Eggplant parmesan with baby heirloom tomatoes: Procrastinator edition

I did nothing to look for the camera transfer cable, even though I told you I would. I blatantly lied to your face. If you’re still reading me, I thank you. I figured I wouldn’t want to put in the extra effort to look through boxes upon boxes of wires that look exactly like the elusive one I was looking for. The hardest (this is a very relative term and I am exaggerating a bit. Let me) part was finding one side of the cable fit right into my computer and the other didn’t. It was – how should I put this – dumb.

So I went about with my life, procrastinating every single step of the way. There are few things harder to grasp than procrastination. You know you’re doing it. Every moment you do do it (do-do do doo) you’re doing it. Even when you aren’t actively doing it, you’re thinking about it, which makes you do it anyway.

“Leave me alone procrastination buddy!”
“BUT I CAN’T!”

By a master stroke of luck, I live with a person as obsessed by cables and wires as I would imagine he’d be considering the amount of them he chooses to hang on to. There are some for the X-Box (and I don’t think I spelt X-Box correctly), others for the PS3, many for the imaginary cinema-like feeling we get while watching 3/4 of a movie and passing out 3 times in between (that’s mostly me) and the rest I just don’t know for what else.

But I do have someone who knows exactly what he wants to do with them, should that time arrive. I whined to him.

“I can’t find my grey camera cable.”
“What does it plug in to?”
“The camera”

Obviously he meant for me to describe the shape of plug that goes into the camera but I am limited by my knowledge of describing shapes. I can do circles, ovals, a square perhaps and if I really must, rectangles. Oh and triangles. What else is there?

Not one for the art of being patient, he finds the camera, looks at the part of the camera where you can plug all sorts of fun stuff into (HDMI, A/V, boom mic (?). I just wanted to say boom mic) and begins his search and rescue.

A little bit later:

“Will this work?”
“It should. I’ll try it and let you know. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”

I think that was on Friday.

Procrastination, man.

This is no traditional eggplant parmigiana and I’m not claiming it is. Loyalists, don’t be offended. I used Thai eggplant for this recipe and the difference I saw from using regular purple eggplant was the texture. It was a lot firmer and held it’s shape a lot better after being in the oven for 30 minutes. I was told this eggplant is slightly spicier but I really couldn’t tell.

Ingredients

Crusted eggplant recipe adapted from Edible Perspective

For the cornmeal-crusted eggplant

• 5 Thai eggplants, cut in 1/4 to 1/2 inch rounds
• 1 cup fine-ground cornmeal
• 1/4 tsp salt + more for sprinkling on the eggplant prior to coating it with flour
• 1 tsp paprika
• 1/2 cup cornflour
• 2-3 large eggs, beaten

For the heirloom tomato salad

• 2.2 kg/1 lb baby heirloom tomatoes, sliced through the middle or into rounds
• 15-20 fresh Thai basil leaves
• Grated parmesan cheese, to top

For the simple vinaigrette

• 3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
• 2 tbsp red wine vinegar
• Crack of fresh black pepper
• Salt to taste

Place the cut eggplant on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Sprinkle salt over the top to remove some of the water from it. Use about 1/2-2 generous pinches. Let them sit for 15 minutes, or until you see water underneath and onto of the cut eggplant. Drain in a colander and pat dry with a kitchen towel.

Take the same baking sheet and change out the parchment paper. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.

Line up 3 bowls: One with cornflour, one with beaten eggs and the last with cornmeal. Coat the eggplant slices with cornflour first. Next dip the eggplant in the egg. Lastly, coat it well with the cornmeal and place it on the baking sheet. Put the eggplant into the oven for 15 minutes. Pull it out, flip the rounds over and put it back in the oven for 15 more minutes until the eggplant is cooked through, yet still crisp.

While the eggplant is cooking in the oven, cut the tomatoes and mix it with the basil in a small bowl. Prepare the vinaigrette and pour it over. If you want less of the vinaigrette over the tomatoes, refrigerate what you don’t use for later use.

To assemble, place the warm eggplant on your plate and top with the heirloom tomatoes. You could also layer it, as is done with eggplant parmigiana. Grate cheese on the top and serve.