Winter Skies, Kitchen Aglow

I became a convert to aubergine (eggplant) many moons ago after I ate a deconstructed vegetarian lasagne at the now-defunct Skoozi on Victoria Road in Devonport. I have no idea what has happened to the head chef or the proprietor of this great establishment, but my love for aubergine has only grown.

Some people I know cannot stand it, finding the skin rubbery and the flesh strangely spongy. But perhaps they just haven't chosen the right ones at the market or grocery store. There are many varieties: some white, others deep, dark purple; some long and slender, and others with the curves of an hour-glass. Despite the variety, selecting aubergine isn't brain science, so there is no reason to not enjoy this delectable member of the solanaceae family (along with tomatillo, tomato, and gooseberry, to name a few). Look for aubergines with firm, unyielding skin that is shiny. In terms of colouring, ensure that there is no green (unless, of course, they are a variety in which the colour green is part of its make-up, such as ball-shaped Thai eggplant); they should be uniform in colour or pattern (the zébrine variety is zebra-striped white and violet) from the stem to the blossom end. If you pick aubergines that are 6-8oz in weight, you will not have to slice and salt them to extract the bitterness, for they contain fewer seeds.

Aubergine is incredibly flexible. It is just at home as part of a mezze as it is in a main dish, and it is also a highlight of both hot and cold dishes. Native to India, aubergine is a key ingredient of dishes all over the subcontinent as well as Asia and along the coasts of the Mediterranean. One of my favourite preparations of Japanese aubergine is what my angelheart Eric's mother calls Eggplant with Basil, in which half-moon shapped slices of eggplant are first lightly sautéed and then cooked off with garlic in a bath of soy sauce. I am also partial to Mediterranean preparations: the Sicilian Caponata, a sweet and sour relish; Baba Ghanouj, a Lebanese dip of aubergine and tahini; and Patlicanli Pilav, a sweet, sexy Turkish pilaf in which aubergine is baked before being combined with sauteed onions, pine nuts, and rice into which is tossed currants, cinnamon and allspice.

Not quite an aubergine caviar, for this recipe does not require one make a purée, but it is a soft spread that one can smear over toasted bread. If you choose an aubergine that is larger than 8oz, peel and slice the aubergine according to the following recipe, and then salt it generously and allow to sit in a colander for an hour. After said time has elapsed, rinse the slices of aubergine and dry thorougly. This will ensure extraction of bitterness. The dish can be served warm or at room temperature.

Savoury Aubergine "Jam"
(Adapted from Deborah Madison's Local Flavors: Cooking and Eating from America's Farmers' Markets)

1 pound aubergine
sea salt
pepper, freshly ground
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 clove garlic, minced
1 chile de arból, dried, seeds removed, and thinly sliced
1/2-1 cup water
1/2 teaspoon star anise powder
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander/cilantro
2 tablespoons coriander/cilantro, finely chopped
juice of 1/2 small lemon

1) Peel wide ribbons of the aubergine skin, then slice into 1cm/1/2" rounds.
2) Heat olive oil in a large sautée pan.
3) Over medium-high heat, add aubergine slices and brown on both sides - approximately 15 minutes.
4) Add garlic and chile de arból and let it meld with the aubergine for one minute.
5) Turn heat down to medium and add 1/2 cup water, star anise powder and ground coriander. Mash the aubergine with the tines of a fork until broken into a jam-like consistency. Add more water to help break it down. If there is too much water left once consistency is reached, turn up the heat to evaporate it quickly.
6) Stir in the chopped cilantro and lemon juice before serving.




This is a smoky spread, augmented by the toasted bread of one's choice. I love the crunchy texture of the bread juxtaposed by the soft aubergine jam. The spices and fresh coriander and lemon provide overall balance and interest. For me, this makes a great addition to mezze, but, on its own, this is light and healthy late-Summer lunch.

Labels: Aubergine, Deborah Madison, Eggplant, Mezze

Some time last weekend, in between long stints in front of the computer formulating sentences as I was making sense of my readings for the theory chapter of my Master's thesis, I tried to make flatbread. My longtime friend, uproarious glamour queen Julie, invited me over for a night of relaxation: raspberry daiquiris, "nibbles", and good, old-fashioned bantering and chattering. I didn't want to turn up empty-handed and decided that finger food was going to come in the form of mezze. Well, the flatbread didn't work out then (I had an amount of flour by weight when I didn't have a scale, and more yeast was needed), so I tossed the idea of making all the mezze dishes on my own out the window. I didn't have time to look at what I did wrong and just decided to cut my losses.

But I have one of those inquiring minds, even when it is overloaded. I cannot say that I did exhaustive research, but what I can say is that with more information about flatbreads, I felt comfortable enough to embark on my own path. Of course, this is quite a basic bread to make. I know that baking bread is a combination of chemistry, weather, and feel, to name a few contributing factors to a successful product. In addition to the niggling query I had, I was fuelled by the Daring Bakers' bagel exercise (feel free to read my friends' posts: Jasmine at Confessions of a Cardamom Addict, Freya at Writing At the Kitchen Table, Ivonne at Cream Puffs in Venice, Kelly-Jane at Cooking the Books, Pille at Nami-Nami, and Sara at i like to cook) and Bruno's baguettes at brunosdream.

I knew that I was successful as soon as the bread wasn't becoming stickier but smoother (the opposite of what happened last weekend). Reconfirmation came when I punched the dough down after it had proved for an hour. It gave way like a marshmellow. The indentations of my knuckles left the appearance of slept-on memory foam. I knew from here on out that the bread would turn out well.

I am not going to offer any substitutes because my recipe is based on seven different recipes, which allow for too many variants should you want to diverge from my path. I understand that choice is a good thing, but I fear sending you down a misguided path on account of my inexperience. Keep extra warm water and flour at the ready in case you need them to: 1) create a firm and soft dough; 2) to stop the dough from being too sticky. This recipe makes 6 flatbreads.

Cumin Flatbread

For the bread:
3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour (you may end up needing more)
2 tablespoons active dry yeast
2 teaspoons salt
1 tablespoon ground cumin
2 tablespoons heavy/double cream
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 1/3 cups warm water (you may end up needing more)

For the glaze:
1 egg
1 teaspoon warm water
1 teaspoon heavy/double cream
1 tablespoon cumin seeds

1) Combine the flour, yeast, salt and ground cumin in a large bowl, then make a well.
2) Combine the cream, olive oil and water in a measuring cup.
3) Stir the dry ingredients into the centre with a wooden spoon as you slowly pour in the liquid. If, for some reason, a firm but soft dough is not being produced, add more warm water - only 1/8 cup at a time.
4) When you have a firm and soft dough, turn it out onto a foured surface.
5) Flour your hands.
6) Knead the dough, lightly adding more flour until you have a smooth and elastic dough. It took me about 7 minutes to get to this stage, but I understand it can take as long as 10 minutes.
7) Lightly oil a bowl.
8) Put the ball of dough into the oiled bowl, and roll it around so it, too, is oiled.
9) Cover the bowl with a tea towel and leave in a warm, though not draughty, place to rise to the desired lightness ("to prove") for one hour.
10) Punch the dough down then leave for 10 minutes.
11) Preheat the oven to 210 C/425 F.
12) To make six flatbreads, tear the dough into thirds, then each third in half.
13) To get the appearance of Jasmine's slipper, form each piece into an oval then roll flat with a lightly floured rolling pin on a lightly floured surface.
14) Place on baking sheets approximately 3cm/1.1" apart. Leave covered to proof again for 20 minutes. You may need more than one baking sheet, in which case you will have to bake in batches.
15) Using the back of a knife, cut a decorative design into the bread. I did a wave-like pattern so that I could break the bread more easily (by following the lines, I mean).
16) In a small bowl, beat together the ingredients for the glaze, except for the cumin seeds.
17) Brush the glaze onto the flatbreads just before baking and sprinkle with cumin seeds.
18) Bake for 8-10 minutes until the loaves are golden and slightly puffy, though cooked through.
19) Cover for a few minutes when they first come out so they don't get too crusty. (Thank you for tip Ms. Lawson, per How To Be A Domestic Goddess.)

The flatbread is chewy and easy to tear apart. The cumin is a comfort when the warmth of the bread is lukewarm, and it can support any mezze or zakusi plate with which you may want to pair this bread, for example: argan oil and dukkah, hummus bi tahini, muhammara, or charkhlis pkhali (a Georgian beetroot, coriander and walnut puree).

Labels: Bread, Cumin, Mezze