Aubergine

Bizarrely mangled vowels aside, Kiwi English (Nu Zild) generally takes its lead from the Glorious Mother Tongue. So I've never quite understood why, when it comes to fruits and vegetables, it suddenly defers to the American. Now we're not talking pronunciation here - 'tomato' and 'basil' don't acquire an unnecessary ɘɪ sound, and 'herb' mercifully retains its full compliment of letters. We are, however, talking terminology. And it seems to be catching... 

I've happily adopted the mouthwatering persimmon over the distinctly unappetising Sharon fruit (did their garish orange flesh remind someone of an Essex spray tan?) And until a few years ago, if it was green and cock-shaped and it wasn't a cucumber, I would have said without hesitation it was a courgette. Not any longer. The attractively Italianate zucchini has gradually seeped into my vocabulary, where it has become interchangeable with the traditional French term. But the line has to be drawn somewhere, and for me that's firmly in front of eggplant.

©J.E. Fee
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Three_Types_of_Eggplant.jpg

Trust me, I've toyed with it; given it a fair crack of the whip even. But it just doesn't sit right. For starters, there's just nothing egg-like about the bloody things. At least, not the ones we get here, which are generally guinea pig-sized and purple. But secondly, and more importantly, aubergine is just such a seductive word.

For a long time, the look and feel and sound of the aubergine all had far more appeal to me than actually eating one. Like mushrooms, their texture is seemingly something to be acquired. My earliest encounters with them were as salt-sprinkled slices swaddled in paper towels and squeezed between dinner places to extract (what I then believed to be) the poison. These in turn became bland, disconcertingly meaty slabs in watery moussaka. 

© 2012 Recipes that Fit

In fact, I only really came around to the idea of eating aubergine for pleasure a few years ago, when vegetarian American friends conned me into enjoying their well-honed 'eggplant Parmigiana'. All is forgiven. Even the use of the E word itself. You see, in the absence of meat, the aubergine really comes into its own. In fact, I imagine a vegetarian diet would be all the poorer without it. 

Ever since my 'eggplant epiphany', aubergines have been a staple on my shopping list, and I'll generally eat them at least once a week. In fact, so much have I embraced them, that they will often be given the starring role in a dish. That peculiar 'meaty' texture that reviled me as a child has become a worthy substitute for my carnivorous cravings. Likewise, I find that the relative blandness of the flesh becomes a blank canvas on which herbs and spices can shine.

To my mind, there is no better way of showcasing the delights of the aubergine than the famous Turkish dish İmam bayıldı, commonly translated as 'The Fainting Cleric'. There are a number of suggestions as to where this name came from, most of which allude to either its stunning taste or swoon-inducing production cost. My money's definitely on the former - a cup of fine olive oil are more than a fair price to pay for one of the most delectable dishes on Earth. I'm three days in to a 10-day pre-holiday detox now, so there's a high probability that İmam bayıldı will be on the menu in the next few days. There are numerous recipes, all based around the idea of stuffing an aubergine with onion, garlic and fresh tomatoes, drenching it in olive oil and baking it until it goes all gooey. Here's the one I've come up with:

1. Take two fat, purple, un-egglike aubergines and slice them in half lengthways
2. Slit each half down the middle almost all the way through to the skin so you create something boat-like 
3. Fry them on both sides in a little olive oil until they are browned
4. In the same pan, brown up some tinned artichoke hearts (this sure as hell ain't in the the original recipe, but it's a damn good addition)
5. Sprinkle the browned aubergines and artichokes with salt and place in a well-oiled baking dish. Set to one side.
6. Sautee a couple of medium-sized onions in lots of good-quality olive oil, along with pepper and salt, until they go translucent.
7. Chuck in some chopped garlic for the last minute
8. While the onions are sautéing, chop lots of tomatoes into little bits. 
9. Mix in a health handful of chopped dill (or parsley or both - but dill is really the winner here) and some lemon zest
10. Mix the sauteed onions & garlic with the tomatoes and herbs. 
11. Add a bit more olive oil, and pour the lot over the aubergines and artichokes. Add a bit of water to ensure it all stays moist.
12. Cover wil tin foil and bake in the oven at 180c for about 90 mins. It should come out soft and succulent and gorgeous. 

(And if you can get your aubergine slices out in one piece, and not agonise over who has the better deal with the artichokes, you're a better man than I)

Afiyet olsun!