Sunday, April 06, 2003

We asked four different women over to share our lamb feast this Saturday.  Three of them had very legitimate excuses for not being able to attend.  A fourth – the always stalwart Em – mysteriously failed to return our emails. In nearly thirty years of life, I have  never found more compelling evidence that there is a just and protective God watching over us.  Well, them anyway. In the roast lamb Marinade au Laurier, Eric sensed a hint of Welch’s grape juice, Julie a whiff of sour milk.  Let us just say that the five-day marinated lamb roast left these tasters cold, if not actually retching into the toilet. Over the course of the evening, the lamb, in its stages of preparation, was compared variously to an alien stillbirth and a piece of mystery meat devoured by French revolutionaries after being found hanging in the cellar of an aristocrat’s abandoned palace.  In a way, this lamb marinated in red wine and bay leaves is quintessential French cookery: take some scary-ass piece of flesh and fuck with it until it tastes good.  Except for the tasting good part. To go along with it there was Sauce Venaison, which starts with a brown sauce made by sautéing  (marinated) lamb bones with onions and carrots in lard, then removing the bones and vegetables and making a brown roux before beating in beef boullion and vermouth and putting the bones and vegetables back in.  This is simmered for two hours or so, then degreased and strained.  Right before serving, stir in a lot of pepper, some red currant jelly, and some whipping cream.  It was okay.  Not nearly good enough to make up for the ass-tasting lamb, however. Another piece of evidence for a God looking after my interests, however, is that the girls didn’t show up to take up any of our precious Ratatouille, which let me tell you was a fucking revelation.  The main body of this revelation is that I frickin’ LOVE eggplant.  Who knew?  I’d always sort of turned up my nose at it, mostly because I associated it with vegetarians.  But I gotta say, I’m a believer. The Ratatouille took a little time, but it was a pleasant thing to make, homey and soothing.  Start by peeling some eggplants (I used the small Italian ones) and cutting them up into pieces half an inch thick, and inch wide, and about three inches long.  Then chop up some zucchini into pieces about the same size.  Toss them with salt and let them sit for half an hour or so to release their liquid.  While that’s happening, slice some onions and green bell peppers, smash some garlic, peel and juice and slice some tomatoes. After the eggplant and zucchini has finished sitting around, dry the pieces and let them brown, one layer at a time in some olive oil.  This is when I figured out about how I loved eggplant.  I was filching browned pieces out of the bowl at an alarming rate.  The crispy browned edges with the soft flesh was so fucking good, almost like fried okra.  Holy moley.  I could eat plain browned eggplant all day long. Once all the eggplant and zucchini is browned and set aside in a bowl, throw the sliced onions and peppers into the pan.  You’ll probably need to add some more olive oil too.  Let them cook over low heat for ten minutes, until tender but not browned.  Add some garlic and salt and pepper.  Lay the tomato slices on top of the peppers and onions, salt and pepper again, and cook covered for five minutes so the tomatoes release their juices.  Then uncover and cook over higher eat to evaporate the juices. In another casserole layer a third of the tomatoes/onions/peppers mixture, followed by a tablespoon of chopped parsley, followed by half of the eggplant and zucchini.  Another third each of tomato/onions/peppers and parsley, the last half of the eggplant and zucchini.  The last third of tomato/onion/peppers and parsley.  Cook covered for ten minutes, and uncovered for fifteen.  Actually, I did a little less than that. Oh god this is so good.  Once the lamb proved a bust, Eric made some rice to mix the ratatouille with, and you could eat this as a main dish no problem.  No wonder I associate eggplant with vegetarians.  If I was a vegetarian, I’d eat this shit all the time too.  Damn! On an unrelated note, yesterday was a really bad day.  The weather in New York had me about ready to open a vein.  The fact that Eric keeps forgetting to bring the laundry bag home from work seemed a reflection on the general sorry and joyless state of our existence, and both my trouble turning the lamb, and the way the stove smoked so badly, were more reasons why I don’t deserve to live.  Eric has promised he’ll go see the doctor about his acid stomach if I address my anger management issues.  Yeah, right -- I sense an impasse here.  Oddly, though, by the time the lamb tasted like shit I had rather cheered up.  I credit the Ratatouille.  That and a couple of vodka tonics, and life is looking rosy again. 11:37:42 AM    comment []