eggplants & vehicles

"Eggplants are vehicles for flavor."

Over the years, I've drawn on these wise words of my good friend, Evan, many a time while in the kitchen.

While other vegetables are also vehicles for flavor -mushrooms, zucchini, and tofu- the versatile eggplant is one of my familiar favorites:

red sesame sauces the eggplant

First, a brief overview on how I classify eggplants into the following two types: prime and over-ripe.

If preparing the eggplant is an intimidation, what of purchasing and knowing when an eggplant is ripe?

eggplant do's

The 'prime' eggplant will have shiny skin and a body that is firm to the grip.

The skin color should be a deep forest indigo, with nary an undesirable brown patch. Whiteness at the stalk or base indicates a young, 'prime' eggplant.

The inner flesh should be white and a solid sponge-like mass. The seeds will not yet be visible. The flesh may still be slightly green near the skin, but this is not a problem.

A 'prime' eggplant -in my kitchen- is actually a bit under-ripe, green at the ends - just as I like my bananas!

eggplant don'ts

The skin of an 'over-ripened' eggplant will be soft and showing signs of wrinklage. If a gentle squeeze leaves an impression, do not buy! Of course, if the eggplant is already in your house, there are ways of reviving it (see below).

The resulting inner flesh will be limp and beginning to show brown variegated lines; the seeds are visible and maturing, creating a texture sensation that brings a wrinkle to the nose.

water good

A tip on maintaining freshness: eggplants like water.

If the eggplant starts to deflate with age, float it in a tub of water (before cutting it in anyway) and it will slowly [and mostly] rehydrate into its original shape and firmness. However, if the skin has already browned, I do not recommend this; it will take on water like a leaky boat!

Likewise, if after cutting you soak it, a soggy sponge you will find. This is not recommended.

to skin or not to skin

As for eating, the naturally tough skin of a young eggplant turn off many, and thus they miss out on the wonderful flesh of the eggplant.

A cultural note that I have learned while living in the East: Northern Chinese tend to remove the skin. Southern Chinese leave the skin on. And both turn their nose up at the other's doing!

I usually spare the skin, for reasons of adding color, diversifying texture, and retaining vitamins. If I properly roast the eggplant wedges before adding any water to steam, I find that the skins acquire a paper-like texture, breaking down for greater palatability.

But for the staunchly eggplant wary, the skin can be easily removed, without any upset to most recipes.

the knife

One last tip on cutting: The Chinese cut oblong vegetables on a quarter turn (i.e., slice at an angle, turn 90º, slice at an angle, turn 90º, etc.)

This ensures that every chunk has some skin on it, while also ensuring that each chunk is mostly flesh.

It also serves a thermal application by allowing the wedges to cook up nicely around the thinner edges while staying a bit firmer at the center.

the recipe: red sesame sauces the eggplant

I cooked up this particular dish, pictured above, in my kitchen last year, on the fly and with great results.

Unfortunately, I had not measured accurately, so I can only offer the below approximation:

ingredients

2-3 T vegetable oil
6-8 cloves garlic
1-in ginger, peeled
1 eggplant, large oblong
water, to steam
35-70 g tomato sauce
1 dollop sesame paste
1 T sugar
salt, to taste
spring onions, to garnish

method

Meanwhile, peel the garlic and ginger, and then smash them [individually] with the broadside of the knife blade.

Meanwhile, heat a generous amount of vegetable oil in a wok over medium flame.

A secret of mine is to drop a tiny clove of garlic in the oil right away; when it starts to sizzle, the oil is primed for adding vegetables. The fragrance serves as a nasal reminder and the sizzling offers an audible warning that the oil is cooking away, should I be minding the makings of another dish.

Mince, then sauté the smashed garlic and ginger over medium flame until golden.

Chop the eggplant into wedges, starting at one end and by turning 90º with each cut. Add directly to the garlic and ginger and oil, and continue tossing over medium heat:

roast, roast, roast my... eggplant

Roast the eggplant, adding a bit of oil to the bottom of the wok, so as to prevent burning. When the skins are sufficiently starting to paperfy, add water as necessary and cover with lid, to steam:

almost good enough to eat right now

Before the eggplant softens through, move the entire mass of eggplant, garlic, and ginger up the side of the wok, making way for the next step.

Add the tomato sauce, sesame paste, sugar, and salt (to taste) at once to the center of the pot, stirring as it boils:

caramelized goodness

The sauce will caramelize into a flavor sensation that can then be tossed with the eggplant.

Lastly, garnish with fresh or roasted sesame seeds and slivered spring onions:

ready to serve and savor

This dish keeps well, over the lowest flame, until the dinner bell rings -making it one of the few Chinese-style dishes that can suffer through a wait, if necessary.

Serve over a bed of fluffy white rice -or wheat noodles- and share with friends!

As this dish above shows, the eggplant is one vegetable vehicle worth a culinary ride!

(Thank you, Daydra, for inspiring the content of this post with your question!)

Note: Access to Blogger is still blocked within China. Without access to a much-appreciated VPN (proxy), I would be unable to publish to my blog from within mainland China. Thus, I am blessed and grateful to be sharing. With every post, I hereby protest the oppressive nature of the Chinese government blocking access to any part of the web.

tag: urinate!

October 1, 2009. National Day. The 60th Anniversary of the founding of The People's Republic of China.

As the capital city of Beijing's Parade and thus downtown were closed off to The People for the grand commemoration of the day, I turned my bike around in defeat and and stopped for a stroll in the park.

sidewalk sighting

the sidewalk is a urinal: urinate to commemorate?

地坛公园 [dìtán gōngyuán, Temple of Earth Park], downtown Beijing: a toddler* pees directly into the sewage.

This is a daily sight here in China.

No matter the [formal] education of the parents, the children urinate and defecate at will -mostly at the base of trees and in drain holes, but also directly on sidewalks and the street.

The practice is encouraged and thought to be normal, though no one will admit it upon questioning.

Just last week, I witnessed a 4-yr old defecating in the middle of a busy street that is closed off to cars - a street where, everyday, thousands of people roam and linger as they shop. And eat street food.

This collision [of lack of hygiene where there ought be hygiene] speaks not only of the role of the government in providing sufficient access to public bathrooms (there is a serious lacking here), but also the practical education and will of the people.

Any awareness of hygiene is overshadowed by apathy and disregard for one's impact on or the well being of any other living being.

word of advice in china

Watch where you walk and don't step in any puddles.

That puddle probably isn't rain-water, and that dog poo may not be canine.

*Interestingly, the mother (white shoes) pays no attention to her daughter and walks onward. The grandmother (squatting adjacent, right) had no part in helping the girl choose this location. The child chose this spot only as a second choice. Her first choice was the earthen ring surrounding a tree, but she hustled away in confusion when she touched the ground only to realize that it was not dirt, but concrete-set stones.

guilty dinner

My kitchen table is cluttered with the artifacts of my life - Mandarin books, painting supplies, imported chocolate, the days wages in pink Chairman Mao-graced bills, a deck of Yaoji playing cards, an address book.

And dirtied dishes from a hurried lunch, that might have been washed had I hot water in my kitchen.

Amidst the disarray, I set my dinner on the table one bowl at a time, before heading back to the kitchen for the next.

With nowhere to set my chopsticks and for the sake of time, I drive my chopsticks vertically into the rice, headlong, in the very way that someone in China never should.

vertical chopsticks: a big no-no

Standing one’s chopsticks vertically into their rice bowl conjures up images of the long sticks of incense that are burned at the wake of a loved one who has just passed away.

Standing one’s chopsticks vertically into a rice bowl is akin to smearing the name of a loved one.

In the West, it is impolite to play with one’s silverware; in the East it means dishonor.

A foreigner, fresh off the plane and ignorant of local ways, may be forgiven by locals, but will never be understood and will hardly be forgotten.

In my haste to delve into my steaming hot dinner, I thrust the bamboo chopsticks into my rice bowl and head back to the kitchen for the rest. I have done so not out of intentional disrespect, for truthfully, there is no one else within these walls to dishonor.

On this night, I eat alone, in a closed apartment on a quiet residential street of the capital city, with only the hum of an aged Hitachi R-176H refrigerator to keep me company.

I dine alone and so, have only this guilt to share.

the dinner

Sear the Anaheim Peppers: seared and succulent

ingredients: Sear the Anaheim Peppers
oil
garlic
dark soy
black malt vinegar
salt

Smash the Cucumbers: crunchy, savory, fresh

Ingredients: smash the cucumbers

2 asian cucumbers
6 cloves garlic
salt
roasted sesame oil
black malt vinegar

winter melon soup: soothing and refreshing

ingredients: winter melon soup

oil
garlic
sichuan peppercorn
vegetable bouillon
winter melon
salt
water
cilantro