You Use It Every Day. But Can You Make It Cook? – New York Times

Recipe I am having for dinner. Well worth it.

You Use It Every Day. But Can You Make It Cook? – New York Times

If I had one single outstanding revelation, one that might change the way I cook, it was after I started messing with eggplant. One reader, Roopa Kalyanaraman — who produces her own cooking blog (www.raspberryeggplant.blogspot.com), and it’s a good one — steered me to the spicy eggplant recipe I’ve adapted here. The timing was forgiving, the recipe was easy enough, and the texture of the eggplant was mind-blowingly good, soft and not at all oily or soggy. Like steaming, but better.

I started playing, and gained some confidence. I pierced an eggplant all over and nuked it for about seven minutes, until it collapsed. While it was cooling, I gently nuked half an onion, a couple of poblanos (they collapsed too, as I’d hoped), and a couple of cloves of garlic. I peeled the eggplant, chopped it along with the onion, chilies and garlic, and tossed them with the lemon juice, a little cumin and salt: a credible eggplant salad, in short order.

Comments

11 responses to “You Use It Every Day. But Can You Make It Cook? – New York Times”

  1. Mandy

    When is it aubergine rather than eggplant – or is it just to save worry about spelling aubergine? And what’s a poblano(s)*.

    And when did the fish in British waters have a name change from “skate” to “ray”? (Waitrose now sell ray – not skate)

    Why don’t we have “Marathon” bars any more – they’re now “Snickers”? Opal Fruits are now Starburst.

    Come on Al, you’re English, aren’t you? It’s an aubergine, isn’t it?

    * Have looked poblano up on the web and you’ll be pleased to know that somebody says it’s a mild chile (I’m assuming he means a mild chilli – not a mild version of a South American country).

  2. Weez

    Ahh, yes, ‘aubergine.’ I’m sure it’s in the Anglo Saxon dictionary somewhere . . . probably between at-ýwan and a-uht.

  3. Mandy: It’s eggplant down here in Australia too, and zucchini rather than courgette (the latter reflecting the large Italian population here).

    Weez: It’s from French, not Anglo-Saxon.

  4. Weez

    Got it, Chris, it was a JOKE! I was phunning my sister, whom I love dearly but who wants to turn herself into a one-woman L’Academie Anglaise, it seems. (You probably don’t want to be in the middle of this . . . ).

    If we want to be truly global-minded and politically correct (and who doesn’t always want to be both of those things these days?) we should apparently all be calling it ‘vatinganah’, meaning (Sanskrit) ‘fart, go away,’ because of its reputed power to control flatulence. This word seems to have been bastardized into a Spanish form, and then, when the Moors conquered Spain, to have been turned into the Arabic al-badhinjan. When borrowed back into Catalan, it became ‘alberginia,’ and thence into French as ‘aubergine.’

    Somewhere in time (the 1600’s, perhaps) English traders ‘discovered’ it in North Africa, brought it back with them, and called it “Guinea Squash.” Why they called it Guinea Squash when they found it in North Africa, I am not quite clear; perhaps that’s how much it cost, or perhaps, like Flanders and Swann’s description of stamps, they knew that there were only two kinds of countries–English ones, all nice and orderly at the front, and ‘foreign ones,’ all mixed up at the back–so it didn’t matter what you called them.

    Anyway, somewhere in the 18th century the term “Guinea Squash” went the way of the English words for most dinner items after the Norman conquest, and it became known as the considerably more snooty and upmarket ‘aubergine,’ stolen from the French.

    A history and series of derivations of the word which make me even more determined not to use it.

    However, since ‘fart’ really does appear to have its roots in Anglo-Saxon (‘feortan’), and ‘leave’ similarly (laefan), I’m up for some sort of portmanteau word that combines them into an alternative to the dreaded ‘eggplant.’

    But this leads me to further musing–if the Sanskrit ‘vatinganah’ really does mean ‘fart, go away’ and one can assume (can one?) that the ‘fart’ part of that is represented as ‘vat,’ and ‘fart’ is also widely believed to have derived from the root of the Anglo-Saxon ‘feortan,’ is ‘fart, vat, feort,’ one of those uber-words that goes back so far into language history that it precedes the formation of the known language families? I can’t remember what this is called, but at one point I think I knew that the root words for ‘oats’ and ‘barn’ were so old that they are virtually the same, no matter what language you are looking at.

    Hmm, something else for Muffetts to argue over at the dinner table . . . good.

    PS—If Frank is given enough to drink, he may be able to recall his masterly dissertation one night, in which he was able to derive the modern English word ‘handkerchief’ from the original Middle English ‘snot rag,’ by following all the etymological rules and including all the appropriate historical and cultural notations. Not to be missed.

  5. Mandy

    Tee Hee. I do look forward to pouring enough fire water down Frank’s throat to get him to tell us about snot rags!

    Must say it’s not so much a desire to be a “one-woman L’Academie Anglaise”, but more a desire to recognise that we’re not the 51st state. It sticks in my craw that when configuring a PC (admittedly with Microsoft software – which will send my dear brother off on another tangent altogether) I have to choose “English (United Kingdom)”. Excuse me, whose bloody English is it anyway!

    And, not getting personal, but it’s no great surprise the Americans call it eggplant rather than the French aubergine. Wasn’t it George W. who asked if the French have a word for entrepreneur!

    And furthermore, on the subject of farting and the middle-east, you’ll, I’m sure, be interested to know that our veggie box supplier refer to their Jerusalem artichokes as farty-chokes because of their potent after effects. Perhaps one should ensure that the Jerusalem artichoke is served with a healthy dollop of aubergine!

  6. Weez

    Well, I think we have the makings of a new Wallace and Gromit flick in here somewhere. Plot line, anyone?

    It’s a good yarn, and perhaps it’s true, but the Internet abounds with accounts of how ironic it is that the word ‘entrepreneur’ is French when the French are, in fact, so hostile to the concept. It is just as likely, I think, to be a case of ‘from the mouths of babes. . .”

    I suppose that it is always possible that the interpretation of the Sanskrit word for EGGPLANT as ‘fart go away’ may have been misconstrued. I am reminded of a bottle of pills on my shelf at work which proclaim in large red letters that they are “Bitch Pills.” They are in fact vitamin supplements for lactating female dogs. But it is so much fun to watch people’s faces when they see them, and then point out that I haven’t figured out yet if they cure the condition, or if they turn me into one, so watch out!

    On another note, how reassuring it is, that with the recent diminishment of the family ranks, the next generation is so readily picking up the torch for pointless and spirited debate. I am sure that David Muffett is applauding from the wings. Hats off to you, Dad!

  7. Clive Semmens

    In Hindi, it’s Baigan – pronounced not exactly like bygone, but close enough to let me make my wife (native Hindi speaker) laugh by saying one should let baigans be baigans.

    That is for real.

    This is merely one of a rich vein of bilingual punning opportunities.

  8. Sadly the GWB gag about the French not having a word for entrepreneur appears to be false. 🙁

    http://www.snopes.com/quotes/bush.asp

    He might have thought it though.. 🙂

  9. Mandy

    Oh, No. Now you’ve really done it! I’m off again…

    It is alleged that Wallace and Gromit’s film “The Great Vegetable Plot” had to be renamed because of the fear that the Yankees wouldn’t ‘get it’, so we ended up with “The Curse of the Were-Rabbit”.

    But we should be thankful that no coriander was required in that film so we won’t have to suffer the great cilantro debate!

  10. Weez

    As Ronald (Mugsy) Reagan once famously said, “There you go again.” It wasn’t good enough when the Americans made up their own, original name for something—EGGPLANT. Now it’s not good enough when they use the Spanish word (CILANTRO) to describe the leaves of the Coriander plant. I give up (NOT).

    Of course, you prefer the French word (CORIANDER) to describe both the leaves and the seed (unless you’ve come up with your own name for the seeds? If so, do tell!)

    What I find interesting is that the French, apparently, call this thing we are discussing “Chinese Parsley” as if their own word for it wasn’t good enough. Go figure.

    As for the great Cilantro/Coriander debate, you’re too late: http://www.megnut.com/2006/05/the-great-cilantro-coriander-debate.

    And there’s a fight about the name for the new W&G film too. Too bad they have to worry about US distribution, I suppose that’s how they cover their expenses and perhaps even make some money . . .

  11. Mandy

    Celery seed, poppy seed, caraway seed, sesame seed, coriander seed, see(d) ’tis easy!

    P.S. I don’t mind what the Americans call an aubergine – they can call it what they like. But in England it’s an aubergine. What I do object to is the creeping use of American words and traditions in the UK. Too much Bart Simpson and Friends mean that kids here are starting to Trick or Treat (but not at my house!). I don’ t know about “Penny for the Guy”, I’d be pleased to pay twenty quid if some children took the time and made the effort to make their own Guy. And you can’t move in card shops during October for all the Halloween crap. And don’t get me on grandmothers’ day, secretaries’ day, orthodontists’ day (I made that one up). I shall seriously consider torching the first card shop I find selling Thanksgiving cards or 4th of July cards! Come the revolution…. (and I mean ours!)

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