I have always loved cooking. As a bambino in the New York suburbs, I always got a kick out of watching my parents and family members fiddle around in their kitchens. It was revealed to me later in my culinary career that my mom actually learned by trying recipes all her life. Karma and remember the “kochtopf!” Sadly, she never got to see me when I hit the big time on “MasterChef” Season 9 (she would have wept as much as I did when chef Gordon Ramsay gave me the last of 24 aprons to be in the competition).
I still have some of her cookbooks that go back to the 1960s, with recipes people used to use for their block parties – congenial events when my brother and I got to sneak out of bed and grab some half-downed highballs or Manhattans. We got our ears pulled for the effort but it seemed worth it. We never really went for the food, only the booze.
In those days it was chicken croquettes, Welsh rabbit and the ambrosia that festooned the tables of alternating neighborhood soirées. If it weren’t for the current pan-dumb-mic, I would certainly be reviving my Weenie Wednesdays and Hot Dog Thursdays to enamor Wynwood neighbors again, because people have forgotten how to be friendly neighbors – not that homocrapiens (sapiens) are prone to sharing fresh trapped saber-toothed ribs BBQ in the local cave … or rave.
I feel this pandemic isolationism has too many people making more bread than they should NOT be eating. I’m not knocking some of the great starchy innovation I have seen, but given the time involved in the process, why not try the challenging labor of love that is parmigiana?
Parmigiana, also called “parmigiana di melanzane” or “melanzane alla parmigiana,” is an Italian dish made with a shal-low- or deep-fried sliced eggplant filling, layered with cheese and to-mato sauce, then baked. The origin of the dish is claimed by both the Southern regions of Campagna and Sicily.
When my college days arrived, my dear family bought me some Revere Ware pots (still got ’em), a toaster-broiler oven and baking dishes as survival tools; I always had great knives. University of Buffalo had a great food co-op that required one to work there in order to be able to buy its food for pennies on the dollar. Honestly, it was also a great place for meeting very cool chicks that would readily help me make dinner, light a joint and have “dessert.” In college, I learned to be a naughty me using food and comedy to hook it all up. One of my best dishes of devotion was parmigiana, for cooking fun times with eager companions and always good for leftovers on a college budget. Does anyone know of a better cure for the munchies?
The flexibility of the eggplant recipe matured, probably more than I have over the years. My friend Anthony Guardino’s mom (certainly an outstanding Italian cook) gave me a few pointers because she knew how to finesse her Sicilian stuff. “Always add honey to sweeten your tomato sauce.” Another secret was a saltwater soak (I now use anchovy salt) and a watered-milk rinse.
The salting/milk process really sweetens up the eggplant. This sacred knowledge was passed on to the right guy, me. Another Italian chef once advised me to never cut the cheese and always be generous with that final sprinkle of shredded Parmigiano-Reggiano (even though now that curd is more expensive than Chilean sea bass). This dish requires a great deal of time and commitment to detail, but no pain, no gaining enough food to last for several leftover dinners, because this freezes well.
Note to the reader: When I sent a draft of this column to the editor, she said, “Avocado???? You’re mixing avocado with ricotta cheese?” Well the polite answer is experimentation. After years of harassing Instagram posts from some Dr. Gunderplatz about eating healthier and avocados being key, I thought best to try using the marvelously tasty veggie instead of a second egg yolk in the ricotta mix. If you don’t want to try it, fine and dandy, it’s your swollen colon I was trying to please after eating all the ingredients and cheese – lots and lots and lots of cheese. So, here goes …
CHEF SID’S EVOLVED EGGPLANT PARMIGIANA
Prep time: 2 hours, 10 minutes
Serves: 8
Keep dinner guests lubricated with at least one bottle of good Chianti while waiting for this to go down. Probably most will congregate in the kitchen helping, commenting or getting in the way. That’s the cooking biz! Remind these guests of the thousand-year-old story of “The Little Red Hen.” It’s about all those barnyard guests who watched the hen gather ingredients, process ingredients, clean all the cooking utensils and pots and pans, bake, etc., but when it came time to eat, well, remember the story and have those barnyard visitors help clean the dishes while you handle this demanding recipe.
INGREDIENTS
• Virgin olive oil
• 1/2 large red onion, finely chopped
• 6 cloves garlic, crushed
• 2 or 3 leftover tomatoes from the fridge, cut, seeded and finely chopped
• 32-ounce can crushed tomatoes
• A handful of fresh oregano that you must chiffonade (Look it up; it’s part of learning how to cook.)
• 2 tablespoons honey
• Fresh ground black pepper
• 2 teaspoons Kosher salt
• 2 1/2 to 3 pounds firm eggplant, about three hefty purple monsters (It’s cool to ask the grocer to bring out a crate of his freshest ones.)
• 1 tablespoon anchovy salt (’Cause it’s got a sh**load the flavor!)
• 1 1/2 cups milk (The real stuff, not that smarmy oat or almond blend, and no fat-free, either.)
• 6 eggs (At least – use one for binding 1/2 the ricotta cheese and the rest for the dredging process; additional eggs may be needed for that.)
• 2 cups flour
• 1/2 cup seasoned panko bread crumbs
• 32-ounce container whole-milk ricotta cheese (I like the Polly-O brand.)
© SID HOELTZELL – WYNWOOD 2021
The kind of fresh eggplants they bring out from the back, wrapped in paper.
• 1 avocado
• 8-10 ounce chunk of real good Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, freshly shredded before use (This is the most expensive ingredient on the list.)
• 2 large portobello mushroom caps, sliced thin and sautéed in butter, rested and drained of liquids
• 2 pounds whole-milk mozzarella cheese, sliced 1/4″ thick (Publix has a good log made by Wisconsin Cheeseheads.)
PREPARATION
• Sauté onions and garlic in olive oil; once they start to caramelize add seeded chopped tomatoes.
• When “steaming” begins add crushed tomatoes, simmer 20 minutes and remove from heat; stir in chopped oregano and honey to taste as sauce begins to cool. Salt and pepper to taste.
• Transfer sauce to a sieve placed over a bowl to completely cool; this drains off a substantial amount of fluid so the mixture is just very sloppy moist. That drainage makes a great tomato soup for another day when the temperature drops to that cold 55 degrees … OMG.
• Cut eggplant into 1/4″ thick rounds. Place in large steel bowl with enough anchovy saltwater to cover and weigh them down – I use a plate. Let sit for at least 20 minutes; water will turn brownish.
• Rinse clear salinated slices, place in a bowl and cover with a 50/50 water-mi
lk solution for 5 minutes; drain well in a colander until ready to cook.
• Set up your station so that you have a bowl of prepped sliced eggplant, beaten eggs in another bowl, and the flour-panko mixture in another – I like a 75%/25% flour-panko mixture myself – in that order, so your work is easier.
• Dredge the slices in beaten eggs and dust vigorously with flour-panko mixture. Build up a good supply or have a companion doing this while you get ready to fry.
• Sauté eggplant slices in olive oil until crispy golden brown – do not over brown! Let these bambinos rest in a pile and no eating ’em, in spite of the devil on your shoulder who will be urging you to take a nibble. These are like the coolest maduros you’ll ever make.
• Mix half the ricotta cheese with an egg yolk and fresh ground pepper; mix “forked” avocado into the other half and set aside until needed for layering.
• Shred Parmigiano-Reggiano and set aside for layering.
• Sauté portobello mushrooms in olive oil until reduced; drain liquids and set aside.
• Grab a baking dish with at least 4″ of depth and butter the inside well. I also always place a small slathering of sauce on the bottom to start the layering.
• Now the fun begins! Line the bottom of the dish with a layer of eggplant slices; spread on some tomato sauce; carefully drop in spoonfuls of the ricotta-egg mixture; and layer on drained portobello mushrooms.
• On top of that place another layer of eggplant then sauce; spoon on a layer of the ricotta-avocado mixture, followed by layers of eggplant, sauce, mozzarella and a sprinkle of Parmigiano-Reggiano.
• Your final layer is eggplant and a slight “paint down” with some of that extra tomato sauce liquid you were saving as soup.
• Cover completely with the remaining mozzarella slices, then generously sprinkle on more Parmigiano-Reggiano like you mean it. Go big or go home! (Even though you are home; you know what I mean.) Be creative in your layering method, break the rules! But don’t ever cut back on the Parmigiano-Reggiano.
• Bake uncovered at 350°F for 35 minutes, then broil for an additional 3-4 minutes to brown the top layer of cheese.
• Remove from oven; let sit at least 10 minutes before slicing into the final masterpiece and serving those Chianti-filled guests.
• Eat, drink and be merry.
Sid Hoeltzell is an award-winning, Miami-based commercial food and beverage photographer and former “MasterChef” contestant who has completed more than 450 commissioned works for Royal Caribbean Cruise Lines and teaches food photograph seminars. He also is a preferred fine art photographer for Christie’s, Sotheby’s and private collections.