Cooking dinner all day long

 

It didn’t really take all day, but cooking Eggplant Parmesan took up much of my day. I had invited Teddy and Sue for dinner and promised to cook it because Teddy’s favorite food is apparently eggplant. So this morning, knowing I was between projects, I planned to spend the morning cooking. I read my emails, took a quick look at comments on Facebook, and was ready to roll.

When I cook what Jordan calls casserole dishes, the worst part to me is the chopping. So I did it in order of hardest to easiest—chopped and sauteed the onion. The recipe said for each thing, “In another skillet ….” How many skillets do they think I have? I cooked one thing, dumped it into a bowl, cooked the next, dumped it into the same bowl, and moved on. So I got to a point where I had onion and ground beef cooked and in the bowl. I added breadcrumbs, pecorino cheese, tomato sauce, egg—and then tackled the eggplant. Halved the two eggplants Sue had brought me and found, to my dismay, that both were—I don’t know—not right. Eggplant discolors quickly when cut, but these were discolored form the getgo. Teddy brought me two new ones.

It’s not easy to scoop the insides out of an eggplant half, but I did it, using the cross hatch method my girls have taught me for scooping out avocados. The recipe said to boil the diced eggplant, but my note on it said sauté, so I did. By early afternoon, I finally had four stuffed eggplant halves. I took a nap. One thing about this dish is the lovely presentation—so of course I forgot to take a picture.

We had a fine dinner, and they seemed to like the eggplant. And we had long discussions, ranging from relatives and friends to politics. Sue insists trump will be president in 2024 because Republicans will vote their pocketbooks. I insist that he may be indicted by then, and whether he is or not, enough Americans, even Republicans, have the good sense not to vote for him. His presidency was a disaster for everyone but the one percent—and those who are brainwashed by disinformation.

Those are the folks that worry me—the ones who believe every conspiracy theory that comes down the road. They still think Hilary Clinton was operating a pedophile ring out of a pizza parlor, Joe Biden is responsible for everything from supply chain problems to the shortage of baby formula, Democrats are replacing whites with people of color as a path to power (can you believe anyone believes that?). I am particularly angry with those who claim that Biden is senile—everything he has done and accomplished, from stopping the pandemic deaths to orchestrating international support for Ukraine, argues that he is a man in full command of an incredible mind. His style is certainly different from trump—he goes quietly along, often with his head slightly down, doing what he thinks is right and not bothering about ratings and the like. I have felt the sincerity of his words several times, most recently at the memorial to the victims of the Buffalo shooting.

I just don’t believe that Americans will vote again for the man who unleashed that much hate on America, a man who is now supporting Putin and criticizing US support for Ukraine—he never was able to think beyond the immediate moment to the consequences, in this case of Russia rolling over all of Europe. Yes, he has followers, but their numbers are not overwhelming when compared to the citizens of this country. And those Republican pocketbooks—really, how many will vote that way?

I didn’t start out to proselytize, but now I find I have backed myself into a corner, but it’s a corner I’m comfortable in: Vote blue at all levels. The future of this country, the future of women depends on it.

Sorry. I didn’t mean to rant. But politics engages so much of my mind these days. It’s either politics or cooking with me, unless you want to hear more about the writing process, which also fills my days.

The Alter kids step out on the town—and some thoughts on eggplant

 

Lisa and Colin
date night

Jordan and Christian
American Cancer Society dinner

Megan in her new boots
No idea where she was going,
but she's ready for some dancing!

While my children were gallivanting, I was home with guests and an appetizer behind which there was a story. I had invited Teddy and Sue for dinner tonight. Teddy, is perhaps the only person I know who is really crazy about eggplant, so I promised to fix him my special Eggplant Parmesan—with the meat/cheese/tomato/eggplant mixture stuffed back into the eggplant shells. It’s showy and, in my opinion, delicious. We’d been talking about this a while, and I was looking forward to making it happen.

Yesterday, Jordan came home from the grocery with four tiny, baby eggplants, each about two fingers wide and about six inches in length. I fumed, I fussed—there was no way to stuff them, and they wouldn’t produce enough substance to adequately flavor the filling. I emailed, rescheduling the Parmesan dish but inviting them for happy hour and promising a nibble. Then is occurred to me that someone somewhere must cook with these tiny things, so I went online searching and came across directions for roasting, with an aside that you could scoop the meat out and serve like hummus or butter.

Following the directions I split the eggplants, salted them, drained them, rinsed them. Then brushed them with oil and roasted them, face down in the pan. Let them cool, scraped out the meat (not easy), added thyme, oregano, salt and pepper, and olive oil. And ended up with a lumpy mixture impossible to spread. So I hauled out my small food processor and gave it a whirl. Results: a spread I thought was okay, Sue said was good, and Teddy loved. I sent it home with him. I probably never will do all that again, but I’ll gladly give Teddy the recipe.

Several people told me this was a supply chain problem, and many shelves are bare at the stores. When I hear supply chain I think cargo ship, but realistically I suppose it has to do with the shortage of truck drivers. Toilet paper shortages or such I can see, but eggplant?

We touched on the subject of Coach Gary Patterson—I was wearing my TCU Friday purple—and Sue not unexpectedly agreed that he has really turned TCU and Fort Worth around, but she was philosophical about money talks, and it’s the way of the world, and twenty years is a long time for a coach. I remain indignant about the lack of respect and gratitude shown Coach P. by TCU, and it occurred to me that what the world needs is a lot less blasé acceptance of “the way things are” and a lot more righteous indignation. I for one will continue to fight for honesty, dignity, and openness in politics and schools and, yes, football, even though I never even watch a game.