Perhaps if everyone had the “Italian” advantage that I had when I was first out on my own, they would be better able to properly appreciate that most misunderstood fruit-vegetable, the aubergine. Or for those of us less sophisticated, the eggplant.

            Although the eggplant originated in the Far East, it was the Mediterranean countries, especially Italy, Greece and France, who adopted it as one of their favourite foods. That’s probably because they knew how to cook it. In other European and English speaking countries, the verdict was: Yuck! And it was quickly relegated to the domain of patterns found on dishwares and drapes.

            I myself thought that aubergine was just a snooty way of saying “purple” until I became involved with a fellow whose parents were Italian immigrants. I found myself experiencing many new foods, including tripe and baccala (not to be confused with balaclava or baklava), homemade ravioli and spaghetti sauces, massive lasagne, and caponata, a pickled eggplant antipasto that we heaped on slices of crusty bread. I spent many hours with Mrs. A, learning the craft of Italian cooking from scratch. Almost every vegetable came as if by magic from their seemingly tiny garden: plum tomatoes; garlic; chard; lettuce I didn’t recognize; rosemary and oregano; peppers and eggplants. I began to believe that Mr. A could pull a rabbit out of his hat!

            Since that time—it seems eons ago— I have had hit-and-miss results with eggplant. The major mistake I had made was not taking seriously the importance of freshness when cooking with eggplants.

            In a perfect produce world, we would always be able to select from just-picked eggplant, but after late September, even here on Gabriola, you will find that source dried up, and now you are left with imported varieties from California or Florida. Eggplants are at their best when just picked, as is true with anything. But in the case of an eggplant, age and length of storage time will cause the flavour, often described as “pleasantly bitter” to become “unbearably wretched.”

            While there are many newer and sweeter varieties of eggplant available to us now, including Italian Baby and many Asian varieties, ranging in colour from pink to pale green, and shape from long and skinny to melon-like, it is still the familiar purple American or Globe variety that we will find most often in our supermarkets.

            When selecting eggplant from the store, you have to be very choosy.  A good eggplant should be firm and heavy, glossy and blemish-free. Any brown spots or wrinkling indicates old-age and possibly even rotting inside. A light-weight, large eggplant probably is loaded with bitter seeds. There is one school of thought that it is possible to tell the sex of an eggplant and therefore its seed content by examining the dimple on the bottom end. The word on the street is that a male, with less seeds, has a shallow, round indentation, while the female, with lots of seeds, has a deeper, elongated indentation. I probably wouldn’t spend too much time in the produce section measuring eggplant dimples if I were you; this is not an exact science.

            Whether you need to remove the skin depends upon the dish you are making and the age and variety of plant. Obviously, if you are planning to stuff the eggplant, you will need to leave the skin on. For dishes such as baba ghanoush (eggplant caviar) where the cooked flesh is puréed, the whole eggplant is roasted in the oven, pricking it with a few tiny holes to prevent an explosion. The charred skin can be “sweated” off much the same way you would do with peppers, by putting them while still hot in a paper bag. If you find that you do have a lot of seeds, you can try to scoop out and discard some. Young eggplants and small varieties can also be roasted this way, the skin sliced open and eaten like a baked potato.

            For dishes that require sliced or cubed eggplant, such as ratatouille, moussaka, parmigiana, and caponata, you may have to remove the skin if it seems too tough. This will generally be the case if the eggplant you have is too old or too large. Smaller varieties, including most of the Asian eggplant, Italian, or young Globe eggplants have tender skins that can often be left on. 

            Eggplants contain a lot of water and their spongy texture acts like a blotter for cooking oils. By salting the slices or cubes, placing them in a colander, and weighting them down with a heavy bowl for about 30-45 minutes before cooking, excess juices are drawn out. Besides removing some of the bitter flavour, this makes the flesh denser, compressing it so that when frying or sautéing, it will not become saturated with oil. It also removes excess liquid that can cause any dish they are used in from becoming too watery. Broiling or grilling eggplant slices, lightly brushed with olive oil, before using them in any dish, will improve their flavour, making it more smoky, and also improve their texture.

            Anyone who disregards these important steps in making an eggplant dish may well find that they are responsible for turning off potential eggplant lovers before they ever have a chance to discover the fabulous, smoky flavour of slices of marinated grilled eggplant, topped with provolone cheese on a crispy sub bun.         

            Last night, for dinner, I had frozen pizza topped with half a jar of my caponata. Must be the Irish in me.