I've always felt an affinity for Greek culture, both in terms of its food and philosophy. I love its mix of the practical -- Seneca founded Stoicism, that pre-eminent Midwestern virtue of controlling one's emotions to find universal truth, in Athens in 3rd century B.C. -- with the excessive -- Spartan king Menelaus started the Trojan War over some chick, Helen of Troy, who was stolen by studly suitor Paris.
The most excessively annoying part of making moussaka is preparing the eggplant. You have to season and sizzle 1/2-inch slices cut from three specimens. With about 20 slices, only two or three of which would fit into my skillet at once, this step was time-consuming. The recipe did not state or imply the length of this task; perhaps Greeks have excessively large skillets that can hold more slices than mine.
With the eggplant prepped, you can move onto the other part of the filling, which includes the impractical ingredient of lemons, cut into thin slices. Over the process of cooking, the lemon flesh dissolved into the mixture, but the rind remained. The pieces were tender, but I still couldn't imagine biting into such bitterness, so I fished out the rind before I constructed the moussaka, even though the recipe didn't say to do so.
Apparently, Greeks do have unusually excessive and practical cookware, because to add all the filling ingredients, especially the pork and tomatoes, I had to transfer the mixture to a bigger skillet. The step of simmering down the filling also took longer than I expected (and than mentioned in the recipe); while waiting, I was tempted to mix my true heritage with my food-inspired culture, but I didn't have any ouzo on hand.
The layering of the dish truly reveals its excess. You start with a bed of oil-soaked eggplant, then cover it with the meat mixture and two cheeses: feta and parmesan. Then you repeat the same two layers before topping it off with yet one more layer of eggplant slices and a heavy dose of bread crumbs.
But the practical methods return as you finish cooking the dish: Just throw it in the oven and let it bake until it's brown on top. But of course, be sure to check that all that grease doesn't bubble over (especially if you have a gas stove with an open flame at the bottom!). Who knows what kind of disaster would've ensued if I had used pork with the full fat content.
Greek cuisine illustrates a similar paradox. For example, in moussaka, Greeks practically substitute eggplant for carbohydrate-filled pasta; apparently they were early practitioners of the Atkins diet. But to ensure excess, you fry the eggplant in oil, then top it with craploads of fat-filled meat and cheese. I mixed the practical with excessive when I took on the eggplant. When peeling an eggplant, which device seems most practical: this miniscule peeler or this lengthy knife? The knife, of course, and I grabbed the biggest one I could find to skin those suckers.
In a practical move, I didn't go out of my way to find the right ingredients. I used dried oregano and parsley, since I don't have fresh in my herb garden. And I figured diced tomatoes would be just as good as hand-crushed -- and less messy to my kitchen and clothing, I might add. Plus, I couldn't find ground lamb, so I settled for ground pork, which was an astonishing 95% fat-free!
Apparently, Greeks do have unusually excessive and practical cookware, because to add all the filling ingredients, especially the pork and tomatoes, I had to transfer the mixture to a bigger skillet. The step of simmering down the filling also took longer than I expected (and than mentioned in the recipe); while waiting, I was tempted to mix my true heritage with my food-inspired culture, but I didn't have any ouzo on hand.
The final result is practical in its scope: The dish can feed a large family -- or a small family for a week (Guess what will be in TJ's lunch for a while) -- and the rest can be frozen for future last-minute meals. But it is also excessive in the way a piece just oozes with grease as it slides into place on the plate. And of course, what do you use to sop up that delicious sauce? Some carb-concentrated bread, of course!
That looks really good. Perhaps you could just broil the eggplant in olive oil instead of frying every piece. It would be faster, but the question is, would it be delicious-er? If y'all get tired of eating it, I think I know some people that could, you know, take it off your hands.
ReplyDeleteThat's a great idea, although we don't have a broiler on our oven here. If we still have some by Wednesday, you're getting a few pieces.
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