Well, there were extra eggplants and carrots...

I made two dishes that I have always wanted to make:  a healthier eggplant parmigiana (this just means sans breading to me, as my relatives bread the guts out and deep fat fry the eggplant rounds until their is no taste of eggplant left, sorry for outing you guys!) and a carrot cake from, well, carrots.

Top view of my stacks of goodness.

 I was inspired by my good friend for the eggplant dish, she made it for a vegetarian night and it was pitch perfect. So, after the eggplant paste experiment was done, we had two eggplants just sitting there asking to be parmigianed. That is a verb, correct? To 'parmigiana' something is to cover it in parmesan cheese. I don't know, but, I am went for it. I sliced up those eggplants, patted them dry, salted them, lightly fried them and rested them on paper towels to soak up the excess oil. I started my sauce, simple red sauce which I use either canned plum tomatoes or canned diced tomatoes to start and add any mixture of garlic, herbs, spices and my new favorite ingredient, carrots. I food process the carrots and saute them with any garlic, shallot (which I prefer over onion) and any other bits I mix in. I love the sweetness the carrots lend to balance the acidity of the tomato. I love the idea of adding vegetables for the health of it. I love the way the sauce gets chunkier and turns to more of a ragout, the heartiness of it's appearance is deceptive as you don't feel like you are eating a heavy sauce. Here is the fun part, the stacking, stack those slices up with your sliced fresh mozzerella (yum) alternating all of your slices and sauce.

I made carrot cake on an entirely different day. Carrot cake is a long time favorite, since I figured out that it was not a cake made of only shredded carrots, but, a spicy treat with nuts, raisins and the always fantastic cream cheese frosting. Put cream cheese frosting on everything, it is such a luxury and just too, too tasty.
So, I went about the recipe, shredding carrots, adding the optional raisins and walnuts, and whizzing this lovely batter together. My recipe called for ground cardamom, along with its other spices. I could not find ground cardamom. I did have some whole cardamom. I soaked it in boiling water to soften and then shelled it and tried my very best to crush its interior with my mortar and pestle. It was not encouraging but I tossed it in anyway and hoped for the best. The cake went into the oven and I looked to mixing up the frosting. Scoop the cream cheese out of its package and make sure to lick fingers. Also, watch your boyfriend because he will sneak up on you and spread your cream cheese on toast or just dip in with his finger. I whipped up the frosting and added the best thing ever, vanilla bean. Vanilla bean, it makes it, it always does.

Can you see the tiny black specks of vanilla bean?

 The cake came out and got frosted with no trouble. It was dense, spicy and the cardamom should have been ground but the little soft seeds throughout added such a pow to each mouthful that I can't be sure I won't do that again. They may be the same sort of addition as the raisins and walnuts. The cake somehow seems to tear apart on the fork as you pull the bite from the piece of cake, the shredded carrot is woven into the cake. It is dense, glorious goodness. There really isn't any need to eat that store carrot cake again. It's been good to me in the past but, now I have had the real thing. There is no going back.

Oh Inaki! You love me long time.

When I was in Paris last August, G took me to Le Chateaubriand restaurant. We ate there four out of the 10 days we were there. The dinner is prix fixe at 45 euro and the menu is set by the chef, no choices or decisions made by you except for wine and the wine list is full of solid choices. Inaki Aizpitarte is the chef of this small restaurant in a less touristy area of Paris. We discovered the restaurant, or G did, because David Chang (culinary hero) mentioned it somewhere in cyberspace. Part of the sales pitch as to why this place/chef would be an amazing experience was this youtube video of Inaki doing something with an eggplant that I could not imagine.
Take a look:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eq7o6AOIXaI&feature=youtube_gdata

We went to the restaurant that first night. It is so unassuming. It seemed like the kitchen and waitstaff showed up at this space and put the tables out and began cooking. The tables are simple, utilitarian, a chalk board with the wine makers written on is the wall art, the simple bar stands to the left, the light fixtures are well chosen and understated but, the buzz, the buzz. Everyone is there to eat. You might think, duh, that is why people go out to dinner. But, it isn't. People go out to eat for different reasons but, not everyone truly searches for an eating experience. If you are looking, find this place.

I am going to tell you about the several meals we ate there in future posts, but, let's talk eggplant puree just now. G wanted to make it at home. So, he watched the posted video over and over and we bought 2 eggplants. Two eggplants go on the fire and get charred. Then, into the little food processor and blend it up. It came out flecked with black but still eggplanty mash. I ran down to the store for 2 more eggplants and we started again. Same result. Down to the store again 4 eggplants this time, what did the bodega check out guys think about all the eggplant we were buying? I don't know. Two more on the flames but this time scrape the middle out, leave enough flesh to give some body to the charred skin and the hand blender to whir it up.

Fire roasted eggplant on the home grill leaves black ash all over.

Look at that smoke, smelled so strong and rich.

 Then it gets baked in the oven until it is a crisp flat of eggplant blackness and blend again.

Baked eggplant mash getting peeled from the baking paper.

 Oil gets added while it is blended and we get a creamy, tar black paste. The flavor reminds us of Paris and Le Chateaubriand. The rich texture is like the best parts of BBQ, save the meat. That charred richness with a sweet undertone is thick and begs for slathering artfully across a plate as our new culinary hero does at his Paris joint (no disrespect, DC, you are still held in high esteem).

This is the fish course at Le, the paste lies beneath white fish, grilled baby eggplant, shaved beetroot, purple basil, what have I missed...

Now, we can make that dish at home but we need your innovation, Inaki, to inspire us and keep us coming back for course after course of your amazing, ingenious creations. It isn't just food at your restaurant, it is the experience and the beauty of the flavor combination with the visual splendor. 

Truffleupagus

I know it is not difficult to imagine that most everything to do with truffles is absolutely wonderful. That rich woodsy, earthy taste that I have enjoyed with so many things. A favorite is simple linguine with shaved truffle and butter sauce; simple, so rich, so decadent, yet so homey and rustic at the same time. I don't have any fresh truffles to shave here at the flat. I was preparing simple Tuesday night pasta and salad, penne with pesto and rocket with diced beets and toasted hazelnuts. I was just about to squeeze some lemon juice for the salad and add a little salt when I focused in on the small bottle of truffle oil on the counter. It has barely been used. Will truffle work with lemon? Taste oil, taste lemon juice, taste oil, taste juice. This may be an easily answerable question to chefs and gourmets alike but, I have yet to have tasted that combo on a salad. I thought, the earthy beets and rich hazelnuts would be very happy under the marinade and the peppery rocket would be strong enough to hold up in that depth of flavor. I used less than a teaspoon of truffle oil, the juice of a half lemon and added about a half teaspoon of that wonderful whole seed mustard and a dash of sea salt, add a bit of neutral oil and done. I whipped it up and took the plunge or made the salad take the plunge. Yum, better than yum, silence, salad crunching silence.