Eggplant parmesan, a thank you, and a great book to read with kids (or without them)

A dear friend is moving soon, and last week I had the good fortune to get to host a going-away dinner for her. Word on the street was that her favorite meal is eggplant parmesan. I like eggplant parm, but A) have not made it in years, and B) often find it bland, watery, and underwhelming all around.

To avoid those pitfalls and ensure a gold-medal casserole, I crowd-sourced beloved recipes and tips from some of my most trusted foodie friends, and then came up with my own recipe. Wendy suggested baking the eggplant rather than frying it, a method she came across in a Food52 recipe written by Nancy Jo. Great tip as eggplant is the greediest olive oil sponge in the world, and I hate oily dishes.

Suzanne uses ricotta in addition to mozzarella and parmesan, and as I both love ricotta and am always happy to make yet another pot of it, I went with her advice to use it. I also decided to use panko for some extra texture and depth.

The tomato sauce recipe is my own, one that I've been tinkering with and perfecting over the years. I think it's sublime. So, here's the recipe, Eggplant Parmesan, and here are some pictures to whet your appetite. Included in the headnote are tips about using male eggplants as they are less bitter.

I must also take this time to thank you all for the outpouring of enthused support for my last post, When you've got a siphon but needs a bellows. It's always so heartening to hear that my words resonate with you.

And lastly, if you have kids, nieces/nephews, children you mentor/babysit/work with/love, 8 years and up, I implore you to read the profound book, Wonder, with them. Heck, if you have no children in your life, I still implore you to read Wonder. Written by R.J. Palacio, Wonder topped the New York Times book list, has won a host of awards, inspired the Choose Kind movement, and is soon to be a motion picture in wide release.

It is a fictional story of a 10-year-old boy, August Pullman, who was born with a craniofacial deformity. When we meet August, he has undergone dozens of reconstructive surgeries but still looks very different. His mother has home-schooled him until now, but we soon learn that he'll be entering fifth grade at a mainstream private school in the near future.

Oliver and I are reading it for his book club, and we have enjoyed and hung on every page. It has offered more than a few opportunities for deep discussion about kindness, people's insides versus their outsides, bullying, justice, anxiety, shame, and love. It is a very, very dear story that's not sugar-coated or superficial. It is both tough and uplifting. We both found ourselves in tears this morning in one particularly moving scene. Ol has never before cried in a book and seemed nervous about doing so.

"Bug, I have cried in so many books over the years. That's when you know a story is a really good one that will always stick with you; when even if it's fiction you love and care for the characters. You hurt for their losses and cheer their successes and root against the bully and hope kindness and justice prevail. What you're feeling is the impact of a great book. Lucky us."

Lovely involtini

Y'all, it is pouring brickbats here today. I don't mind at all because we really need the rain and I needed to film a tomato canning video anyway (I'm midway through, will then edit and post; fun!). But, our new roof sprung two leaks which is really damn annoying, and you can be sure I've already let the company know to come fix things ASAP. Sheesh. But, to last night's dinner, aka Eggplant Involtini. Involtini is an Italian word which simply refers to one food wrapped around another. The wrapper can be a thinly-sliced vegetable, like eggplant or zucchini, or meat, such as beef or pork. The filling is often a cheesecentric one with other goodies blended throughout.

To work with vegetable wrappers, you usually need to cook them a bit first. Last night, I sliced the eggplants lengthwise into quarter-inch slabs, laid them onto paper towels and then salted them so they could exude excess water. Afterwards, I patted them dry, brushed them with olive oil and then lightly fried them on both sides until just softened.

Meanwhile, I whipped together a filling of ricotta and feta cheeses, salt, a bit of olive oil, toasted pine nuts and generous, equal portions of chopped mint and parsley.

I spooned a teaspoon or two of filling onto one end of each eggplant slab, rolled the eggplant up like a jelly roll and tucked them, one by one, into a 9x13 baking dish.

A few hours before all this, I made a homemade tomato sauce by stewing together chopped Roma tomatoes, olive oil, minced garlic, a dried peperoncino (small hot chile) and salt. Once my baking dish was full of involtini, I laid the few remaining eggplant slices on top, spooned tomato sauce generously over the whole dish, grated Pecorino generously over that and baked until bubbly, about twenty minutes in a 375° F oven.

Both the eggplant and parsley were from M's garden, the tomatoes from A's farm and boy did this come together nicely; the dish tasted so unbelievably fresh.

Earlier, I made raspberry-lemon jam with the berries I picked last Friday. Unreal. Wow! Incredible! Today, in addition to the tutorial, I made another batch of roasted tomato jam. That biz is awesome.

Holy Melanzane

Ok, not an exact rhyme, but what rhymes with eggplant? Melanzane has much more going for it as a word. Meh-lahn-zahn-ay. So much prettier than egg-plant. Melanzane lilts, it rolls and sings somewhat seductively. Egg-plant makes me think of the sound that must be made when a large elephant sits down. Why am I going on about eggplant? Well, because friend M is away and asked if I would "do her the favor of eating from her garden." Um, yes! She and her fam have an incredibly productive plot that's smaller than my dining room table. I mean, talk about super-farmers. Their microfarm has tidy rows that maintain their cute little mounds as plants thrive like Jack's bean stalk. It's unreal.

M said there might be a few eggplant ready by today and also the herbs need pruning. Good god, people, look at this! We're having eggplant involtini tonight with homemade tomato sauce from friend A's tub o' toms. I also swiped a handful of sage as well as some basil to make plum-basil jam today. I am thanking the goddess of fruit that the peaches I picked on Friday are not yet quite ripe enough to deal with. Whew. I overpicked to a slight degree. Mercifully, the raspberries have thus far been happy in the fridge. Today I'll put them up too!

Look what I made for dinner last night. Apparently bucatini with fresh tomato sauce is the only pasta I can successfully make with regularity. So, again, but who's complaining!?

I am still high as a kite re: Benedict. This morning, Jack asked, "Just why do you think Benedict so much, Mom? I mean, you're the greatest mom ever but why?" I blushed and had no real answer. Think I stammered something like, "Well, you'll really like and admire people too as you grow. And also he's so cute." And I then ran out of the kitchen. So embarrassing.