Memories of a Sandwich - Avocado

Years ago, I went to San Fransisco with my sister. I'm sure the photos are in a box somewhere and if I were to look at them, I'd see us in the Japanese Tea House, us at the pier, us in a cable car and then buying shoes. I can remember all of these things. I also remember the avocado sandwich. Some sandwich bar in a surfer town north of San Fransisco had avocado sandwiches on their chalk-board menu. We ordered them. I loved mine, my sister got sick, presumably from hers. Niether of us will forget those sandwiches - I because it was the first time I had heard of the clever idea of an avocado and a sandwich all in one. My sister won't forget it because she got sick & I constantly remind her of it. To this day, she seems fears avocadoes in bread.

Today, I'm working from home. The train line was shut down this morning due to a medical emergency. Although I was annoyed, I resisted the urge to scramble for an alternate route to work, which would have taken over 1 hour and resulted in me being fed up before I even look at my emails. Instead, I walked back home, told my boss & my coworkers where I was, and I knew that I'd finally get rid of the avocado on my counter.

Avocado Sandwich
2 slices of rich 4-grain bread
1/2 avocado, sliced
1 Tbsp tomato spread (bruschetta spread)
2 small tomatoes, sliced
4 slices of grilled eggplant
1 Tbsp feta
1/2 Tbsp mayonnaise

Mix mayonnaise and feta. Set aside. Spread bruschetta spread on 1 slice of bread. Place avocado slices on top. Layer eggplant on avocado. Place tomato slices on top. On the other slice of bread, spread the feta-mayonaise. Place lid on sandwich & slice.

This wasn't a Proust-like moment. The taste of this sandwich did not transport me back to Northern California. But it reminded me of my sister's Achilles heel and it made me laugh.

Eggplant for the Eggplant Hater

The worst part of dating has to be the moment when you realize that your new beau is not as perfect as you thought he was. He is, in fact, human. He has wonderful characteristics, certainly, but he also has flaws. For a lover of eggplant, it is hard to believe - to honestly internalize - that my partner won't touch the stuff.

This is the premise of a long, long quest to have Workaholic enjoy an aubergine. Grilled: no. Caponata: no. Anything baked: no. Fried: no, thanks. Curries: it's a great sauce. The two dishes he will eat are: baba ganoush & my mom's eggplant choka. He claims that the consistency is the problem. Both baba ganoush & eggplant choka are kinda squishy. There's got to be something else. It dawned on me: eggplants are bitter. In spite of salting & draining my eggplant, they are bitter - unless I draw out the bitterness after roasting by squeezing out the water. My local farm has sicilian eggplants - rounder, brighter, cuter than the ubiquitous Black Beauty variety. Salting these is the key.


Eggplant for the Eggplant Hater
2 sicilian eggplant
salt
panko (ca. 3/4 cup)
cooking spray, or olive oil to brush on
1/2 tsp minced garlic
1/2 tsp minced ginger
2 Tbsp sodium reduced soy sauce
2 Tbsp oyster sauce
1/4 c water
1 tsp sesame oil
chopped cilantro to garnish (optional)

Slice eggplant into rounds, sprinkle with salt. Allow to sit for ca. 20 minutes, then turn & repeat the process. Afterwards, rinse to remove salt & extracted liquid.

Spray rounds with cooking oil, or brush on olive oil. Coat generously in panko. Broil in oven for 10 minutes, or until brown, turning once.

In the meantime, in a small saucepan, warm garlic & ginger. Add soy, oyster sauce & water. Allow to reduce until it is a thick syrup. Add sesame oil.

Remove eggplant from oven. Serve with sauce & chopped cilantro as garnish.

As a huge fan of eggplant, I always thought it would be perfect to share this - like everything else in life - with my partner. Then I turned back to the stove to finish off the rest of dinner & found my eggplant gone. I thought it was safe with the eggplant hater. I guess there's benefits to keeping things to yourself, after all.

Don't Tell My Mom I Miss Her!

A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to visit the family. It wasn't under the best of circumstances, but it made me realize how long it's been since I've seen my extended family and how far away I am from everything I grew up with. There wasn't the same food that normally waits for me, but I was only home for a few days. As luck would have it, on the flight back to Germany, I met a woman who comes from a neighbouring island of my parent's home. We chatted and discovered that we had much in common. She asked me if I cooked traditional Caribbean food, and I said, I try. Do you cook eggplant choka, she asked, to which I said Yes.

It isn't really true. I don't cook eggplant choka. I try to cook it and I don't get it right. I eat it when my mom makes it, when she leaves it unattended on the stove for a few minutes, only for it to be half-gone by the time she returns. And me, of course, I have an unusual lack of appetite. My mom never says a thing, and I think she's come to some bizarre recipe calculation of how much she has to make so there's enough left for dinner.

This evening, I thought of the woman in the plane & I thought of my mom & I realized I really wanted eggplant choka. I called my mom and she walked me through as I made my snack. It was simmilar, but 1) I didn't listen to my mom & I added too much tomato and 2) it's just not the same if I'm legitmately allowed to eat it before dinner.

Eggplant Choka
1 medium eggplant, roasted
olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
2 plum tomatoes, chopped
pinch cumin
salt & pepper to taste

Slice eggplant open, extract seeds, press out water.

Sautee onions & garlic in olive oil until translucent.

Add tomatoes & cumin and continue cooking over med-low heat until tomatoes fall apart.

Add eggplant and cook until warmed through.

Salt & pepper to taste.

Serve warm, ideally with roti (West-Indian flatbread) or just eat from the stove. It's a snack before dinner, which feels like being at home, but moreover, it was a good chance to talk with my mom.