Melanzane in Umido
I've had this recipe a million times growing up, and it's one of the things I cook most often, but I really struggled when I was writing this introduction. I love this dish. The eggplant is rich and soft and caramelized from an hour of cooking until it's just starting to fall apart, not to mention it's a dream of a vegetarian dish served over pasta. But I wanted to dig in a little more, give it a little context and history. I spent hours hunting for a recipe that matched this one so I could start tracing it backwards but couldn't find one, not in my Italian cookbooks or even online. I only knew what mom told me, this was how her grandmother made eggplant, serving it alongside a piece of roasted meat or polpettone (Italian meatloaf, or, roughly translated, giant meatball) and so she, in turn, made it the same way. It's close to Melanzane Uso Funghi, in which funghi does not refer to actual mushrooms but instead how the eggplant is seasoned and cooked, but the herbs are different. I can’t ask Nonna why she made this with parsley instead of basil or mint, or why she doesn't fry the eggplant first like some of the other recipes I've found. I like this recipe enough that I'm tempted to jump in a car on a hot dusty Italian summer day and drive, rest stop to trattoria, through the sleepy towns around the region looking for it's twin. My guess is that from caponata in Sicily up to Bologna, eggplant stewed in olive oil exists, and that the other ingredients, herbs, flavors morph based on whatever someone's Nonna grew in their garden. Maybe that's too romantic, but history aside, I like our version, and I think you will too.
The eggplant is the only nightshade that was domesticated in the old world, coming to Europe via India, well before the tomato. My favorite (but probably not true) theory on how the melanzana, as it's called in Italy, got it’s name is that it came from mala insana, or the apple of madness in Latin. It did actually have a reputation for inducing insanity around Europe for many years, an outcast among vegetables. Eventually, like swimming right after eating, tall-tales fade and the smoky, earthy, tasty eggplant won.
You can serve this, as Nonna did, as a side to any meat or fish. Since nonna was wary of any pasta that wasn’t sfoglia (fresh egg pasta), it was only when Mom started making this did it evolve into it's other uses; my favorite of which is tossed with penne, but it's also nice spread on sandwiches or crostini, or really just eaten with a spoon, cold and directly from the fridge.
SERVING DETAILS
4-5 Servings
INGREDIENTS
- 1 large bunch of parsley
- 4 garlic cloves
- 2 medium eggplants, peeled and diced into 1 inch centimeters **the larger eggplants, with lots of seeds, tend to be a little bitter. I look for medium eggplants, and if I cut into them, and they are overly “fluffy” (mom’s word not mine) with tons of strings of seeds, I’ll pull a little of the middle out.**
- 1 can of whole peeled Roma tomatoes
- Olive oil, salt, red pepper flakes
METHOD
- Mince the parsley, garlic and a large pinch of salt together, until both parsley and garlic are finely minced.
- Heat a large heavy-bottom skillet over med-low heat and add 4 tablespoons of olive oil.
- Add the parsley and garlic mixture to the oil and allow to simmer at low heat for about 1.5 minutes, scenting the olive oil and softening the garlic.
- Add the eggplant, a large pinch of salt and stir a lot, fully coating the eggplant with the parsley and garlic oil. The eggplant should absorb all the oil pretty quickly.
- Allow to simmer for 3 minutes or so, until the eggplant starts to “give back the oil” as Mom says. You’ll see it starting to reappear at the bottom of the pan.
- Add the tomato and half a can of water, another pinch of salt and a pinch of red pepper flakes
- Simmer for about 1 hour at med-low heat, until dark red in color, and the oil is pooling around the edges, stirring frequently. The eggplant will half dissolve and half stay intact. The water should reduce down, but if it starts to stick too much at the bottom while cooking, you can add another half can of water halfway through the cooking process to loosen it up again and prevent burning.
- Serve tossed with pasta, on pizza or foccacia, spread in a sandwich or as a side to any meat or fish.
