Eggplant Tarte Tatin with Black Pepper Caramel

Eggplants were one of those foods I despised as a child. My face twisted in disgust when I saw that my parents had ordered them at a restaurant, they looked like fat worms slouched over each other, lurking in a dish smothered in some sort of gooey sauce. I hated their weird silky texture and imagined how easily they could slip down my throat, latch onto my esophagus and multiply by the dozens. Ugh. I begged my parents not to scoop any for me (along with onions and cooked carrots, my other childhood food aversions).

Then as I grew older, I started to enjoy the purple vegetable. I don’t exactly remember the turning point, but suddenly stopped dreading the sight of them when we dined out. I actually liked their slipperiness, how they slithered in my mouth bursting with a salty, chili sauce riddled with ground pork. That’s still my favourite way to eat them, especially with a bowl of rice soak up all the garlicky sauce. 

I’ve never had them in a sweet dish and I think we can agree, eggplant rarely comes in a dessert form, but thanks to my friend Claudia who sent me this recipe, here we are with eggplant tarte tatin. Does that sound heavenly? It tastes awesome by the way. 

The vegetable is shredded then sliced into thick matchsticks, boiled with butter and sugar until golden. The eggplant turns into luxurious pieces, reminding me of ripe pears but still retaining that familiar peppery bite. Blackened bits of eggplant clung to edges of the tart, which I picked at uncontrollably. The puff pastry is a superb vehicle for holding the eggplant candy (Ha! Never thought I’d use those words together) and besides, everyone loves flaky crusts.

Who would have thought caramelizing vegetables, let alone the humble eggplant, would transform it into a toffee-like substance? These could totally count as your serving of daily vegetables. 

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Recipe here!

Green Bean and Red Quinoa Salad

Like the other 50% of Torontonians that flocked to High Park to admire the cherry blossoms, I thought I'd share their beauty with you (if you haven't gotten sick of them already). I went  with my mom and cursed myself the whole time how I should have worn shorts. I didn’t believe how warm it was. It seemed implausible, an evil trickery from the weather people. The moment we parked the car, we were giddy with cherry-blossom-frenzy. Teeny buds of pink and white flowers swayed under the bright sun. I always forget how lovely it is this time of year, when we can shed our bulky jackets, throw on a bright dress and show some skin, and breathing in fresh air doesn’t hurt the lungs, but actually feels pleasant.

Mom and I walked around High Park, took more photos (I took about 259 photos that day alone) then strolled along Bloor Street West to find a good lunch spot. We were famished and sweaty and couldn’t be more happy to sit and rest our feet, we collapsed at a table at The Kennedy Public House. Getting my priorities straight, I ordered a Kronenberg, then we waited for our warm panzanella salad and chicken club sandwich (cleverly placed under the “witchcraft” category on the menu). We people-watched and again, boasted how lucky we were for the cooperative weather.

I craved something light and fresh, and the panzanella hit the spot. There were roasted tomatoes and red bell peppers, their syrupy juices seeping through the arugula and onions, softening the croutons, plus springy buffalo cheese and briny olives. I’m drooling just thinking about it. The sandwich was a delight too; moist bits of meat with mayo oozed between focaccia. Even the ceasar salad that came as a side was equally memorable; it won major brownie points for fried artichokes and homemade parmesan tuilles. I was so full I couldn’t breathe and thankful for the walk back to the car. 

The following day it was just as sunny and warm. I still wanted something crunchy and laden with vegetables. I’ve had plenty of quinoa in sitting my pantry for a while now and always promised myself to make it and feature it on my blog, but obviously, never got around to it. Maybe it was the panzanella, or the ceasar salad, but I had the urge to make something with spring greens. I made a green bean and quinoa salad inspired by Sara Forte of Sprouted Kitchen. It comes together easily and will even make you lick your plate. I know, you don’t hear of plate-lickingly good salads often, but trust me, the key is in the dressing. I made my own mustardy version for the dressing and the combination of heat, acid, and oil helps to bring the otherwise bland ingredients alive. I whizzed together garlic, lime zest, and a dollop of Kozlick’s sweet and smokey mustard.  

The green beans are blanched, then tossed with cooked quinoa, coated with the dressing and sprinkled with toasted pecans, to give you plenty of crunch in each forkful. It took less than 20 minutes to put together, I even enjoyed it on the balcony while watching the sun go down. It’s nice to see you too Spring.

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Recipe here!