|A big pot of these sweeties|
How do you make the best eggplant lasagna? Well, first you make the sauce with home-grown-from-seed Rapreco Paste tomatoes simmered into a lovely thickness and fragrance that just sweeps you off your feet when you add the garlic (again grown over the past year in amongst the strawberry plants) and the Italian seasonings. This sauce tasted so vibrant I was ready to quit right then and there and just eat it alone with a spoon. How much did I make? Well, enough that I thought there would be some left over. There was none--perhaps because the cook sampled it too frequently.
|6 or 7 inches long|
You'll need eggplant, about 6 or 8 little ones, almost too many to carry in from the garden and all that were big enough to pick--must have had a pound or more of eggplants--homegrown, of course. This is the first time a recipe and eggplant from the garden have come together in my kitchen. What a happy wedding it was! They were cubed and tossed with homemade rosemary olive oil into a huge frying pan to sauté and soften. A good dose of salt, pepper and oregano sparked them up before they were set aside to wait for the assembling.
|Bake until bubbling or until the fragrance is so intoxicating you can|
no longer resist!
A pint of cottage cheese stirred with two eggs fresh from Miss Katy Perry Chicken and Nina Simone Hen and 1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese hung out with the pound of grated mozzarella cheese. My cupboard yielded a package of lasagna noodles that didn't require boiling first, so at that point we were ready to roll.
Assembly: in layers--sauce, noodles, cottage cheese mix, eggplant, mozzarella cheese, sauce, noodles, etc. ending with sauce and cheese. Cover the pan with foil and bake for about 30 minutes.
One of the Things I get to do today, perhaps, but maybe not, is turn this general outline into a more straight forward recipe. The beauty and abundance of the garden don't fit all that well into a proscribed shape and form. So play with what you have. Let the garden tell you how much is enough to put in your stew or sauce or lasagna. Love the abundance of your land even if it's only a window box. All things are possible.