Eggplant is native to a wide region stretching from India through Asia into China. Unlike some of our vegetables, eggplant has changed little over the 2000+ years it has been cultivated. In different times and cultures, a varied and contradictory array of properties have been attributed to the plant. Is it an aphrodisiac, or a cure for diabetes? Does it cause uterine damage, or relieve asthma? Is it the source of leprosy, or a cure for ear disease? Today, various sources claim eating eggplant skin can reduce your risk of cancer, obesity, and heart disease (and there is limited research to back up these claims), but the important thing about eggplant is that it is delicious.

I know, I know, some of you are saying, “Are you kidding? Eggplant is disgusting!” I admit, it can be. Eggplant can be bitter, rubbery, and thoroughly unlikable. Big, mature eggplants you find in the grocery store, shipped from Spain during the winter, are often less than tasty, but there is nothing more amazing than a young, freshly picked eggplant. I seldom need to salt my eggplants (which helps if the fruit is bitter), and I use eggplant in dozens of ways. From January to April it serves as our “meat”. Grated, it thickens spaghetti sauce, sliced thin and sautéed it adds deep flavours to a stir fry, on the grill, it soaks up marinade and turns to a melt-in-your mouth consistency.

My kids like it best as the “fish” in my vegetarian fish and chips. I make up a spicy batter (just as you would for the real thing), and fry big lengthwise slabs of battered eggplant until it’s just cooked and still firm. Served with a generous tray of oven fries, it’s as good as fast food gets.

In fact, one of my favourite bar meals (back when I used to go to a bar maybe once a year) used to be eggplant sandwiches at some place in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Battered, fried eggplant slabs smothered in tomato sauce and cheese in a big sub roll. Mmm!

Yeah, you may think eggplant is good for you, but to me, it’s just plain good.

Do you have a favourite way to eat eggplant?

Dieting websites and the media like to talk about our “relationship” with food–how and why we eat, how we use food to modulate our mood or to fill emotional needs. They tell us that if we can identify our eating habits, we can change them to become thinner or more healthy.

A gardener’s relationship with food encompasses far more than eating. It is more than a late-night ice cream binge; it is a long-term affair. I plan the garden, till the soil, plant the seeds, water, weed, squish pests, and do a hundred other tasks before finally harvesting, preparing and eating the food. For some foods, the relationship lasts well over a year, from planting to eating (or many years, if you consider the fruit trees).

A gardener’s relationship with food revolves about the seasons. A vegetable out of season tastes wrong, leaves me unsatisfied. Likewise, when a food is in season can become a key part of my relationship with it. For example, artichokes have become a comfort food for me, because they reliably produce during the early spring gap when there’s almost nothing to eat in the garden.

Do I love you because you’re beautiful?

A gardener’s relationship with food includes feelings about different varieties of plant. For example, I absolutely adore Brandywine tomatoes, so much so that I insist on planting them, even though they prefer a much hotter, longer summer, and don’t do well here. And I’ve grown very fond of Russian Red tomatoes, because they keep on producing until they are pounded down by repeated frosts, long after other varieties have given up.

A gardener’s relationship with food includes how a food is harvested and stored. Pumpkins make me feel surrounded by loved ones, because the family often helps pick, sort and store them. Hot peppers and garlic become special because of the care needed to string and braid them for storage, and their beauty as they hang in the kitchen waiting to be used.

A gardener’s relationship with food includes how it is prepared. For example, a jar of soup heated quickly for dinner when we all come home late is one of the most satisfying meals I know, because the soup was made by the whole family in an all-day team effort at the end of summer.

Most importantly, I believe, a gardener’s relationship with food is a mutual one—I nurture the food, and the food nurtures me and my family. I walk through the garden and am fed. And when the family sits down to a meal, we thank not only the cook, but the gardener and the plants for the bounty before us.

Ironically, it’s when the garden is absolutely bursting with vegetables that I least feel like cooking. Hot summer days make me want to stay outside until dark. I don’t want to go inside to stand over a hot stove. I’d be happy to walk through the garden “grazing” instead of sitting down to a meal.

The good thing is that with so many vegetables at their best, summer cooking need not be elaborate. Simply prepared, and lightly cooked, fresh summer vegetables are at their best. Here is my absolute favourite simple summer meal. Though this dish does heat the kitchen, it’s quick to prepare and doesn’t need watching, so you can sit on the porch with a cool drink while it bakes.

Roast Vegetables

Chop a selection of vegetables into large chunks. Any of the following do nicely:

Carrot

Zucchini/courgette

Eggplant

Tomato (whole cherry tomatoes are especially nice)

Green beans

Potato

Sweet corn (still on the cob, cut each ear into about 4 chunks)

Sweet pepper/capsicum

Beets/beetroot (sliced to about 3mm so it cooks fully)

Mushrooms

Put the vegetables into a wide baking dish, along with 2 cloves of sliced garlic, a few sprigs of fresh rosemary and/or thyme, and salt and pepper to taste. Drizzle a generous amount of olive oil over the vegetables, and toss until evenly coated. Bake at 230°C (450°F) for about 30 minutes, stirring once after 15 minutes. Serve hot or at room temperature.

I harvested the garlic a few days ago. The only blessing in the drought we’re experiencing is that the garlic has dried down enough and should store well this year. It’s been curing in the sun, and today I braided it into ropes that will hang in the shed until we need them.

My favourite garlicky dish is Skordalia—Greek garlic sauce. Easy to make, and excellent as a dip for fresh vegetables! We made it last year with purple potatoes, and the vivid colour was a huge hit. Here is the skordalia recipe from Greek Cooking for the Gods, by Eva Zane.

6 cloves of garlic, minced

2 cups mashed potatoes

½ tsp salt

1 cup olive oil

½ cup cider vinegar

Place the garlic, potatoes, and salt in a blender on high speed until smooth. Slowly add the oil, alternating with vinegar, and blend until smooth. Chill for several hours before serving.