MAKES 2 CUPS
This is an “eggplant caviar” if you will, a spicy-sweet-tart purée of eggplant that beguiles even those who think they hate eggplant. One of the first dishes I ever made, it has become a China Moon hallmark. Served in tiny bowls ringed by crispy garlic croutons, it is the amuse-gueule (throat-tickler) we send to all our guests.
Unlike traditional Chinese eggplant dishes, which are steamed or fried, this one is baked. It makes it easy and texturally interesting. I use Western eggplant purposely here for its slightly bitter edge! The sweeter Chinese and Japanese varieties taste wimpy in this dish.
The eggplant is most flavorful when made in advance and it can be kept in the refrigerator for up to a week. The croutons are sublime when eaten freshly baked and merely excellent done a day in advance and stored at room temperature with an airtight seal.
In the Chinese language, homonyms written with different characters abound, and the meanings of words can shift and sometimes nearly reverse themselves on the roller-coaster ride through the centuries.
“Strange-flavor” is a great example of a puzzle to chew on: Why would a culture name a dish so oddly? (Some of our reviewers have cited this as a culinary turn-off.) It turns out that in some of the more golden eras of Chinese history, the character for “strange” meant a positive-sounding “elusive” or “ineffable,” as in a wonderful combination of flavors that can’t be pulled apart. Maybe if I renamed the dish “Elusive Eggplant” the critics would be pleased.
“Fish-Flavor” is another amusing Chinese menu puzzle. The modern characters for these words do, indeed, translate as “fish flavor,” inspiring writers on Chinese cooking to propose that the spicy flavors of these mostly pork and chicken dishes imitate the seasonings used for fish. What? Enter the weighty dictionary of Chinese homonyms. It turns out that these same sounds in ancient Chinese apply to two entirely different characters, which are the old names for Hunan and Szechwan. Suddenly, the spicy dimensions of a mystery sauce make sense: The real meaning is “Szechwan-Hunan” flavor, nothing fishy about it!
“Cosmic chaos” is my favorite pun of all. This is the meaning of won-ton as it appears in the first line of every ancient Chinese cosmology. (“In the beginning, the universe was a won-ton (chaos) inside a thin shell, before the earth separated into the dark and the heaven into the light…”) Perhaps Confucius slurping his soup at dinner named the dumplings after the theory! Only much later did the phrase reinvent itself in two other modern characters meaning “swallowing clouds.” A prettier lyric image, but not the richly ironic one of antiquity.
1 to 1¼ pounds large Western eggplant
AROMATICS:
1 tablespoon finely minced garlic
1 tablespoon finely minced fresh ginger
¼ cup thinly sliced green and white scallion rings
¼ to ½ teaspoon dried red chili flakes
SAUCE:
3 tablespoons soy sauce
3 tablespoons packed brown sugar
1 teaspoon unseasoned Japanese rice vinegar
1 tablespoon hot water
2 tablespoons corn or peanut oil
½ teaspoon Japanese sesame oil
Garlic Croutons (page 37)
Thinly sliced green and white scallion rings, for garnish
1. Preheat the oven to 475°F. Move the rack to the middle position.
2. Prick the eggplant well in several places with a fork or the tip of a sharp knife and remove the leaves. Bake on a baking sheet, turning once, until fork-tender, 20 to 40 minutes, depending on the size. Remove the eggplant and slit it lengthwise to speed the cooling.
3. While still warm, remove the tough stem end and the peel, scraping off and retrieving any pulp. Cube the pulp, then process the pulp and any thick baking juices in a food processor or blender until nearly smooth. (Eggplant differs enormously in water content. Some will leach nothing when baked, others leach a tasteless water, while some ooze a tasty liquor. It is only the latter that should be used.)
4. Combine the aromatics in a small dish. Combine the sauce ingredients in a small bowl, stirring to dissolve the sugar.
5. Heat a wok or large heavy skillet over high heat until hot enough to evaporate a bead of water on contact. Add the 2 tablespoons corn oil, swirl to glaze the pan, then reduce the heat to moderately high. When hot enough to foam a scallion ring, add the aromatics and stir-fry until fragrant, about 15 seconds, adjusting the heat so they sizzle without scorching. Add the sauce ingredients and stir until simmering. Then add the eggplant, stir well to blend, and heat through. Remove from the heat, then taste and adjust with a dash more chili flakes, brown sugar, or vinegar, if needed to achieve a zesty flavor. Stir in the sesame oil.
6. Allow to cool, stirring occasionally. The flavor is fullest if the eggplant is refrigerated overnight, sealed airtight. Serve at room temperature, spooned onto the croutons and garnished with a sprinkling of scallion.
MENU SUGGESTIONS: A perfect munchie at most any time of the day or evening, this is also a good foil to the flavors of most all of our cold noodles and cold poultry or meat dishes. It would also be wonderfully at home at a Western barbecue.
A classic name for a series of Chinese dishes that typically employ a mixture of vinegar, sugar, and chili (and—if you are sitting in central China—also a dollop of peanut butter or sesame paste), this is strange as in “wonderful,” “unique,” or “ineffable.” Weird-flavor eggplant it is not!
A thesis could be written on the evolution of the meaning of the word “gwai” or “strange” in not only Chinese cooking but also in Chinese art and literary criticism. And if I ever break away from the stove, it is something I’d love to do!