotdog way not hamburger way). Place skin-down on a baking sheet and roast for 20 minutes. Remove and let cool slightly, but keep the oven on. Scoop out the fleshy part of the eggplant with a spoon, preserving the eggplant skins.

On medium heat, saute the cumin, coriander and garlic in olive oil in a large skillet for several minutes. Add the diced tomatoes and a bay leaf and saute for another 5 minutes, until juice from tomatoes has reduced slightly. Throw in the eggplant and mash with a spoon until the mixture is of an even consistency throughout, saute for another 5-8 minutes. Turn the stovetop heat off, stir in the salt and pepper and ricotta and parmesan cheeses. Remove the bay leaf. Once mixture has cooled slightly, stir in the beaten egg.

Turn the oven down to 375. On a baking sheet, scoop the stuffing into the skins of the eggplant. Bake for 30 minutes. Top with parmesan cheese. Serve.

Eggplant, Pretty on the Inside

Can you see why kids may not like eggplant? It sorta looks like vomit:

And it's purple on the outside. And it's a vegetable. That's weird. But like Mom always said, it's what's on the inside that counts.

But this eggplant marked the return of something beautiful: Monday nights. I like to think of myself as crazy and adventurous. But I love my routine. I must have it. Let me explain an insight to Lainey. About a year ago, Megan gave me this Meyers Briggs book about personality types. I'm an ENFJ--extrovert, intuitive, feeler, judger--yes that's right, judger--I'm probably judging you right now. The J part of me has lists and schedules. The J part of me gets annoyed when Travis comes into my cubicle with an invite to sushi that day--"But I already brought a turkey sandwich." My J squirms when my boss cancels Wednesday meetings half an hour before they start. But my N gets excited about sushi and exploring new things and is laid back about last minute changes. If you're me, you're constantly wanting to do crazy things but have a serious conversation with yourself about the pros and cons--the con being: It's not on the schedule! Just this morning I battled out whether or not to go to Gerda's for coffee and a doughnut. I went. They were closed. Should have listened to the J, but the N shrugs its shoulders and eats a scone. You do not want to be in my head. So Monday nights are for the J. I come home from work, go for a run, make dinner and watch Gossip Girl. Every. Monday. Night. Except last night I did something crazy and rode my bike to the Dundee Theater to watch Adam. I didn't plan on it. I didn't even know which showing I would go to until I left. The N part of me loved it. See how well I compromise! And it all worked out so perfectly. Even the ratatouille, which looks sort of like a chunky, orange bowl of mush. And we're getting it. It's coming together. I know where things are in the apartment--except for the bike helmets, mystery. I live close enough to ride my bike to a movie theater. And everything was so peaceful last night that I had to make tea just to contribute my bit to the universe.

Ratatouille: from A Homemade Life (obviously, you should all buy this book)
olive oil
1 large eggplant
1 zucchini
3 green onions
3 garlic cloves
1 red pepper (or green or yellow)
1 15-ounce can diced tomatoes (only because I ran out of fresh tomatoes because I made caprese salad three times last weekend)

bunch of thyme
bay leaf
salt and pepper
basil

Preheat oven to 400. Cut eggplant in half, long ways, then slice into half moons about 1-inch thick. Arrange on a baking sheet. Pour some olive oil into a bowl, using a brush paint the eggplant rounds with oil, turn them over and coat the other side with a thin layer as well. Bake for 15 minutes, remove from oven and turn over. Bake for another 15 minutes. Remove and allow eggplant to cool. Chop into 1-inch cubes.

Slice zucchini into coins (see photo above). In a large skillet on medium heat, saute zucchini in olive oil until softened and cooked through, about 10 minutes. Remove from heat and put in a bowl. Chop the onions, garlic and pepper. Saute the onions for several minutes then add the garlic and pepper and saute for 2 minutes, being careful that the garlic doesn't burn. Add the can of diced tomatoes and toss in the eggplant, zucchini, salt, pepper, thyme, bay leaf and basil. Turn heat to low and let simmer for 5 to 10 minutes, until the juice from the tomatoes has reduced. Season to taste. Remove bay leaf and serve. Best if eaten with your lovely, smiling roommate.

Thai Food Is Spicy.

I used to live in Thailand. I loved the food--aside from shockingly horrendous school lunches and a few too-spicy meals. There was a "restaurant" (using the term loosely) on the compound where I lived. The cook's name was Lek, which means small, which she was. Though tiny, she was spunky and spicy. I learned my lesson (ZIP code 46032 on the link) quickly with her food. She and her daughter taught me how to order food that wasn't hot. (It's pet nit-noi, and never forget it). I ate Lek's food just about every night of the week. I had a few staples; green curry was one of them. It's got a bit of a kick to it, but without the chilis, the cocoanut milk adds a savory and creamy element. It's all my favorite spices and herbs mixed together: cumin, coriander, garlic, cilantro, etc. Lek and her daughter Phet also taught me how to order food with proper pronunciation--probably just about the only thing I can pronounce correctly in Thai--ask me, I am an ace at pronouncing green curry with chicken (you'll be more impressed than you should be). Everyone makes green curry a bit differently. It's really hopeless for me to try to immitate Lek's most delicious version. But I had to attempt because Lek would add (when available) butternut squash to the usual mix of vegetables. I have never ever seen green curry with squash. I'm pretty sure I never will. But it is fantastic. Prior to living in Thailand, I had been completely unaware of the versatility of certain vegetables, namely eggplant, mushrooms and squash. I knew if I wanted squash and eggplant in my green curry, I had to make it myself. I followed fairly closely to a recipe by Tyler Florence. However, I could not find any kaffir lime leaves in this fair city. I tried Whole Foods, Hy-Vee, along with Indian, Oriental and a Mediterranean independent grocers. It's likely that Thai Kitchen carries it. I'm not going to include my proportions of vegetables, but I sauteed onions, peppers, those baby corns and eggplant (not on Ty's recipe). I actually used acorn squash, as that seems to be more available at the grocery stores right now. The skin/shell/whatever-you-call-it is pretty thick, and I ended up cutting it in half and roasting it in the oven with some olive oil, salt and pepper beforehand. I only used half the squash (expect to see the rest of the squash in a different dish later this week). I sauteed it with the rest of the vegetables. I did not use Ty's curry paste recipe--I bought some at the store. If I was to do it again, I would definitely make it from scratch because the store-bought paste was spicy. Seriously. Megan and I started out drinking wine and added water and milk to sate the hot-factor. (Not a particularly good combination). My nose was running a little bit even. It really was good, but I hate how spiciness overpowers the rest of the flavors. So now we have some extra green curry that I don't think I can finish.