I was looking round San Diego's corner of the webiverse, and noticing that annual rise in concern over what to do with all those zucchini about to go wild in people's home gardens. Well folks, if you do happen to be burdened with extra zucchini, feel free to send some of your excess bounty to me. And if your garden is also overproducing eggplant, tomatoes, bell peppers, and/or basil, send those along too. Because all of those things together, along with some onion and garlic, add up to one of my absolute favorite dishes to cook: ratatouille.
I was into ratatouille way before the sweet animated movie. In fact, I was into it even before my first run-in with Julia Child. It was Joy of Cooking, of all books, that introduced me to the joy of ratatouille. My copy of the 1970s edition is in a box somewhere (since I haven't started unpacking from my latest move), but I recall being taken with Mrs. Rombauer's description of the completed dish looking like a Braque still life. And when I actually made the dish I was even more taken with it. The combo of veggies is like nothing less than summer in a bowl.
Since then I've spent a lot of time tinkering with the Joy recipe, adding ideas from many other sources (including Julia), and reading the various on-line diatribes about what does or does not constitute an authentic Provencal ratatouille, with the mixture of amusement and understanding I reserve for such rants (after all, you should get me going sometime about my opinions, as a child of the New York Metro area, of what pizza, bagels, and pastrami should and should not be). So what follows is my favorite method for making ratatouille. I can't swear it's authentic, but I can say it's really really yummy.
Note I said method, not recipe. This is really kind of loose--you basically "put in till it looks right," as cooks in my family used to say. Quantities are approximate, and there are some choices I leave open to whim and taste.
Ingredients:
- Eggplant -- one standard-sized big globe eggplant. Of course you could use the equivalent volume of little Italian or even Asian eggplants, but I think the big sturdy eggplant holds together better when simmered. Try to get one that feels heavy and dense for its size. I still ascribe to the (possibly fallacious) rule that the ones with the tiny blossom-scar on the bottom have fewer seeds than the ones with big scars (though yeah, they're not "female" and "male" eggplants--they're the plant's seed-carriers so by definition all eggplant fruits are female).
- Zucchini -- enough to about equal the volume of eggplant. If you have a choice, choose small zucchini rather than large ones, as the latter will be a bit more watery. But you can make the large ones work if that's what your generous gardener-friends have given you.
- Bell peppers -- Two, of good size. The sweetness of red peppers is really the best for this dish, but again, if your generous neighbors picked their peppers green, you can make them work.
- Tomatoes -- Slightly less than the volume of eggplant. Any decent-tasting fleshy tomato will work. Notice I said decent-tasting. Just about any tomato that comes out of a local garden will beat the spit out of anything you can find in a supermarket, short of those super-expensive heirlooms. Of course, if your gardening neighbor gives you a lot of heirlooms, use some of 'em for this dish ... but if s/he only gives you a few, save those for eating raw with just a sprinkle of salt. If you have to go storebought, Romas are best. Or else use good-quality canned whole Italian tomatoes. It'll be fine, I swear.
- Onion -- one nice big one. Brown, red, white, or sweet all work, and give their unique spin on the outcome.
- Garlic -- the better part of one whole knob. The only limit is your love of garlic and your patience for removing the skins of the little buggers.
- Basil -- several big leaves worth. Some will go in at the beginning, and some will go in at the end.
- Dried red chile -- one or two. Optional, but I like the little kick it adds.
- Kosher salt -- for purging the eggplant and for seasoning.
- Lemon juice -- for keeping the eggplant from turning brown while it's waiting to go in the pot.
- Freshly-ground black pepper -- to taste, for seasoning
- Olive oil -- for sauteeing and/or roasting various veggies
- Sugar -- just a teaspoonful, a trick I learned to balance the acidity of the tomatoes so you don't get that acid-y aftertaste that can happen with tomato-based dishes.
Okay, so now you've got your ingredients assembled and you've got some choices:
- Purging the eggplant -- I really feel that the eggplant's texture and flavor benefit from this, but if you don't have the time or energy you can get away without it.
- Roasting vs. sauteeing the onions, peppers, and garlic -- I have come to love the extra flavor added by roasting these veggies--the red peppers especially get incredibly fruity-sweet. But if it's just way too hot to turn on the oven, or if there's some other reason you don't want to bother, just saute these in the olive oil instead.
A note about equipment for this recipe: Not only does cut eggplant oxidize when exposed to air, but it
also discolors when in contact with any reactive material (i.e.
aluminum). And acid foods like tomatoes don't care for reactive metals
either. So use stainless steel, glass, wood, or other non-reactive tools
and utensils throughout this recipe.
So here at last we get underway--I'm going to give the full version with the purging and roasting:
- Eggplant: have ready a big bowl half-filled with water to which you've added a stiff shot of lemon juice. Peel and remove the stem from the eggplant, and cut it into thick (one-inch) slices. Dunk the eggplant in the acidulated water from time to time and place the slices there when cut, to prevent browning from oxidation. Now take the eggplant out of the water, blot each slice briefly, and layer them in a colander, sprinkling each layer liberally with salt. Place a flat plate on top, and a heavy weight (say, an extra can of tomatoes) on top of the plate. Set aside in a sink or bowl to drain off some liquids.
- Veggies to be roasted: preheat oven to around 350F. Peel the onion and cut into one-inch chunks (say, wedge it, then halve the wedges crosswise). Remove stems, seeds, and ribs from bell peppers and cut into one-inch chunks too. Break the garlic into cloves; trim off ends of cloves and peel (I don't bother using the little skinny cloves in the middle as they're more work to peel than I think they're worth--save 'em for something else if you'd like). Place all these veggies in a big bowl, drizzle liberally with olive oil, sprinkle with kosher salt, and toss until all are well-coated. Spread out on one or more oiled baking sheets so that there's a goodly amount of room between pieces of veg--they won't roast properly if they're too crowded. Place in the oven and keep an eye on them--they're done when the peppers and onions are showing a good bit of caramelization, but overdone when bits start turning black.
- Zucchini -- remove stem ends and cut into thick, one-inch slices. If using extra-large zucchini, you can halve these slices cross-wise--but you want that one-inch thickness, that helps keep the zuke chunks from dissolving into mush when cooked.
- Tomatoes -- I just can't be bothered to peel 'em, but if you want to, go right ahead. Again, one-inch chunks. Try to capture and reserve as much of the juices and jellied bits as you can. You can sieve out the seeds if you wish--this is another detail I don't bother with.
- Basil -- pick a bunch of big good-looking leaves from your basil plant or bunch of basil.
- The eggplant again -- remove from colander, rinse each slice briefly to remove salt. You should be able to very gently squeeze each slice like a sponge to wring out even a little more liquid, without breaking the slices. Blot dry, and cut slices into those one-inch chunks like everything else.
- Assembling it all -- when the roasting veggies are looking close to being ready, take the big stewing pot you've chosen for this occasion and put it on the stove over medium-lowish heat. Put a generous shot of olive oil in there, tilt the pot around so the oil coats the bottom, and let it come up to cooking temperature. Add the eggplant, and stir it about, letting it get coated with oil. After the eggplant has had a chance to gain some heat, add the tomatoes with their reserved juices, and stir gently to mix. Add all the roasted veggies; again stir gently. Add a handful of whole basil leaves, the dried chile, and a grind of black pepper. Let the pot come up to temperature as needed after all those additions, and then put on a tight-fitting lid and turn temperature down to medium-low.
- Check after about 10 minutes--the veggies should have released enough juices that the liquid level has come up considerably, and the eggplant and zucchini should have started to soften, but are probably still a bit raw. Now you can add the sugar; stir again, very gently, to combine, Put the lid on again and adjust heat so that the pot will very gently simmer. Now keep checking every five minutes or less, giving a gentle stir each time before you replace the lid--you want all the eggplant and zucchini just tender and cooked through, but not too soft, and it can go from one to the other in the blink of an eye. As soon as it's reached that state of doneness, take it off the heat and remove the lid to put the brakes on the cooking.
- Chiffonade your remaining basil leaves and scatter the shreds over your ratatouille. Taste and adjust other seasonings as desired. You're done!
You can serve this hot, cold, or at room temperature. It keeps well in the fridge and is definitely better the next day. It's great by itself, or as a topping on fish or chicken. A sprinkling of grated parmesan, romano, or similar cheese and a handful of olives goes great with it.
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