The eggplant experiment.

Earlier this year, while visiting my mom in San Luis Obispo, Calif., she paid me a compliment I carry with me. It hides beneath my mess of hair, about an inch from my ear, nearly in the back crook of my neck, so it's easy to forget about completely. But every once in a while, it asserts its presence in a whisper: "Who would've thought," mom said, "that my daughter would be a great chef?" Her pride simultaneously warmed my heart and filled me with anxiety, because even though I've come a long way since I nearly burned the house down attempting to cook bacon for the first time at age 14, I feel like I'm harboring a dark secret: most of the time, I have no idea what I'm doing. I don't think I'm supposed to say things like that, but it's true. My brother says I'm an idea person, which means simple thoughts often lead to hours spent online researching how to pull said ideas off, or asking around to get a feel for what people I trust might do. I usually do things my own way, despite my findings, and lately I've been lucky.

A few weeks ago, confronted by a dozen or so eggplants from my CSA share, I asked a coworker if she knew a way to preserve them. She suggested pickling, which sounded like a fine idea, except I've only quick pickled a few things -- garlic and watermelon rind -- so, of course, I had no idea where to start. My online research turned up a wealth of recipes and stories; like so many age-old recipes, each was slightly different. That, of course, empowered me to do what I do best. So, I took to the kitchen, and began to experiment. I used four or five small eggplants, thinking it would yield more than one jar; I should've known they would shrink. Ever the optimist, I reasoned it was good my test batch was small. It might, after all, taste awful, or worse make me sick (in all my reading, I found only one mention of botulism, and it was brief, essentially suggesting following the proper precautions and consuming eggplant within a few weeks. I also read that, if stored in the refrigerator, pickled eggplant is good for up to one year).

Thankfully, the experiment was a delicious success -- the eggplant was just vinegary enough and surprisingly firm in texture, although dripping with a slightly spicy olive oil. I'd added a few cloves of garlic to the pickling mixture, and crushed red pepper flakes as well as a small hot pepper to the oil. I also had added some fresh basil (this was a few weeks ago), which provided a gorgeous -- if not slight -- aroma. I ate the entire jar in one day (on a sandwich, with some mozzarella, as a side) and used the left-over oil to dress salads. Then, as soon as I got my hands on more eggplant, I made another batch. I spiced the second batch differently, using dried herbs instead of fresh and omitting the garlic, and it was just as good. I served it at breakfast the other day, something I'd never thought to do. Again, we ate almost the whole jar. Good thing I had doubled the recipe.

Pickled eggplant packed in olive oil

Ingredients

4-5 small eggplants
Sea salt
1 cup white wine vinegar
2 cups water
2 cloves garlic, peeled and whole (optional)
Crushed red pepper flakes
Dried oregano
Extra-virgin olive oil

Slice eggplants into silver-dollar sized rounds, put slices in a colander, and sprinkle generously with sea salt. Weigh slices down with a plate and allow to sweat for at least four hours (when sweating eggplant, be sure to put a deep plate under your colander to catch the run-off). This tenderizes the flesh of the eggplant and helps reduce bitterness. Remove excess moisture with a towel.

In a medium sauce pan, combine vinegar, water and garlic. Bring to boil.

In batches, boil eggplant slices for approximately 3 minutes. Set aside to cool.

In a sterilized jar, tightly layer cooled eggplant slices and chosen herbs.

Cover in extra-virgin olive oil.

Store at room temperature until opened. Pickled eggplant can keep in the refrigerator for up to a year.

Yields one 12-ounce jar.