If you cook, and as you cook, you’ll build up a repertoire of recipes. There is a school of thought that all that’s needed for a lifetime of putting food on the table is to learn to prepare only 30 or so recipes: 10 each of starters, mains, and desserts. One cook I knew — a former banker turned artist, no longer with us — always served exactly the same menu at every dinner party. I was okay with this, as his house was the only place I had this meal, but I have to ask:  wasn’t he bored? Wasn’t his wife, who said she’d rather wash dishes than cook, bored?  I guess choosing this path will probably do, although it’s not the choice I have made.

I made a lot of mistakes when I was learning to cook, and my family and dinner guests paid the price. Too ambitious, too difficult for my skill level, timing off. I once listened to a friendly butcher who, when I was young and asked for filet mignon, said it was going to be too expensive and insisted eye round would be just as good. He was right about the price, but I remember how there was a lot of chewing. And chewing. And chewing. Oh well. I am glad now, though, that I didn’t hang my hat on a roster of the same old same old, especially since I was able to up my game in a fortunate time, when travel was easy, and there was glory to be found and expanding in the aisles of ordinary supermarkets. Beautiful and varied produce, fresh fish and meats, cheeses and oils and breads. Paradise!

All that aside, there are some recipes that do become reliable standards. Years ago I was served the dish pictured at Maxim’s, an outdoor cafe in Aix en Provence. It was around the time that the autumn clock was turned back, and it was exactly the perfect thing on a chilly October evening. Maxim’s is gone now, sadly, but my version of this delicious combination lives on at my house. The stew is similar to a ratatouille, but without the time-consuming heavy lifting of having to sauté each vegetable separately. It goes together quickly and is better made and mellowed ahead. I use it as a side dish, usually — try it with chicken, beef, lamb, fish, rice or potatoes, some good bread. It’s endlessly versatile.

Eggplant and Tomato Stew

Serves eight or so as a side dish and can be halved. Or, to serve as a main dish, use as a base for eggs, as shown, or for fish. Both eggs and fish should be cooked separately. Sprinkle sautéed, browned bread crumbs on top.

One medium to large onion
One pepper, finely diced  — I used to use a green pepper, but red, orange or yellow taste sweeter
2 TB. neutral olive oil — I use Berio
2 TB. unsalted butter, or use only olive oil. I think butter adds good flavor, but up to you.
2 or 3 pressed garlic cloves
2 28 oz. cans of peeled plum tomatoes —I buy Cento. I put the tomatoes into a separate bowl, pinching off the stem ends and removing any tough stringy bits and pieces of tomato skin.
A pinch of nutmeg
1 tsp. dried basil
2 medium (about 1 lb. each) eggplants
Chopped zucchini, optional
Bread crumb topping

Peel the eggplants and cut them into one-inch cubes. Put them into a large bowl of salted water and let soak, weighted (you can use a plate, with water-filled empty tomato cans on top), for at least 15 minutes. Drain, and press them fairly dry on and with paper towels. These days there is a lot of discussion about whether soaking eggplant is necessary. It’s meant to remove bitterness, and I will say that the water drained away is a muddy color. I do it, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to bother.

Cook the onion and pepper in the butter/oil mixture until the onion is golden and all is tender. I do this in the cast iron casserole I will use for serving, stirring with a silicone spatula. When the spatula easily cuts a piece of onion in half, it has cooked enough. Push the mix to one side, tilt the pan a bit, and add a bit more oil. Put in the garlic and let it bubble up in the oil puddle for a minute (don’t brown), then stir it into the rest.  Add the tomatoes and herbs and let this simmer until well blended, stirring occasionally. Taste it. Canned tomatoes are often salty, but you can add some sea salt if you think it’s needed, and some freshly ground pepper.

Add the eggplant to the tomato mixture and let simmer for 30 minutes or so. The eggplant should be well cooked and soft, but it will retain its shape.

Two ways with bread crumbs:

I used to use fresh white sandwich bread, Pepperidge Farm, food processed and stirred in a skillet with butter. This is, actually, very good. Five slices is probably enough, maybe half a stick of butter.

A more authentic topping: Combine in a bowl 1 cup or so of bread crumbs made from hard French bread, 1 tsp. pressed garlic, 1/2 cup finely chopped Italian parsley, 1 TB. chopped fresh basil or 2 tsp. dried, a scant tsp. kosher or sea salt, several grinds of black pepper and 1/3 to 1/2 cup olive oil. Start with the lesser amount of oil, adding enough to give the crumbs the texture of damp sand.

If you are serving this as a side dish and have prepared and refrigerated a day or so before, as you should, heat it again on the stove. Spread the bread crumbs on top and bake in a preheated 350 degree oven until the crumbs are browned, 30 minutes or so. The crumbs add a lot to the dish, don’t leave them out.  I added fresh chopped zucchini when I was reheating the stew, mostly because I had one in the refrigerator, and zucchini is a standard ratatouille ingredient. It isn’t at all necessary, though, and its main contribution was, frankly, just color.

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Written by
Pamela Osborne