I’ve been thinking a lot about family lately. My husband John and I have seen our kids, grandkids, siblings, nieces, nephews, and various assorted relatives several times so far this year, and it’s been wonderful each and every time. I love seeing them all together and catching glimpses of the genetic resemblances in play throughout the generations.
In the last three years of Saturdays, though, the people we see at the Lansdowne Farmers Market have become like family, too. There’s also a family that exists at the market that we rarely stop to think about, if we even notice them as related at all.
Consider tomatoes, potatoes, peppers, and eggplant. They are strewn throughout the farmer’s market right now, lovely and delicious. They are red, orange, yellow, purple, green, pale yellow, and brick red, and in shapes from round and bulbous to long and slender. And, they’re all related, as members of the same botanical family, named Solanaceae. Tomatoes and potatoes trace their ancestry to the Andean highlands of Peru, while peppers — from hot to sweet — were developed further north, in the Aztec area of Mexico. Eggplants originated halfway around the world in India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Nepal, and Sri Lanka. Three very different fruits and one vegetable, all from the same family.
When I wander down the rows of produce, I think about the possibilities and how these foods have many cultural alliances. Stay in Central America with salsa or travel all the way to Spain for gazpacho, which is really just liquefied salsa with the addition, traditionally, of bread for thickening. Or, venture to Italy or Greece, where the locals have completely adopted the tomato (pasta sauce), red peppers (roasted or pickled as appetizers), eggplant (eggplant parmesan or cinnamon-scented eggplant with tomatoes — see recipe below), and even the potato (how about a Sunday brunch potato frittata flecked with red peppers or lemon-olive oil roasted Greek potatoes at dinner… yummmmm). The Irish and potatoes are so synonymous that John and I were once served three kinds of potatoes at one meal in Ennis, County Clare — mashed, boiled, and french fried. I didn’t complain.
As with some families, there’s a dark side to the family Solanaceae. In the mid-1700s, some people thought tomatoes were poisonous. That seems preposterous today, with so many wonderful ways to eat them. But what if your family name was nightshade, as in deadly nightshade, aka the infamous belladonna? People might think you were poisonous, too. As we all know today, tomatoes, peppers, eggplant, and potatoes are safe, nutritious, and delicious to eat. (The only thing you should avoid is potatoes with green areas. When they are exposed to light, they concentrate the alkaloid Solanine. Don’t eat them. They’ll make you sick. Really sick. Store them in a cool, dry, dark place to keep them safe and cut away any green parts. Really.)
Luckily, people eventually got over their fears of tomatoes and gave in to the lure of the sun-ripened taste that just bursts with umami (aka the “fifth taste”). And, since it’s summer, you can buy the freshest tomatoes, as well as eggplants, potatoes, and peppers in the market. Later in the season, you can explore other families who make our meals delicious, like the Brassicaceae family that includes broccoli, cabbage, cauliflower, kale, and brussels sprouts.
For now, how about laying thick slices of salted tomatoes on homemade white bread with a schmear of mayonnaise or olive oil, and maybe a leaf or two of basil? Why not cook them down to a pasta sauce or chop them up for a salsa or for topping garlic-rubbed Italian bread toast? Or, cook seeded and skinned tomatoes with onions, celery, garlic, and dill, toss it all in a blender with a cup of cooked macaroni, and puree to create a heavenly tomato soup that’s delicious served hot or cold.
Don’t ignore the other cousins. Try making a potato salad with cooked green beans, fresh-cut herbs, sliced green onions, and vinaigrette dressing, instead of mayonnaise. Or, whip up the Middle Eastern eggplant dip called baba ganoush. There are so many different possibilities.
In tribute to two members of the Solanaceae family, here is a recipe that unites cousins from opposite sides of the world.
Cinnamon-Scented Eggplant with Tomatoes
This recipe was inspired by a dish called Imam Baildi. When John and I had it at a Greek restaurant, the waiter said the name meant “bald priest.” That could have been apocryphal or I may be misremembering, because I haven’t been able to find any translations online, but I did find that it’s based on a Turkish dish, which makes sense because of the cinnamon.
1.) Coat the bottom of a large sauté pan with olive oil. Add two or three thickly sliced garlic cloves and cook them gently until they are soft. Remove and set aside for now.
2.) Meanwhile, cut an eggplant in large cubes and toss with about a half-teaspoon or less of kosher or coarse salt, and, working in two or three batches, spread the eggplant on a paper towel-lined plate and microwave for about 8 minutes each batch, until the eggplant shrinks and dries out a bit. (A trick I learned from Cook’s Illustrated magazine a few years back. It’s easier than salting and draining and waiting and rinsing, and it still removes some of the bitterness from the eggplant’s tiny seeds.)
3.) When all the eggplant has been microwaved, toss into the garlic-scented hot oil and stir to coat. Sauté until the sides of the pieces get a bit brown and toasty. (Watch the amount of oil; the eggplant will absorb a lot if it’s not dried out enough, but you don’t want to run out of oil because it will burn, so add it if necessary. If you end up with a dish that’s oilier than you like, just drain it after it sits for a bit. The leftover oil would make a nice marinade for veggies on the grill… okay, I won’t digress. Back to the recipe.)
4.) Chop up a large tomato and toss in with the eggplant; re-add the cooked garlic. Cover and gently simmer for about 20 minutes or more until the eggplant is soft.
5.) To finish, I shake a bit of ground cinnamon on top and stir. If you want, dribble in a few tablespoons of red wine, or not. Add more salt and pepper to taste. You’ll know when the whole thing is done when the eggplant tastes buttery and like it’s melting into the tomatoes. Serve hot, cold, or warm with slices of bread or as a side dish. It tastes even better if you let it sit in the fridge for a day.
Note: You don’t have to limit yourself to just these ingredients. You can also add fire-roasted red peppers, onions, or other inspirations. This is a stove-top version, but the original was oven roasted. In the fall when the weather cools down, consider roasting the sliced eggplant and veggies in the oven in a covered dish. The house smells wonderful.
About the Author:
Maura C. Ciccarelli has been a writer for as long as she can remember. Serious cooking came later, when she was in her 20s and decided it was easier and tastier to make her own macaroni and cheese and tomato sauce. To make a living, she studied journalism at Temple University and is currently a writer and marketing communications consultant with specialties in business, nonprofits, and education. She’s written thousands of articles during her career, as well as four and a half novels (as yet unpublished, but hope springs eternal). Her professional work has appeared in the Philadelphia Inquirer, Business Philadelphia Magazine, Human Resources Executive Magazine, Risk & Insurance Magazine, and many others. She adores her family and her husband, photographer John Kelly Green (aka, the Lansdowne Farmers Market photographer), as well as cooking, creative explorations, art, science, history, mysteries, photography, design, and connections. (Read her blog post about delving into her family’s genetic heritage here.)
Read more from her at http://mauracicc.blogspot.com or follow her at http://www.twitter.com/mccicc. You can connect with her on Linked In.
