Eggplant & Olive Caponata Pasta

IMG_4803

I grew up eating a lot of meat and potatoes. Both sides of my family have strong Irish heritage, and spilling over from generations who cooked to feed many on less, those meat and potato dishes didn’t come with much by way of seasoning. My dad refused to eat rice without first spewing a gazillion complaints. Spicy food meant a dab of medium salsa and worldly cuisine meant eating tacos with corn tortillas (instead of flour) from the taco wagon, a feat that did not happen until high school.

During my sophomore year in college, the first year alone and off a meal plan, armed with loads of curiosity and roommates willing to branch out, I learned much of cooking, seasoning, and by trial and error, how to eat healthily. I learned to eat and cherish vegetable meals without meat. I discovered new cuisines.

IMG_4800

It was then that I stumbled on a recipe in the food section of the Oregonian for Sicilian Caponata. My love for eggplants, kalamata olives, and Italian cuisine was firmly cemented.

Over the years, this slightly unusual take on caponata has become my favorite pasta dish. It’s the one I talk about when people ask me what to do with eggplant. It’s the one I think about in February when tomatoes and eggplants are all out of season, but the rich combination of heat-loving vegetables, balsamic vinegar, cinnamon and cocoa, capers and olives all stewed into a lovely sauce make me long for summer again. This is the dish I have made over and over this summer, eating it day after day, skipping a week, and then making it all over again. And it is perfect in this month when the garden (and markets) are teeming with eggplants and tomatoes in their end-of-summer glory.

My parents have come a long way since those adolescent days, and though I haven’t made this dish for them, I know they too, would eat it right up.

Caponata Pasta, adapted from the Oregonian, serves 4
olive oil
1/2 a large onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 Tbs. raisins
1/4 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes
1 medium eggplant, peeled and cut into 1/2″ cubes
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1 Tbs. cocoa powder
1 tsp. fresh minced thyme
3 to 4 very ripe tomatoes
1/4 cup pitted and sliced kalamata olives
2 Tbs. capers, rinsed and drained
2 Tbs. balsamic vinegar
salt and pepper to taste
8 oz. tubular pasta (I used Ancient Harvest Gluten-Free rotelle)
  • In a large pan, saute onion, garlic, raisins, and pepper flakes for about 10 minutes or until the onions are soft.
  • Stir in eggplant, sugar, cinnamon and cocoa powder and cook 5 to 10 minutes more over medium-high heat.  You may have to add a drizzle of water to soften the mixture up.
  • Add the thyme, olives, capers, tomatoes, and vinegar.  Bring to a boil, then lower heat and simmer for 10 to 15 minutes more.
  • While the sauce is simmering, cook the pasta, taking off the heat and draining just before it is done.
  • Toss pasta with sauce until thoroughly combined and the pasta is al dente.  Season with salt and pepper to taste and serve!
 

Savory-Sweet Summer Squash Salad

IMG_4553

I stop suddenly on the trail, leering to the left, then swinging right. Taking it all in. This is one of my favorite places in the world. The place where W proposed, where we walked and ran together that last summer here. Where visiting friends and family were brought. Where I escaped Biology 212 and pondered life instead.

Serenity. Belonging. Ownership. These feelings wash over me.

Breath in. Release. And running again.

I opt for an out and back and take it all in again from the opposite direction, this time reveling in the change of light and the minty-summery-grassy aroma. Watch the sheep far off in the back pasture.

photo (31)

“Life goes on, day after day, but it also has the ability to reinvent itself, to start over.”

Farmers markets. Checking out my “must read” books from the library. Lazing away a post-5k afternoon, curled up with W. Somehow getting my body up and out the door to run 11 miles on a Sunday morning and then getting myself to church. Experiences I didn’t let myself enjoy this past year. Until now.

After months of unease and indecisiveness, starting over. Back to the place that feels like home. The college town that’s been in my dreams. I’ve longed for a sense of community, for fitting in where my values lie. For meeting new and catching up with old friends. I’m anxious to begin. Already beginning. W’s advice “don’t push it; let it happen,” as I restlessly wait for him to join me permanently in the fall. I’d like for everything to come into place all at once, but we’re easing back in to the thick of things.

“This is what the seasons show us. We all have marveled at the apple tree’s ability to rest through a dark, cold winter, then to grow new leaves in the spring, to blossom again, to bear fruit.” We’ve been waiting through the long winter these last couple years. We’re ready to let our flowers bloom. Grow those apples, I say.

Later, a moment’s jaunt from our new abode, W and I walk through the forest of ferns and Oregon grape, oak and Douglas fir. We contemplate this transition. Our journey has many unknowns. As one of us is uncertain, the other has been given divine wisdom to trust the process. It is a back and forth sort of thing, and we have always worked this way, it seems.  Through the major decisions, this leaning on each other. Today, I encourage W to settle in to the journey, to welcome the ups and downs. Both are progress. We are moving forward again. To new beginnings.

IMG_4543

Quotes are taken from The Runner’s Guide to the Meaning of Life by Amby Burfoot.
 
This salad was inspired by a recent trip to Whole Foods Market.  I wandered around and around the prepared foods counter until I finally settled on the salad with raisins.  It was a solid choice, and I knew I needed to recreate the recipe.  I changed the ingredients up a bit, by using millet and adding the summer squash, which in a greedy moment, I snatched more than was needed from my mom’s garden. If you do not have millet, feel free to substitute quinoa or couscous.  Don’t skip the raisins, they add the perfect counter balance to the Middle Eastern-inspired spices.
 
Savory-Sweet Summer Squash Salad, serves 3-4 as a side dish
The vegetables in this can easily be interchanged. Sautéing diced eggplant instead of bell pepper is a great addition for the Middle Eastern flavors.

Recipe Updated: 8/25/21
1/8 tsp. ground allspice
1/2 tsp. fennel seeds
1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1/2 tsp. ground coriander
1/2 tsp. ground turmeric
pinch of black pepper
1/4 tsp. sea salt
1/4 cup raisins
3/4 cup millet, uncooked
1 1/2 cups water
Juice of 1/2 a  medium lemon
2 Tbs. olive oil plus more for sautéing
1/2 Tbs. raw honey
1 medium onion, diced
1/2 red bell pepper, diced
1 medium zucchini, diced
1 medium yellow summer squash, diced
fresh basil or cilantro, optional

  • To begin, bring water, spices, salt, and raisins to boil in a heavy saucepan.  When boiling, gently stir in millet and cover with a lid.  Lower heat to simmer and cook for 25 minutes.  When done, set aside.
  • While grain is cooking, stir together the lemon juice, honey, and olive oil.  Set aside.
  • Dice onion, bell pepper, and summer squashes into a medium dice.  Heat a large sauté pan over medium-high. Pour in enough olive oil to lightly coat bottom of pan.  When hot, add the onion, and sauté for 15-20 minutes, until slightly caramelized.  After about 15 minutes, stir in the bell pepper.  Add a dash of water as needed to help caramelize.
  • When onions are sweet and golden, stir in the zucchini and summer squash.  Sauté for 5-10 more minutes until squash is slightly soft.  Stir in the cooked millet and the dressing.  Adjust seasoning and sprinkle with finely minced fresh basil or cilantro, about 1 tablespoon per serving.

Olive-Raisin Roasted Cauliflower

photo (27)

Standing over the cutting board, slicing olive flesh off the pits, I am drawn to contemplation once more.  My heart has felt heavy these last few weeks. For me, late winter has typically been a time of drawing in, folding the blankets of life around me, closing the curtains, blocking out drafts.  For whatever reason, this time of year leads me to risk less, to soak in my quiet hours of solitude, to ignore phone calls and invitations.  I have fallen into this pattern once more, and am in need of getting out of my head, putting my energy to use on a cause less related to my own.  I am reminded of my current tasks, the most important to listen for answers, though the urgency of the everyday often fiddles the knobs on my ears and speeds up the actions of my feet.

photo (28)

Yesterday was a warm and sunny late-winter afternoon. School was finally out for the week, spring break just around the corner. Ready for some dialing in to the right listening frequency and slowing down of the feet, I longingly looked out the window, ready to feel the sun.

One of my students walked in and in the space of only a few minutes, a forceful acknowledgement fell suddenly into my lap.

There are lives more challenged; basic needs going unmet. My own circle of worries bumps into other circles that are stretched further, weighted far heavier than my own.

photo (26)

In this moment, I willingly set aside my worries of the day-to-day. I set aside the fact that I cannot control the actions and decisions of others. I’m drawn back to focus on listening. Though I wish it weren’t so, these things, tough situations for undeserving people, happen for a reason.

Time, patience, understanding. Smoothing the blankets. Opening the curtains to let in the light, thoughts flow brighter filtered through golden rays.

There it is, spring is on it’s way.

Olive-Raisin Roasted Cauliflower, adapted from Plenty

Juice from half an orange
1/2 a head of cauliflower, chopped
1/2 a medium onion, chopped
1/4 cup mixed olives, pitted and diced
1 large or 2 small bay leaves
1/4 cup raisins
1 1/2 Tbs. garlic-infused olive oil
Sea salt and ground black pepper, to taste
small handful fresh parsley, minced
  • Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.  In an medium-size oven-proof casserole dish, pour in the orange juice.  Toss in the remaining ingredients, except the parsley. Cover with foil and transfer to the oven. 
  • Bake for about 40 minutes, or until the cauliflower is tender, but still a bit firm.
  • Take from the oven, uncover, and allow to cool down for a few minutes.  Stir in the parsley, and adjust seasoning as needed.
  • Serve warm or at room temperature.