Berenjena Frito (my take)

A memorable and delicious dish is sometimes only created to tease our taste buds, to cause conflict in our mouths, to find a more complex story behind the bite where, frankly there is none. One of Spain's best known appetizers is a simple vegetable dish that contrasts a crispy crust with a soft fluffy inside, and a savoury tang that is tempered by the sweetest of drizzles. Berenjena frito is such a dish. 

I cannot for the life of me remember when I first had eggplant, its deep purple leathery skin shining like polished toe caps, and its spongy ivory flesh ready to transform into cooked velvety joy. I do however, remember eating it in huge quantities as part of a ratatouille in my small studio in Paris many years ago, because ratatouille then was all that I could cook (and badly too, along with over boiled and highly salted rice). No wonder when I finally gave Paris up and returned to family and friends all Prodigal and "so French" I was 115lbs. 

Since then and mostly through ignorance and lack of imagination have I often given this vegetable a withering look in the vegetable store. I find it hard work to think of what to do with them other than nightmarish flashbacks to French dishes that are simple and quick and enjoyable (no one mention Baba Ganoush at this point or my cover is blown!)  

So, eggplant, aubergine, melanzane however you want to call it, simply dipped in flour and fried then served with honey or molasses provides an interesting result to my dilemma. I have underscored my recipe with several caveats.

Berenjena Frito

Ingredients:

Eggplant/Aubergine

Flour

Salt

Cayenne pepper (optional)

Vegetable oil for frying

Stale bread

Ingenio Nuestra Senora del Carmen Molasses (or runny honey)

First caveat: I have not stipulated how much as it is dependent on the number of people. One large eggplant/aubergine is enough for two or three people as a starter. Two large ones will obviously work for double the amount of people, unless you have been starved. More also requires the cook to stay at their station for longer.

Fill a large bowl with cold water and dissolve a couple of tablespoons of salt. Slice the vegetable into rounds about quarter inch thickness. Put the slices into the salted water and cover with a plate. The pieces bob like corks so need to be weighted down. Leave for an hour or so.

Second caveat: The next stage often if not traditionally, then soaks the leached vegetables in milk overnight. This is meant to add a layer of flavour and tenderness to the meal but I don't do this as I don't drink milk.

In a deep pan with a lid to the side pour in the vegetable oil to about an inch or so and start to heat (the lid is to stop flames in case you take your eye off the ball... It has happened!). 

Rinse and pat the vegetables with paper towel enough so that the brackish water is removed. Then in a bag filled with flour, salt and a pinch of cayenne pepper shake until each piece is totally covered. 

Third caveat: I add a pinch of cayenne pepper for added flavour but it is not necessary and is certainly not considered traditional. 

To test the temperature of the oil use a small cube of bread and watch it fry. If it is more than 20 seconds it is too cold. If it is around 15-20 that is ok to start your batch frying. If it is a few seconds grab the lid and turn off the heat (and maybe get ready to call the emergency services). 

In small batches drop in the sliced floured vegetables and watch them turn a golden colour. With a slotted spoon or spider strainer, remove them when they are cooked to a plate lined with a paper towel. They do retain heat however, keep them in a warm place while the remaining batches are doing. 

When they are all done place on a platter and sprinkle with a bit of sea salt. Finally, in a flourish of glorious sweet joy drizzle the molasses or honey in zig zagged lines over the platter before serving.

Final caveat: you may want to taste test these several times before sharing.