79. Moussaka (p. 514)

When my wife and I were in college, one of our favorite places to eat was Grendel's Den in Harvard Square. Two romantic dinners at this cozy student-friendly restaurant stand out in my memory. The first was when we shared their "Cheese Fondue for Two." The other was the dinner where I was first introduced to moussaka. I'm sure that it was winter, because I remember how comforting the warm layers of spiced lamb, eggplant, tomatoes and bechamel sauce were. Ever since then, this has been one of my favorite dishes.

According to my Oxford Companion to Food there are many variations of moussaka, which gets its name from the Arabic word for "moistened," a reference to the tomato juices that permeate this dish. This recipe* is a version of the Greek interpretation of moussaka.

The recipe starts with sautéing onions, garlic and ground lamb. I used ground turkey because, despite all of my efforts, my wife won't eat lamb. Next I added cinnamon, allspice, dried mint and chopped canned plum tomatoes with some juice reserved from the canned tomatoes. For this step, I strained the canned tomatoes in a colander suspended over a bowl to catch the juices. I discarded the pulp leftover in the colander and used just the tomato juice for the recipe. In retrospect, I should have put the pulp back in with the juice because that would have given the filling some more substance. My filling, which was just a bit more watery that I would have liked.

While the turkey and tomato mixture was simmering, I broiled some eggplant slices that I had brushed with some olive oil. Once the eggplant slices were browned and tender, I assembled the moussaka by layering half of the eggplant slices, spreading the turkey and tomato mixture, and topping it with the rest of the eggplant.

Then I made the topping, which is a bechamel sauce with a twist. First, I made a roux of butter and flour, and then I whisked in some milk and brought it to a boil. Then I melted some crumbled feta cheese into the sauce which gave it a nice, and unexpected salty, tangy richness. Finally, I whisked in an egg and a yolk beaten together. I poured this over the casserole and topped it with some grated Parmigiano-Reggiano.

I baked the moussaka until it was golden and bubbling. After it rested for a few minutes, it was ready to eat. I really enjoyed this dish. It tasted and smelled great. The cinnamon, allspice and mint gave this moussaka a great, traditional Greek flavor. The eggplant was tender and delicious, and the feta-spiked bechamel was awesome! The turkey was fine, but lamb would have been better.
And the leftovers were just as good out of the microwave.

Date Cooked: November 23, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: B+

*This recipe is not on epicurious.com.

9. Eggplant Pizza (p. 197)

When I think of eggplant pizza, I think of little islands of deep-fried eggplant floating on a marinara sauce sea with frothy waves of melted cheese. This recipe has changed my thinking.

The Book says to save this pizza for the grown-ups, presumably because kids will balk at the absence of sauce, and the abundance of garlic. Well, the rugrats can keep their Chuck E. Cheese, this pizza's all mine.

The recipe starts with broiling eggplant slices (lightly brushed with olive oil) until they're tender and golden. The eggplant slices are then layered on the Basic Pizza Dough and topped with mozzarella and parmigiano-reggiano. Finally, garlic and red pepper flakes are quickly cooked in oil and spooned over the top. This last step gave me a little bit of trouble because The Book says to cook the garlic and red pepper "until just fragrant, 30 to 40 seconds." Well, wouldn't you know it, in just a matter of a couple of seconds, the garlic went from "fragrant" to "burnt." I know, I know, we've been through this before with the Pita Toasts, but if I learn anything through this project, I hope that it's a better sense of cooking times.

With the pizza assembled, then came the moment of truth: getting the pizza from the peel onto the blazing hot pizza stone without spilling it onto the oven floor. Kind of like that old tablecloth trick, the idea is to jerk the peel out from under the pizza without jerking the pizza along with it. (I took this "before" picture so that I'd still have something to show in case of disaster.) The Book helpfully instructs dusting the peel with cornmeal (to act like little edible ball bearings), and to do a few test jerks before assembling the pizza, just to make sure that the dough won't stick to the peel. Even after all of these precautions, I still held my breath as I gave the peel the fateful jerk. It worked!

This pizza couldn't have tasted better. The eggplant was tender and flavorful (even though the garlic was overcooked, it still had a nice garlicy taste, but not too much). The cheese was bubbly and nicely browned. The crust was crispy and chewy in all the right places.

Even microwaved for lunch the next day, this was still great. I'm looking forward to try the other pizza recipes in The Book.

Date Cooked: June 22, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: A

2. Eggplant "Caviar" (p.11)

If I stumbled with the Pita Toasts, I jumped right back up with this great dip. This dish is simple enough, even though it does dirty more than its fair share of dishes: you have to broil the eggplant and tomatoes, and then you need to saute the onion and green pepper, and then you need to whiz the whole thing in the food processor.

The real reason I burned the Pita Toasts was because, instead of watching them closely, I was washing all the dishes I dirtied making this dip.

All that aside, this dip was excellent, the roasted flavors of the eggplant and tomatoes blended well with the carmelized flavors of the onions and peppers.

Date Cooked: June 14, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Easy
Rating: A