Monday, November 9, 2009

Indian Summer Eggplant Lasagnette with Cherry Tomato Sauce

Autumn this year sucked.  It was cold, dreary. Prematurely grey.
But, I was being a good sport. I turned the heat on in the house. I wore my winter jacket outside (sometimes with a scarf).  And I had myself all geared up for cold weather comfort food.

And then, something strange happened. The frosty 36ºF days suddenly became balmy 69ºF days. The sun came out. Woodland creatures crept out of their premature hibernation and began to frolick once again. And a day lily in my garden burst into spontaneous autumn bloom (seriously, folks -- I wish I had taken a picture).

For some reason, it seemed wrong to blog about risotto when I could pull out the stops and hearken back to one of those luscious late summer dishes that makes your head swim with lusciousness.  And so, I changed my mind.

Instead of hauling out the photos of that risotto, I took a mental journey back to those warm September days when the garden was ripe with cherry tomatoes. I thought back to the delicious end-of-summer lasagnette that's become a tradition at our house. Layers of delicious fried eggplant, roasted cherry tomato sauce, tangy goat cheese, salty parmesan, and plenty of Italian parsley. 

Yeah, this was the sort of food I was in the mood for.
Just look at those gorgeous fruits. Succulent. Sweet. Bursting with pure tomato flavor.

On this particular occasion, I took about 4-6 cups of the tomatoes and placed them on a roasting pan in a 425ºF oven with a few nice long sprigs of fresh rosemary.

They sweltered, and burst.  Their sugars caramelized and their juices mingled with the flavors of the rosemary branches.

I sauteed about 2 cups of red bell pepper and about the same amount of onion in olive oil. I added 2 cups of uber flavorful homemade chicken stock, a bay leaf, and all those luscious tomatoes.  And I let the sauce simmer away for about 30-35 minutes. 

Meanwhile, I turned my attention to the eggplant I'd picked up at the farmer's market. And took a sip of the glass of wine Peef poured me while I was making the sauce.


I sliced it thinly, salted it liberally, and then left it to drain for about a 1/2 hour or so; then, I rinsed them briefly and dried them thoroughly.  Now, I know that there are skeptics among you -- skeptics who scoff at salting eggplant. Who claim that eggplants don't NEED to be salted.  And maybe that's true.  But, I'm not into doing extra work if there's no pay off.

In this case, I didn't salt the eggplants because I feared they were bitter; rather, I wanted to draw out some of the moisture from the fruits.  This accomplishes three things:  1) It firms the flesh of the eggplant, which renders them texturally more pleasing for the lasagnette; 2) It adds a bit of flavor to the dense eggplant flesh; and 3) A salted (and dried) eggplant will absorb less oil when fried.

I seasoned some flour with salt, pepper, and garlic, and dredged the eggplant. When every slice was nicely powedered, I shallow fried every last piece of it in olive oil.

A few pieces got snarfed up straight out of the hot pan. But, most of them made it to the paper towels to drain. After all, both Peef and I knew what was coming.

While the eggplant was frying, the sauce was busily transforming itself into something positively fabulous. Peef took our stick blender and gave the sauce a whir to smooth things out a bit. He let it simmer for a little while longer, until everything had reduced and thickened. And then, he pulled everything off of the heat. He added a few tablespoons of chopped fresh oregano, Italian parsley, and fresh basil.  Finally, he stirred in a pat of butter to give everything a bit of extra richness.

Then, the assembly of the lasagnette began.  First a layer of sauce on the bottom of the pan.

Then, layers of eggplant, crumbled fresh goat cheese, chopped parsley, and parmesan cheese.  And repeat. Keep layering until you've used up every last bit of eggplant.  Then, top with bread crumbs and additional parmesan cheese. Bake at 375ºF for about 30 minutes, or until the lasagnette is browned and bubbles slightly along the edges.



Serve up the lasagnette in generous slices with a bit of extra cheese. Maybe a nice salad alongside.

A pan feeds 6-8 easily. Leftovers are amazing. And it freezes beautifully.  In fact, we just ate the last of this batch a couple of weeks ago in the midst of a cold snap. And it was perfect.

Thick Roasted Cherry Tomato Sauce

Creative Commons License
©BURP! Where Food Happens

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Cold Comfort: Root Veggie Stew with Beef

This weekend, we both were able to breathe a sigh of relief.

Sure, there were leaves to rake... and a house to clean... but after all was said and done, we finally found ourselves back in the kitchen. And craving a bit of good old fashioned comfort food.

I have fond memories of coming home from elementary school and being greeted by a warm bowl of succulent stew -- tender beef and chunks of potato and carrots surrounded by a delicious brown sauce flavored with onion and bay leaves.  Mom always ate her stew like soup -- in a bowl, with a spoon. Dad always piled his stew on top of the bread like a big, open-faced sandwich -- slicing through each bite and eating it with a fork.  And me?  Well, I remember eating all the vegetables first so that I could savor the few pieces of stew meat in the bottom of the bowl, and use my bread to sop up the delicious sauce.

Some things never change.
The weather has been sunny, but chilly, here in Wisconsin.  When we ventured out to the farmer's market on Saturday morning we were surprised by the bone-chilling wind that greeted us when we got out of the car.  Wow!  Those farmers are sure dedicated folks!  And we were glad.  Our stash included loads of great stuff -- fresh mustard greens, red kale, end-of-season broccoli, winter squash, Ida Red apples, and rutabaga.  The big question became "What would we make with our loot?"  Well -- stew, of course!

The stew I make these days still resembles the one I grew up with... but I've taken a few liberties with the ingredients. Taking my cue from all the great chefs who remind us that a fantastic dish is contingent upon fantastic ingredients, we start off with a pound of our favorite grass-fed beef. This beef not only tastes better than your average supermarket meat, but it's seriously nourishing.  Among its benefits, grass-fed beef is a great source of vitamin E, omega-3 fatty acids (7 times more than grain fed beef), vitamin C, and beta-carotene. Grass-based farming is also great for the environment (excellent article here at Mother Earth News, if you're interested).  Healthy as it is, we're still judicious with our use of red meat. We use the beef primarily as a flavoring for the stew (rather than as the main event), so we can get away with using only about one pound of meat for 6-8 solid servings.


Another update to our beef stew involves... and you've probably guessed it... BEER!  Yes, indeed.  One of our favorite "stew brews" just happens to be one that's made right here in the Dairy State.  Tyranena "The Devil Made Me Do It" Coffee Imperial Oatmeal Porter.  Dark and sweet with plenty of coffee flavor, this beer really bumps up the flavor quotient in our stew.  And it's mighty nice for drinking on the side too...

And then there are the veggies -- a couple of nice rutabaga, a few delicious carrots, and a handful of Yukon gold potatoes.

We chop the veggies into nice, rustic chunks.  This stew cooks for quite a while in the oven, so we don't want everything turning to mush (anyone have BAD memories of overcooked carrots in their mom's beef stew??... yeah, that's exactly what we want to avoid).

Toss the cubed beef with a quarter cup of flour seasoned with salt & pepper.

And now, the cooking begins.
Brown the stew meat in large, oven-safe pan (a Dutch oven, if you have one).

When everything is nicely browned, remove the meat and saute a couple of sliced onions in the same pan.  When the onions are just about tender, add 8 cloves of chopped garlic and saute briefly.

You'll notice all sorts of delicious browned bits developing as the onions cook.  Feel free to giggle with delight -- all those crusty bits are going to impart some seriously amazing flavor to our stew.

Add a tablespoon of dried thyme to the onions, and stir well. Deglaze the pan with 4 tablespoons of red wine vinegar and a cup or so of the beer. Scrape up those crispy bits as the mixture comes to a boil. They should come off the bottom of the pan surprisingly easily as the vinegar and beer do their thang.


Add the remaining cup of beer, along with 3 cups of good quality beef broth, 2 tablespoons of Dijon style mustard, 2 bay leaves, and 2 tablespoons of brown sugar. Bring the liquid to a boil.  Then add your reserved beef, chopped vegetables and three sprigs of fresh rosemary (if you've got 'em).  When everything is boiling again, you can cover your pot and transfer the stew to a preheated 350º oven.

Check your stew after about an hour and a half.  If the vegetables are tender, you're good to go. If things need a bit more time, you can let it go for another half hour or so.

If the stew seems too thin for your liking, you can remove some of the vegetables and use your choice of methods to thicken the sauce (I like pureeing a few of the vegetables, or adding a roux and simmering it for a bit).  Otherwise, just spoon into bowls and serve.

Now, seriously... where's my chunk of crusty bread?  It's time for dinner!

Recipe:  Root Veggie Stew with Beef


Creative Commons License
©BURP! Where Food Happens