Bert’s Baba – Baba Ganoush

I learned to cook mainly from my father, Bert, who was the primary cook in my family growing up. I cooked all kinds of dishes with him. I learned to make spanakopita (Greek spinach pie) and baklava, both with thin, buttery layers of phyllo dough. Sometimes in winter we would simmer up a big pot of Julia Child’s flavorful Soup au Pistou. We frequently went the Chinese route; rock-sugar chicken and vinegar-slithered green cabbage were my favorites. We could cook a batch of spice cookies from start to finish, (including 12 minutes in the oven) in about 15 minutes total. And at least once or twice a week we made refried beans with homemade tortillas, one of our standard, weeknight dinners.

After I left the house and started cooking for myself and others in college, I would frequently call home frantically searching for a recipe that I wanted to make that evening. More often than not, my father would give me the main steps in very general terms, and provide a vague list of the ingredients. “Maybe a clove or two of garlic and some oil” he would say. Rarely would he provide me with detailed directions or the exact amounts of each ingredient. He assumed I would know what to do and clearly he either didn’t know exactly how much of each ingredient he used, improvising as he cooked, or he assumed I would figure it out on my own. If I pushed him and asked if maybe it was a tablespoon of this or that, he would simply reply “Yeah, sure,” or maybe “That sounds like too much.”

While as a young cook I found it frustrating, it probably turned me into a better cook. I discovered the purpose of each ingredient and appropriate ratios of one to another. I learned new techniques, often from trial and error, and how to feel my way through a recipe. It made me experiment with flavors and ingredients, and I developed an intuition in the kitchen, which serves me well to this day. I rarely measure while I cook, and I’ve learned to substitute ingredients if one is not on hand.

I recently looked at the old 3 x 5 card on which I wrote down my father’s recipe for baba ganoush. True to form, there are three different versions, each with different quantities of ingredients. But at least the list of ingredients is the same for all three. Of course, I have modified the recipe; I make it slightly different than he does in all three versions. So while I’m calling this recipe Bert’s Baba, he actually might quibble with my technique.

Bert’s Baba Ganoush

My father often brings baba ganoush as an appetizer to a friend’s house for dinner or a party. Served with fresh pita or pita chips, this spiced eggplant dip, while filling a role similar to hummus, has something hummus is missing. Maybe it is the silkiness on the tongue. Or perhaps it’s the smokiness of the roasted eggplant. Either way, baba ganoush is vegan, good for you, and it makes an excellent appetizer or part of a mezze platter or even a tasty lunch.

about 45 minutes, including roasting time, makes about 2 cups

3 large eggplants, stem removed and cut in half lengthwise

1 – 2 cloves of garlic, peeled and pressed

¼ tsp. ground cumin

2 – 3 Tbsp. tahini

juice of ½ lemon

small handful of flat-leaf parsley

½ tsp. salt

1 Tbsp. olive oil

1. Turn the oven to broil.
2. Place the halved eggplants on a sheet pan, skin side up, and broil on the upper oven rack for a half hour. The skin will char and the inside will be soft. Allow to cool.
3. Scoop out the inside, avoiding most of the skin, and put into a kitchen towel or cheesecloth. Adding a few small charred pieces of skin will add to the smoky flavor of the baba ganoush. Squeeze out the sometimes bitter juice by twisting the cloth with the pulp inside of it.
4. Put the squeezed eggplant pulp and all other ingredients in a food processor fitted with the metal blade or a blender. Blend to a smooth purée.
5. Taste and adjust seasonings, adding more salt or lemon juice as needed.

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