eggplant

Flatbread with Chicken Shawarma, Eggplant, and Caramelized Onions / August 2, 2016 by Cynthia Raub

Flatbread with Chicken Shawarma and Eggplant Dip with Caramelized Onions

Recently, I got an email from NYT Cooking that was sharing Sam Sifton's Oven-Roasted Chicken Shawarma. It is one of those invaluable and easy pantry dishes that come together with very little prep and even less hands-on cooking. Throw marinade and chicken into a bag, let sit, dump on a sheet tray and toss it in the oven. And then what emerges is fragrant, multi-dimensional, and tasty chicken. The chicken is highly versatile as it can be served alongside typical Mediterranean sides and dishes like pita, cucumber and tomato, hummus, and rice. Or, I thought, you could throw it on a flatbread (a.k.a. pizza dough) and feel like a real, true and actual genius. Do you know what else is genius? Outsourcing the luscious spread to marry the flatbread and chicken together. You see, I am all too familiar with Amy's love for eggplant and I decided to exploit it. I told her I was planning on making the chicken shawarma, and I thought about putting it on a flatbread but that's where my ideas ended. Dang, shoot, crud - I'm plum out of ideas! Oh what could possibly be irresistibly delicious to spread on the flatbread? Then like a horse out of the gate, Amy threw out a dozen ideas, and it ended with roasted eggplant with caramelized onions. That was it. We are going to make this together, eat it, and be happy.

Notes: I used this recipe for the flatbread and pre-cooked the bread before adding any of the toppings. Like pizza, flatbread can be topped with nearly anything, so in the words of Melania Trump (just kidding, FLOTUS Michelle Obama) about flatbread toppings, "the only limit to your achievement is the strength of your dreams and your willingness to work for them." #foodwisdom

Eggplant Dip with Caramelized Onions and Tahini / August 2, 2016 by Amy Cantu

It was another one of those harried days - I felt vaguely grumpy from getting too little sleep because I've become so used to waking up at every little sound my kids make that I'm now an insomniac. Also, I'm a worrier. I can't help it. I lay awake at night thinking about nothing and everything - that weird bump I found on the back of one kid's knee, the persistent grumble in my stomach, why American politics is so polarized, and exactly what time do I need to roll out of bed so that I still have enough time to throw together a lunchbox and get to the preschool on time (or maybe just 5 minutes late)? It's possible, I also drink too much caffeine too late in the day. I digress. The previous night, I laid awake distraught over eggplant dip, and now I stood in the kitchen with Cynthia and Christine passing around pieces of flatbread with various versions of eggplant dip, "OK, which do you like better? Bite A or B? Really? Are you sure you like B? What?! And you like A better? Well you're both no help!" In that moment, it felt like world peace depended upon which eggplant dip tasted better, and I was at an impasse. (I know this sounds ridiculous, and that's because it was. This is also a PSA on the importance of sleep. Don't be like me!) My dad would be the tie-breaker. "OK dad, it's down to you. Which one tastes better??? No pressure. Actually, yes, pressure. You're deciding!" My dad looked at me dubiously, as I shoved a bite into his mouth. "Mmmm, yeah this one tastes good. Kind of creamy." And then I pushed the second bite his way. "Mmmm, yeah this one tastes good too." Exasperated, I cried, "Oh, come on! You said almost the same thing twice!" My dad looked at me like he did when I was a teenager, and I was being particularly hormonal and witchy. He grunted, "Mmm. The second one. I can taste that it has eggplant." The tie breaker - because an eggplant dip should also taste like it contains eggplant. Brilliant! So, here is my recipe for Eggplant Dip with Caramelized Onions and Tahini: The roasted eggplant is silky, the caramelized onions adds deep savory sweetness, the tahini coats the tongue in nutty richness, and most importantly, you can still taste the eggplant! Sometimes it takes a village to raise children, and sometimes it takes a village just to make a bowl of eggplant dip. It's darn good eggplant dip.

Notes: This eggplant dip is a delicious and different accompaniment to a crudité platter, especially if you throw in some wedges of pita bread. The texture is already a bit creamy from the roasted eggplant and tahini, but you could extend the dip and make it even creamier by stirring in some plain yogurt. It will be a different kind of delicious. My dilemma as to whether to include the yogurt in the recipe was great (see babble above), because both versions of this dip are delicious with or without the yogurt. However, aside from using this dish as a dip, it also makes an amazing spread for Chicken Shawarma Flatbread or a fancy pizza, if you will. I repeat, AMAZING. And for this use, I say, no yogurt.

I call for aleppo chile flakes in the recipe, which is worth seeking out. I got a bag on Amazon, and it's now my go-to for chile flakes. Aleppo chile is commonly used in Middle Eastern cuisines, and adds a little heat (without being over-powering), bright acidity, and an interesting je ne sais quoi to whatever you sprinkle it on!

Lentils with Broiled Eggplant / May 24, 2016 by Amy Cantu

Luxurious. I would not have ever imagined that I might describe a lentil salad this way, but luxurious is exactly the perfect word. Smoky, silky, creamy, spicy, and a bit tangy: All of these sensations tangle together into one luxurious bite after another. Eggplant can be sensual. Yes, I said it. The broiled eggplant lifts ordinary lentils into a sensual tizzy of textures and flavors, and I don't think I've been the same ever since! Please eat this. It's a feast of colors for the eyes, sustaining nutrients for the body, and sensual luxury for the mouth and tongue. I understand completely now why Yotam Ottolenghi's approach to treating and eating vegetables can become an obsessive experience. I am forever changed, and now seeking to cook every single recipe in his cookbooks. (Speaking of which, Cynthia shared Ottolenghi's Rice Salad with Nuts and Sour Cherries with us, and I will be making this immediately. So good.)

Notes: The smoky broiled eggplant is what makes this dish so special. Roasting them directly over a gas stove is the fastest way to cook them and achieve that smoky flavor, but it definitely made a mess that took scrubbing to clean up. If you can lay down aluminum foil around the flame to catch some of the drippings, that would help a lot, but this was hard to do with my particular stovetop. Using the oven broiler to roast the eggplant is a less messy alternative, but it does take an hour instead of 15 minutes. If you choose the broiler method, please ensure that you poke the eggplant all over with a small sharp knife, to allow steam to escape. Otherwise, the eggplant may explode all over the oven - an even bigger mess to clean up!

The harissa is optional, but I was so happy to have a jar of homemade harissa gifted to me from Cynthia. It elevated this already excellent lentil salad into something truly special.

Read More: The Shared Plenty (More)

Time: 45 minutes to 1 hour, 30 minutes (depending on your method for roasting the eggplant)
Servings: 4

2 medium eggplants
2 tablespoons top-quality red wine vinegar
salt and black pepper
1 cup small dark lentils (such as Puy or Castelluccio), rinsed
3 small carrots, peeled
2 celery stalks
1 bay leaf
3 thyme sprigs
1/2 white onion
3 tablespoons olive oil, plus extra to finish
12 cherry tomatoes, halved
1/3 teaspoon brown sugar
1 tablespoon each roughly chopped parsley, cilantro and dill
2 tablespoon crème fraîche (or natural yogurt, if you prefer)
2 tablespoons harissa (purchased or homemade), optional

To cook the eggplants on a gas stovetop, which is the most effective way: Start by lining the area around the burners with foil to protect them. Put the eggplants directly on two moderate flames and roast for 12 to 15 minutes, turning frequently with metal tongs, until the flesh is soft and smoky and the skin is burnt all over. Keep an eye on them the whole time so they don’t catch fire.

To broil the eggplants in an oven instead: pierce the eggplants all over with a sharp knife. (This creates exit points for the steam to escape the eggplant; otherwise, the eggplant will explode and make a giant mess!) Put them on a foil-lined tray and place directly under a hot broiler for 1 hour, turning them a few times. The eggplants need to deflate completely and their skin should burn and break.

Remove the eggplants from the heat. If you used an oven broiler, change the oven to its normal setting. Heat the oven to 275°F. Cut a slit down the center of the eggplants and scoop out the flesh into a colander, avoiding the black skin. Leave to drain for at least 15 minutes and only then season with plenty of salt and pepper and 1/2 tablespoon of the vinegar.

While the eggplants are broiling, place the lentils in a medium saucepan. Cut one carrot and half a celery stalk into large chunks and throw them in. Add the bay leaf, thyme and onion, cover with plenty of water and bring to the boil. Simmer on a low heat for up to 25 minutes, or until the lentils are tender, skimming away the froth from the surface from time to time. Drain in a sieve. Remove and discard the carrot, celery, bay leaf, thyme and onion and transfer the lentils to a mixing bowl. Add the rest of the vinegar, 2 tablespoons of the olive oil and plenty of salt and pepper; stir and set aside somewhere warm.

Cut the remaining carrot and celery into 3/8-inch dice and mix with the tomatoes, the remaining oil, the sugar and some salt. Spread in an ovenproof dish and cook in the oven for about 20 minutes, or until the carrot is tender but still firm.

Add the cooked vegetables to the warm lentils, followed by the chopped herbs and stir gently. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Spoon the lentils onto serving plates. Pile some eggplant in the center of each portion and top it with a dollop each of crème fraîche or yogurt and harissa. Finish with a trickle of oil.

Adapted very slightly from:

Plenty: Vibrant Vegetable Recipes from London's Ottolenghi