Burgare på nytt sätt

Lammfärsen är mycket fin här i Alanya. Jag köpte ett halv kilo hos HacIince, som räcker till två middagar för oss 2. Jag betalade 40 kronor, så ett portionspris på 10 kr är ju väldigt billigt, för så här bra mat.

Hemma finns lammfärs i nästan varenda butik numer, tack vare våra invandrare. Coop har en hel del bra utländska varor i sitt sortiment. Beyaz Peynir, den Turkiska ko-osten, finns t.o.m i min Konsumbutik därhemma.

Jag hittade på en ny variant av hamburgare med lammfärs istället för den vanliga nötfärsen. Med smörstekta aubergineskivor istället för bröd. Som hamburgerdressing blev det min Turkiska morotsröra.

Skivad färskost passade fint till de ört och vitlökskryddade lammbiffarna. Så var receptet på Lammburgare uppfunnet.

Lammburgare

250 gr Lammfärs

1 liten gul Lök

1 Vitlöksklyfta

1 msk hackad Bladpersilja

1 tsk hackad Timjan

1 msk Olivolja

Havssalt och Svartpeppar

4 skivor Aubergine

2 msk Smör

Salta auberginen på båda sidor, lägg på ett fat. Låt saltet dra ut vätskan ur auberginen i en halvtimme. Då försvinner den lite bittra smaken och så blir skivorna mörare efter stekning.

Hacka löken fint och rör ihop med färsen. Blanda ner örter och kryddor. Låt stå i kylen en stund så smakerna kommer fram. Forma till biffar.

Morotsröra

2 Morötter

3 msk Smör

Havssalt

1 dl Turkisk Yoghurt

Riv morötterna. Smält smöret i stekpanna, rör ner morötter och salt och stek under omrörning tills de är mjuka. Blanda ner yoghurten och mixa röran slät med stavmixer. Smaka av om det behövs mer salt. Röran är god både varm och kall.

Bryn smör och stek biffarna och de avsköljda och torkade  aubergineskivorna. Lägg en skiva Färskost på varje biff. Lägg ihop som en vanlig hamburgare, servera med morotsröran. Bladpersilja, Cornichons och en Tomatsallad med kallpressad Olivolja och Citron till.

This is one of my favourite aubergine recipes for it’s simplicity of taste and making.  We enjoy it as a light lunch with salad or a more hearty dinner with vegetables.  Cutting the aubergine strips thinly will ensure you get 8 slices out of one aubergine and makes it easier to fold the strips over.  There’s a fine line though – too thin a slice will break up when you fold it so have some cocktail sticks to hand to pin the parcel together.The original recipe is from ‘200 make ahead dishes‘  which recommends boiling the aubergine slices in salt water for 2 minutes and then grilling the finished parcels for 5 minutes on both sides.  If I didn’t skip the ‘chill for 30 minutes‘ step then I might well find that the parcels hold together better:  as it is I always need to cook them straight away and have never dared try flipping them over as the cocktail sticks are holding the top closed.  So instead I tend to lightly brown the slices before assembling the parcels as below (although the pictures show the boiled, then grilled version).  I didn’t have fresh basil leaves so used dried herbs and the pine nuts were shaken directly from the packet having forgotten to toast them.  Well when you’ve spent a morning digging and want lunch from fridge to table in 30 minutes you don’t worry about the small details do you!

making aubergine parcels  – serves 2 for lunch or 4 as a starter
1 long, large aubergine, cut into strips lengthways
125g (4oz) mozzarella cheese cut into 4 slices
1 large or 2 small tomatoes cut into slices
8 large basil leaves
1 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp pine nuts, dry-fried in a hot pan until golden
salt and pepper

• Remove the stalk from the aubergine and cut it lengthwise into 8 slices, disregarding the two outer edges.  Brush the aubergine slices with oil and lightly brown under the grill or in a frying pan.  Cut the mozzarella into 4 slices and the tomato into 8 slices, disregarding the outer edges.

• Place 2 of the aubergine slices in a flameproof dish, forming a cross.  Place a slice of tomato on top, season with salt and pepper, add a basil leaf, a slice of mozzarella, another basil leaf, then more salt and pepper, and finally another slice of tomato.  Fold the edges of the aubergine around the filling.  Repeat with the other ingredients to make 4 parcels in total.  Cover and chill for 20 minutes or until required.

• When ready to serve place the dish under a pre-heated grill and cook for about 5 minutes or until golden brown.  Serve hot drizzled with a tomato dressing and scattered with the pine nuts and extra basil leaves.

• To make the tomato dressing whisk together 2 tbps olive oil, 1 tsp balsamic vinegar, 1 tsp sun dried tomato paste and 1 tsp lemon juice.

Revbensspjäll på Turkiska

Lammrevben var en ny bekantskap för mig, men absolut något jag kommer att köpa igen. Riktigt saftiga med mycket kött och fett på, passade de perfekt att marinera. Eftersom jag inte har nån grill eller ugn, så fick det bli stekta spjäll.

De fick ligga i en citronmarinad i ett dygn i kylen, så de blev riktigt syrliga och fräscha. Du kan testa det här receptet till spjäll av Gris, kan tänka mig att det blir minst lika gott.

Citronmarinad till Revbensspjäll

Saft av en Citron

1 msk Pinjehonung

1 msk Worcestersauce

1 msk Olivolja

Svartpeppar och Havssalt

Krydda revbenen och blanda ihop ingredienserna till marinaden. Lägg köttet i en plastpåse, häll på marinaden. Knyt ihop och massera runt så vätskan kommer åt överallt. Lägg på ett fat i kylen till nästa dag, vänd några gånger under tiden.

Stek revbenen i 3 msk Smör, häll på marinaden när de fått färg. Salta och peppra lite till, det är gott med ordentligt med smak på lammrevbenen. Låt puttra i ca 30 min på svag värme, vänd då och då.

Jag mosade lite Färskost med Yoghurt, Olivolja, Vitlök, Havssalt och Svartpeppar till. Stekt Aubergine och Zucchini passar bra till lamm.

Solnedgång över borgen i Alanya

Aubergine

Although we usually associate them with Mediterranean cuisine, did you know we’ve been growing aubergines in Britain for 300 years?

Biologically speaking, it is actually a berry not a vegetable; its flesh is rich in fibre and folic acid and its skin is packed with antioxidants. To find the best quality aubergines, pick those that feel heavy and look for smooth skin without any marks and a bright green, fresh-looking stalk.

Traditionally, cookbooks tell you to salt aubergines and weigh them down in a colander before cooking to remove any bitterness and excess moisture. These days, most cooks agree this isn’t really necessary although if you’ll be frying them it will stop them absorbing so much oil.

Aubergine has a very subtle flavour and tastes almost smoky, particularly when roasted. It is a key ingredient in dishes from all over Europe – layered between lamb and béchamel sauce in a Greek Moussaka; grilled with tomatoes, mozzarella and basil in Italian parmagiana; or combined with cubes of courgette, peppers, tomato and onion in a southern French ratatouille.

It is also popular in Turkish, Middle Eastern and North African cuisine. Why not try this recipe for baba ganoush? It’s delicious as a dip, spread on flatbread and wrapped up with falafel or as part of a mezze platter with hummous, olives and toasted pitta bread.

Baba Ganoush
(Makes approximately 12 servings)

Ingredients

1 large aubergine
2 tbsp tahini (sesame seed paste)
2 tbsp lemon juice
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 pinch ground cumin
3 tbsp olive oil
Chopped flat leaf parsley and toasted sesame seeds, to serve

Method

Preheat the oven to 200˚C.

Prick the skin of the aubergine all over and roast for 30-40 minutes until soft, turning occasionally.

When cooked, plunge the aubergine into a bowl of cold water until cool enough to handle, then remove from the water and peel off the skin.

Roughly chop the flesh and add to a blender along with the tahini, lemon juice, garlic and cumin.

Mix these ingredients to a paste and then gradually blend in the olive oil.

Refrigerate for around 3 hours before serving, topped with the toasted sesame seeds and parsley.

Published in Bite Magazine July 2009

Oui ! mais … autrement !

Dans le bac à légumes , une aubergine se reposait …

Penne sur fondue d’aubergine

Pour 2 affamés

• Penne
• Oignon
• Aïl
• 1 bouillon cube
• 1 aubergine

Dans un wok , laisser l’oignon et l’aïl finement émincés prendre une jolie couleur .

Ajouter l’aubergine lavée et coupée en dés .

Ajouter le bouillon , un verre d’eau .

Laisser fondre tranquillement sur feu doux .

Surveiller réguliérement , ajouter un peu d’eau si nécessaire .

Quand les aubergines sont bien fondues , confites , les servir avec des pâtes ( Penne ce jour là … )

Et voila , comment donner du caractère à vos pâtes …

Pour la tribu Weight watchers , compter 4 points / part .

On the first Saturday in September, the village of Embsay-with-Eastby holds its annual horticultural show. It’s a really lovely day for all ages to participate in and enjoy. The children have made potato and carrot creatures for the last couple of years and this year submitted a stick of rhubarb each. We were able to choose from a lot more produce from the allotment this year too. For us, the growing is for dinner and not for the show, so we knew that we weren’t likely to be awarded many prizes. After all, we grow organic food and limit use of slug pellets, so we inevitably loose some crops to nature. But it’s lovely to be able to take part in a community event, and show our fellow allotmenteers that we appreciate all the advice and help we benefit from throughout the year.

We were quite surprised to have been awarded so many prizes on the day. I have no idea what metrics are used to judge the quality of a vegetable or flower, but here are some photos from after the judging.

Ours is bottom, left. This was our favourite entry, as we could see so many fabulous veggies we’d grown through the year. And to get a prize was really exciting! This is the first time we’ve tried cauliflower, and we got 3 from the 6 plugs that we planted. The vibrant colour is a hit with the kids too.

When I turned up to place our entry, I had a sinking feeling. All of the other entries were really massive. So my perfectly formed but petite aubergine and echinacea head (bottom, right) looked ridiculous. But the judges must have thought that the shining purple hue was worthy!

Damian won first prize for the redcurrant jelly that featured in an earlier blog post. He cut up two pieces of handmade paper from a fairtrade project in Nepal for the lid covering, much to my annoyance at first, but it did look really good.

There weren’t masses of flowers to pick from in the garden, as the border is still establishing. But I managed to select five blooms that were fairly equal. The plant looked a little bare afterwards, but thanks to the late warmth this year we had another flush of buds and they are only just dying off now (Nov) as we’ve had a couple of night frosts.

Same with the cosmos. I wasn’t sure what the etiquette was for stems, so I went for blooms only, and was the only one. But it seemed to work. Had I cut stems and left one bloom on the top, I would have wasted about 40% of the flowering capacity of the 2 plants in the garden, and didn’t want to do that.

The heleniums have been just fantastic this summer, especially given they were only planted in June. I think they might be my new favourite flower. And I love the scent from the achillea used in this display too.

Ingrediënten:

1 grote aubergine, zout, bloem, olijfolie, rietsuikerhoning

Bereiding:

Snijd de aubergine in schijfjes (max. 3mm) en bestrooi ze met een beetje zout. Laat het water uit de aubergine trekken en dep ze na een 15 tal minuten droog. Doe de bloem in een platic zakje en leg de schijfjes aubergine bij de bloem. Goed schudden zodat de aubergine de bloem kan absorberen. (mocht dit niet lukken kan je eerst de schijfjes door eiwit halen).

Frituur de schijfjes lichtbruin / krokant en laat ze uitlekken op keukenpapier. Schik ze op een bord en besprenkel ze met een beetje rietsuikerhoning.

Blev så sugen på baba ghanoush apropå mitt eget tidigare inlägg. Egentligen blir baban allra bäst om auberginerna grillas över öppen eld. De ska ha en riktigt tydlig  röksmak. Det är ju frågan om beduinmat. Men det går också att grilla direkt under grillelementet i ugnen. 

Det här behövs: 2-3 aunerginer (800-900 g), 2 vitlöksklyftor, 0,5 dl tahini, 1 citron, 0,5 tsk malen spiskummin, salt, paprikapulver, olivolja.

• Gör så här: Grilla auberginerna tills de får riktigt mörkt, nästan bränt skal. Vänd frukterna så att alla sidor får färg.
• Gör ett snitt i skalet och gröp ur innanmätet med sked.
• Mixa till ett mos med vitlök, tahini, pressad citron samt lite spiskummin. Smaka av med salt.
• Garnera med strängar av paprika och ”ett öga” av olivolja.
• Njut tillsammans med bröd, bönsallad och dippa grönsaksstavar i moset. 

Now, I know I’m touching a very sensitive issue here. What I mean is this: There are two types of food photographer. The first type is what I called the “purists”. They insist shooting the food “as is”, made without any modification to the recipe. This is sort of an equivalent of a “candid” shot in the world of portrait photography.

The other type is the what I called the “fashionist”. Their goal is to make the food look best in the final image, and are prepared to do whatever modification needed in the process of the food preparation – and more often than not will render to food inedible. They do things like spraying glycerin on top of pancakes so that the honey on the top doesn’t get absorbed into the pancake and therefore make it “saggy”. Yes, things like that.

Which one is better? None, really. Each has their own good and bad. But I find that I need to be able to switch back and forth between this type to really produce an acceptable food shot – like in this project, as we shall see. But here is the final shot.

Butterfly pasta (farfalle) with vegetables

Food creation/preparation

As mentioned before, initially I followed th recipe to make the verrine – ala the “purist”. I pan fried the eggplant with some olive oil that serves as the bottom layer. I also pan fried some slices of zucchini for the second layer – again with some olive oil. Finally, I boiled the butterfly pasta - until al dente of course – in some salt and olive oil – as it’s supposed to be.

You can see that I mentioned olive oil a lot of time, because – as you may already guess it – that’s the thing that causes me grieve when assembling the verrine. They just make the glass so smudgy. I spend litterally hours to make a reasonable arrangement for shooting. And even after that, I have to spend hours in post processing to remove the little oil drops that sticks on the inner glass wall. And worse, at the end, I just don’t think it’s good enough. So I decided to remake it again – with the “fashionist” approach.

The second time around, I went pretty radical. The eggplant base layer is raw, and also the zucchini slices. Being raw make the assembling so much easier and they don’t seem to leave nasty oily marks on the glass wall.  Also, the raw eggplant is more “solid” compared to the pan-fried-with-olive-oil version which is much softer much like a saggy sofa for the layer above. The solid raw version proof to provide a good base for the second layer of zucchini. It sort of prevent the zucchini slices to sink into the eggplant layer.

The same thing applies for the zucchini slices. Raw slices are much more solid, ie not as soft – this in turn provide a good base for the pasta and tomato halves on the top layer. 

For a bit more decoration I put a couple of pine nuts under the grill of few minutes to bring out the dark orangish colour.  And for the final steps, I poured the olive oil so it soaks down into the base layer. The eggplant will just absorbs the oil, giving the appearance that it’s just been cooked.

Props

I decided to go high key this time and in portrait orientation. This leaves me with quite a lot of empty spaces on the top of the frame, so I scatter some of the raw ingredients that makes up the verrine arround the empty space. I think it works quite well. I’m really warming up to this approach now – ie prop with the raw ingredients. We’ll see how well it work in the next project.

The shooting

Camera is set to F4 at 1/20 ISO200. As usual, I use my 100mm macro to shoot this. I decided to set the angle a bit higher so that the top part is a little bit more visible. Lighting is placed at 10 o’clock direction, but quite elevated – it’s pointing down approximately 45 degree to the subject. I am trying to get the top ring of the glass to lit up. Well it does, but the effect is not as visible because the high key setup. Maybe I’ll try again in the next low key project. A big reflector at 4 o’clock direction, also held quite high so it doesn’t form a reflection on the surface of the glass.

I didn’t take a shot of the setup this time – I didn’t remember until I almost finish clean up! I’ll try to remember next time.

Observation

I actually change the glass between my first (failed) attempt to the second. In the first attempt the glass that I used has quite a thick wall. I found this to be a disadvantage. When the glass is thick, and say you put a haf-tomato facing the glass wall, the tomato appear to “float” in the glass. In the final shot above I used a glass with thin wall. I think it works quite well.

Going back to the “purist” vs “fashionist” discussion, I really think being able to switch back and forth is a great advantage. To say the purists are wrong is like saying that shooting candid shot of people are non-sense. Equivalently, to say the fashionists are wrong is like saying people cannot put on make up to be photographed. I probably put myself more on the fashionist side – which side are you on?

It’s almost six o’clock in the morning. I’m sat at a most solid kitchen table. Dawn has yet to break and I can hear a not so distant rooster. Through the window before me, lights flicker. A village, I presume, but I’ve yet to see the land in daylight. I’ll be sat here a while, so it’s sure to reveal itself to me in due course.

I realise that I am typing without looking at the keyboard. When did that happen?

Joyce (the cat, named after Grenfell. The dog is Ulysses, perhaps the other Joyce) nudges a snack-dispensing toy along the floor. Every once in a while, it gives out some small treat. She needs to lose weight, they say, but she is of a certain age and it seems reasonable enough that ladies of a certain age may also be of a certain size. All is quite calm within the house, a converted old barn with enough ceiling space within the sitting room to probably fit the entirety of my house in London. Coffee, a cigarette. Magical words from my hosts: feel free to smoke absolutely anywhere. No need for doorstep trembling or surreptitious window leaning. All is good.

Haute-Savoie, France. No longer Japan. Several weeks ago, I attended a reunion of several old school friends. Whatever happened to S., I wondered. An hour or so of internet searching narrowed it down to the village of Cernex. I spotted her peeking around the shoulder of some other local in some local newspaper. Aha! I’d not seen her since her marriage to P. some years ago. Letters exchanged, why not come and visit, my return to England softened by the thought that I’d head off soon enough for France. So I’m spending a few days here, a couple in Avignon and then down to the Cote d’Azur again.

Let’s get back to Japan. Tidy up those loose ends whilst they’re still fresh.

So, what about Fukuoka? I guess I should take more photos. What is, you might think, a food blog without photos? As I’ve said before, I have issues with photography. For a start, I find taking photographs skews my perception. Rather than look at things, I look for photographs. Contrasts, framing, colour and so on. I contain the limitless bound of my eye in a frame. I do it sometimes, but it means that I stop looking. I like looking.

We’re used to food writing being accompanied by photography, particularly on the internet where there are no issues of printing expense. Show it to me! I want to see it. I can’t help but think of pornography, or at least sexually explicit images. If I am presented with a dish, is that experience best represented by the uneaten plate, everything before me? Top off, pants down, legs spread. There you go. Oh, she was like that? Well, she looked like that. And yet the experience of the dish might most poignantly be represented by something else entirely: a flower arrangement by the wall, a view from the window, a hand resting upon a pillow, the body unshown, close up of a fork nudged across a plate, some fallen crumbs, a scrunched up napkin partly in shadow. These are the memories. Rather than the meat and two veg of it all.

I’ve never gone to bed with people thinking “I must take photographs of this right now! Do you mind?”. Introducing the camera would change the perception, bound forever in two dimensions, flattened, framed. A performance for the shady gentleman half-hidden behind the curtain. Maybe that works for you, but not for me. I like memory, its assurances and its unreliability, its imperfect humanity. When data is cheap, it’s all remembered – supposedly – all recorded, never thrown away, permanent. It doesn’t dissolve, fade, evaporate as we are all bound to do ourselves.

So, if this makes any sense, I don’t like taking photographs of food anymore than taking revealing photographs of lovers. I want a relationship with the food, I don’t want a representation. So here’s an empty plate:

This empty plate, or rather pan, once contained a delicious fish, but the fish has vanished! Where? My stomach. Can you tell us about the fish? A little, I suppose, it was isaki, aka grunt or Parapristipoma trilineatum. Fished in Nagasaki, with a simple (asari) clam and tomato sauce. I was very happy to eat it. To start, I’d eaten an aubergine and blue cheese salad, except in this case the aubergine was raw. Raw? Yup, some new fangled style of Japanese aubergine that eats more like an apple. Astonishing also. These revelations occurred in the restaurant Kasa that I mentioned previously, although it’s seems just as much to trade under the name Konya Cafe, as part of a gallery/exhibition space. It was only a short walk from my hotel in Daimyo. Yes, I also had Hakata ramen, one-bite gyoza, mentaiko tempura, all manner of local goodness at various yatai (mobile food-stalls), but this is the meal that really left its impression on me. Perhaps because it was my very first upon arriving in Japan.

Yosuke was cooking alone that night. I ate at numerous similar operations in Japan, small restaurants with a central open kitchen, customers around the edge. It’s a style of eating I’d love to see more of in London. As a solitary traveller, I really don’t want a table to myself. My only disappointment with Kasa/Konya was that the singular staffing (on that night, anyway) meant that there were no desserts on offer. I made do with grappa instead…

(The dawn is making itself felt, it looks like this)

That’s all I’m going to say about Fukuoka for now. I’ve also not quite finished with Ishigaki, or rather Iriomote, an island about 45 minutes away on high speed ferry. I had planned to stay three nights here, but a typhoon meandered its way closer and I had to leave, since boats were being cancelled and I could possibly have been marooned for several days. I found the food at my minshuku (Kanpira-so) amply generous and tasty. Breakfast might be rice and miso (for the Japanese), champuru and fried spam (for the locals), poached egg and toast (for the Englishman). All of these things for everyone. Star fruit, dragon fruit, citrus… With breakfast and dinner, there wasn’t really that much room for lunch, but I confidently strode out into the middle of what is called BIG RAIN (ooame, 大雨) for a two-hour walk up the coast and around. After two hours, a thorough soaking, I sought refuge in a bus shelter until I stopped dripping. Upon the Miyamoto’s recommendation, I went and checked out the Iriomote Café. Here for once is an actual photograph of food!

I sat there for a good three hours, sheltering from the rain, drinking beer chatting with a hiking watercolourist, another island-hopper and the waitress. It was off-season, quiet, welcoming. The cafe has been set up with view to creating as low an ecological impact as possible. It’s a very wild island. There are wind turbines outside (only one working, the waitress apologises for the rather dimly lit interior), the owner is building some holiday rooms just to the side of the café, set into the slope, they’ll recycle their water (not that there was any shortage of water on that day). They should be open by next year and some of the rooms will command a beautiful view across the small island facing and the eventual sunset. It’s looking a little bleaker on the day I visit:

What about the food? Oh, that. Light, wholesome, delicately spiced taco rice. Somehow exactly what I needed! Welcome, chat, shelter, beer. All quite perfect. Thank you, Iriomote Cafe!

All in all, despite a couple of so-so experiences, I thought Ishigaki and Iriomote were quite delicious places to visit. Even A&W is tasty!

And next? Well, then it was Osaka and I’ll get to that, in the now I’m not sure. Although a suggestion of visiting a local cheese specialist has been made. Oh, cheese, just pop your top off there, sweetie, it’s been sometime…

Af en toe een dag vegetarisch kan geen kwaad. Bovendien ben ik het ook echt lekker gaan vinden. Vroeger draaide alles om het vlees. We aten een biefstuk met…. Inmiddels ben ik groentes steeds meer gaan waarderen. Ze zijn heerlijk en je kan er eindeloos mee variëren. Dus nu eten we aubergine met…..

Op Saturday Kitchen, 1 van mijn favoriete kookprogramma’s, zag ik het volgende recept.

Vegetarische Spaghetti uit Sicilië.
Spaghetti voor 2 personen
1 aubergine
Goede olijfolie
2 knoflookteentjes (met zout op de snijplank tot pulp gemaakt)
1 theelepel chilivlokken (of meer naar smaak – maar kijk uit, zijn echt erg pittig)
1 blik tomatenblokjes
Een stuk goede feta
Bosje verse basilicum

Aubergines in staafjes snijden. Ruim bestrooien met zout en een half uur laten staan.
Spaghetti in ruim kokend water en zout al dente koken (volg aanwijzingen op het pak).
Een paar eetlepels goede olijfolie warm laten worden en de aubergines op hoog vuur lekker bruin bakken. Uit laten lekken en apart zetten. Knoflook en chilivlokken in een beetje extra olijfolie aanzetten. Blik tomatenblokjes en de aubergines toevoegen. Spaghetti toevoegen en van het vuur afhalen. Feta en basilicum in stukken erdoorheen mengen. In een mooie schaal serveren. Nog wat extra feta en basilicum eroverheen strooien.
Lekker met een goed glas Italiaanse rode wijn.

Bron: Rick Stein – Saturday Kitchen

it’s eggplant season around here, which can mean only one thing.

ok, maybe paninis too – but that’s a different post.

this is a vegetarian dish–the protein comes from the black bean sauce–but it’s not for wimps (eaters or chefs).

3 asian-style (long) eggplants… or 1 medium sized regular eggplant, in 1″ dice
1 onion, very coarsely chopped
1 clove garlic and 1 pinky-tip’s worth of fresh ginger root, both chopped fine
1 tbsp black bean sauce
2 tbsp commercial stir-fry sauce or oyster sauce
super-hot hot sauce, to taste
1 tbsp sugar

i know you want to use a wok, but unless you have access to a gas stove with a really hot flame, don’t. trust me.

heat 1/4 cup peanut oil in a cast iron pan. you heard me right, 1/4 cup. don’t skimp.

when quite hot (it won’t smoke, it’s peanut oil) – add the onions, garlic, and ginger, a little at a time, stirring constantly so the pan doesn’t lose heat.

after 1 minute, add the eggplant, stirring constantly. the onions will still be mostly raw – don’t worry about it.

stir eggplant for 5 minutes on medium high heat… or, if you have an old stove, high. every so often let some eggplant sit on the bottom of the pan for half a minute to “grill” it.

when eggplant is starting to look translucent, add 1/4 cup water, then the sugar and sauces. stir, cover, and let steam/simmer on low for another 5 minutes.

taste before serving over rice. it should be neither too salty nor too sweet–just a perfect balance (think kettle corn, if kettle corn were spicy).

Hemma i min familj fortsätter vi att äta pasta på måndagar…Ikväll blir det nog pasta med en Syditaliensk sötsur caponata dvs auberginer stekta med grönsaker, oliver och kapris. Ibland häller  jag i en burk kokta vita bönor och andra gånger ökar jag sältan med lite skarpsillsfiléer (ansjovis). Italien använder man förstås sardeller.

Det här behövs till 4 portioner:  2 små auberginer, 2 vitlöksklyftor, 1 grön paprika, 3 tomater, 2 msk olivolja, 2 krm chili flakes, (4 ansjovisfiléer), 3-4 dl kokta vita bönor, 20 kärnfria oliver, 4 msk kapris, 1 tsk rosmarin, 1/2 tsk salt  och pressad citron,

• Gör så här: Skölj, skiva auberginerna och skär i små bitar. Skala och finskiva vitlöken. Skölj, kärna ur och skär paprikan i bitar. Skölj och skär tomaterna i klyftor.
• Hetta upp oljan i en stekgryta. Lägg i vitlöken, chili flakes och fräs någon minut. Tillsätt därefter i tur och ordning och med någon minuts fördröjning ­– auberginebitar, paprikabitar, tomatklyftor, skarpsill i bitar och bönor. Rör om och låta småputtra några minuter.
• Rör i oliver, kapris, rosmarin och smaka av med salt och pressad citron. Späd med vatten om såsen är för tjock.
• Häll såsen över en skål med spagetti eller fusilli. Precis nyriven parmesan eller kanske ännu hellre pecorino (fårost) är gott till.

Tips: Givetvis kan de färska tomaterna ersättas med en burk hela konserverade. Och paprikan kan bytas mot bladselleri.

2 aubergines sliced lengthways and grilled with olive oil until golden
1 ball of mozzarella, cut into slices, 
2 large ripe tomatoes, cut into slices
2-3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 tbsp balsamic vinegar
handful of fresh basil leaves

arrange the slices of grilled aubergines, tomatoes and mozzarella in layers

scatter the basil leaves on top

drizzle the olive oil and vinegar over the tomatoes, mozzarella, basil and aubergines

season with salt and freshly ground black pepper

I’m hungry.

.tricolore.

Pasta tricolore with aubergine and cherry tomatoes with olive oil, garlic and basil! mmmm……

There I was, innocently doing a puzzle in Irasutorojikku (a Japanese puzzle monthly), when I noticed a recipe printed beneath. Closer investigation revealed that it was vegan, and I proceeded to impress my partner no end by translating the important bits there and then. Tonight I had a go at making it, and it was lovely. According to the blurb, it’s a Tokyo dish.

1 very large aubergine (originally three small, or two Japanese large)
A blend of sunflower and sesame oil, for frying the aubergine.

For the sauce:
2 tbl mirin
2 tbl water
1 tbl miso (type not specified – I used a dark, evil barley miso, which worked well)

To finish:
Soy sauce to taste
sugar to taste (I used rice syrup)

Cut the aubergine into (UK) chip shapes 5cm by 6mm square (about 2″ by ¼” – yes, it was that specific). Heat up the oils in a large frying pan, add the aubergine and fry until soft. Mix the sauce ingredients and add to the pan. Cook for a couple of minutes then add the soy sauce and sugar. And that’s it.

I served it with brown rice and grilled tofu. The omnivorous one ate it really quickly and urged me to post the recipe so that I have a record of it other than my pencilled notes in the puzzle book! One day, he will add up what he’s spent on Japanese lessons for me, and then he might be less impressed.