small angles, many patterns

this is the 2nd entry in a new series of Sapporo vignettes: small angles (many patterns).

[photo courtesy of Nat Andreini]

nasu parmesan

Nasu is the Japanese word for eggplant. While on the topic of good food, here is a recipe we have been making quite often, which is a delightful treat in the land of raw fish and rice! It can be served as a main course, over pasta, or as we prefer, with salad and fresh bread.

Eggplant Parmesan

Serves 8 (main course)

Ingredients:

2 1/2 lb medium eggplants (about 3), cut crosswise into 1/3-in-thick-rounds

3 1/4 tsp salt

5 lb plum tomatoes

1 1/2 cups plus 3 tbs olive oil

2 large garlic cloves, finely chopped

20 fresh basil leaves, torn in half

3/4 tsp black pepper

1/4 tsp dried hot pepper flakes

1 cup all-purpose flour

5 large eggs

3 1/2 cups panko (Japanese bread crumbs)

2 oz finely-grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese (roughly 2/3 cup)

1 lb chilled fresh mozzarella, thinly sliced

Toss eggplant with 2 teaspoons salt in a colander set over a bowl, then let drain 30 minutes.

While eggplant drains, cut an X in bottom of each tomato with a sharp paring knife and blanch tomatoes together in a 5-quart pot of boiling water 1 minute. Transfer tomatoes with a slotted spoon to a cutting board and, when cool enough to handle, peel off skin, beginning from scored end, with paring knife.

Coarsely chop tomatoes, then coarsely purée in batches in a blender. Heat 3 tablespoons oil in a 5-quart heavy pot over moderately high heat until hot but not smoking, then add garlic and sauté, stirring, until golden, about 30 seconds. Add tomato purée, basil, 1 teaspoon salt, 1/2 teaspoon pepper, and red pepper flakes and simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until slightly thickened, 25 to 30 minutes.

Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 375°F.

Stir together flour, remaining 1/4 teaspoon salt, and remaining 1/4 teaspoon pepper in a shallow bowl. Lightly beat eggs in a second shallow bowl, then stir together panko and 1/3 cup Parmigiano-Reggiano in a third shallow bowl.

Working with 1 slice at a time, dredge eggplant in flour, shaking off excess, then dip in egg, letting excess drip off, and dredge in panko until evenly coated. Transfer eggplant to sheets of wax paper, arranging slices in 1 layer.

Heat remaining 1 1/2 cups oil in a deep 12-inch nonstick skillet over moderately high heat until hot but not smoking, then fry eggplant 4 slices at a time, turning over once, until golden brown, 5 to 6 minutes per batch. Transfer with tongs to paper towels to drain.

Spread 1 cup tomato sauce in bottom of a rectangular 3 1/2-quart (13- by 11- by 2-inch) baking dish. Arrange about one third of eggplant slices in 1 layer over sauce, overlapping slightly if necessary. Cover eggplant with about one third of remaining sauce (about 11/4 cups) and one third of mozzarella. Continue layering with remaining eggplant, sauce, and mozzarella. Sprinkle top with remaining 1/3 cup Parmigiano-Reggiano.

Bake, uncovered, until cheese is melted and golden and sauce is bubbling, 35 to 40 minutes.

Some notes: Tomato sauce can be made ahead and chilled covered. We also often substitute a mix of canned San Marzano tomatoes, fresh tomatoes and/or pre-made marinara sauce, depending on what is on hand. Fresh basil is nearly impossible to obtain here in Sapporo, so dried basil and oregano will also suffice.

We do not have an oven, so we skip the baking portion and just pop the slices into the toaster oven long enough to warm through and melt the cheese!

giving thanks

In lieu of preparing Thanksgiving dinner here in Japan, where neither Turkey nor the use of an oven is at my disposal, I have been reading a lot about the holiday itself. I didn't know, for example, that the original Thanksgiving was accompanied by a period of fasting, after which a resplendent meal was well-deserved.

Admittedly, Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. I love scheming on recipes, the sense of accomplishment that comes with making an elaborate meal, and the joy that friends and family take in eating good food together. Yet I can't help but be a little torn between appreciation of such an immensely luxurious meal, prepared with care, enjoyed with our most significant others, and a vague sense of indignation at is pure extravagance. For me, these same thoughts often extend to so much of food culture - recipes from Gourmet magazine (R.I.P.), fresh cheese at the farmer's market, heirloom tomatoes. But why? What is remarkable to me, and rather disheartening, is that eating fresh, locally grown, home-cooked (and by their very nature, relatively healthy) meals has gone from being the norm in American culture, to being a so-called bourgeois pursuit.

Certainly, to a girl whose own family has gone from raising pigs and tending a 1/2 acre garden through through the cycle of fast food consumption and back again, the power of bourgeois popularity to bring about cultural sea change cannot be disregarded. After all, at some point, eating a Big Mac was considered rather desirable, even glamorous. Still, it remains unknown whether the food renaissance taking place among the upper class will ultimately change eating habits as a whole, and furthermore, how to define my own role in this predicament.

This opinion piece, from the NYTimes, by the artist and writer Maira Kalman, may oversimplify the problem or it may be naive, as several of the comments point out. But its purpose is more than just negative rhetoric. The humanity it depicts in portraits of farmers, students, and foodies (including lunch with the top of the slow food chain, chef Alice Waters) succeeds in giving me just a little bit more hope. It reminds me that eating well might be in our nature and that nature, like it so often will, may slowly force its way back to the surface, championed by those who can afford to help.

So on this Thanksgiving day week, I am thankful for the students at Martin Luther King Middle School in Berkeley, who are learning how to create food with their own hands and sharing that experience with their families. I am thankful that in Japan, every elementary school has a garden. I am thankful for a President who serves pumpkins grown on the White House lawn at his first state dinner. I am thankful for all those people, like my friends Phoebe Garfinkel and Katie Ries, who organize gleaning tours and study public policy, and work in their own way toward making good food more accessible to all. I am thankful for my parents, who, after all these years, both grow vegetables again. And I am thankful for my own, delicious, food.

Happy Thanksgiving from Sapporo. In place of turkey, here is what we ate:

[soup curry from Legon restaurant]

What's for dinner?

laziness + a limited Japanese repertoire = tonight's menu options:

a. assorted Japanese vegetables - daikon, sprouts, cabbage, enoki - with tofu (again)

b. chana masala in a box, with rice

c. eggplant parmesan, minus tomato sauce and light on the parmesan

c. Kashi Strawberry Fields cereal (shipped from home, courtesy of the Kunkle's)

e. tuna fish sandwiches and grapefruit

hmmm...