If you like the crisp edges of lasagne, the soaked croutons, the whipped cream that gets icy around the chocolate scoop - you’re in the right place.
Hi folks! It’s been a bonkers week in my house - husband traveling, 3 boys in my bed, no sleep. I’ve really scraped the bottom of the parenting barrel. But good weeks and hard weeks all lead me to the same place: the kitchen.
I made a big batch of ratatouille, which we’ve eaten on rice, pasta, toast. I adore ratatouille. At its best, it’s lush, sweet and smacking. It tastes like summer out of breath, at the end of her 800m dash. At its worst, it’s still good (if you pick out the eggplant).
Ratatouille is famously simple: five summer vegetables stewed in olive oil till soft, herbs optional. But as is sometimes the case with simple, it’s not straightforward. There is, I’ve noticed, a difference between simple dishes and simple recipes: A loaf of sourdough is a simple dish, but it has a wildly sensual recipe. Ratatouille is a simple dish, too, but to make it special, you’ve got to vibe with your veg.
Maybe you just want to make something mindlessly for dinner. Often, I do. But I also love to cook when the moment is right and I’m moved by the produce. And I believe there’s enough of you out there who are curious/capable and want to get intimate with veg in a way that only cooking, eating, and cooking again can allow. Most of all, I know that you’re all hankering for a soft, face full of summer before it’s over.
‘Recipe’ might be the wrong word for what’s below. Consider it a reporting of things I’ve seen, mistakes I’ve solved, goals for lunch, an ask to hang with me by the stove for an hour taking care of what’s in your pot. I did my best to explain the things we might only notice on our third try, so your stew is worthy of your ingredients and your time.
There are a million ways to skin this cat, traditions that have been passed down, and instant pot hacks too, I bet. Make of it what you will; a recipe can only take you so far. My hope is that this is a place for your own cooking to begin… and ratatouille at the end of August is a most worthy place.
Summer face full
RATATOUILLE
The fool's errand of a ratatouille recipe must headnote with an acknowledgment that we’re all cooking with different pots and different veg. Ratatouille is ultimately about celebrating what you have while it lasts, not being a pedant and weighing an eggplant that doesn’t fit on your scale. I’ve given some measures and times in case that sort of guidance boosts confidence, but please lean on ratios (around equal amounts of each veg cut into equally-sized pieces) and use this outline of the four moments of cooking to figure out how to tango with your ingredients.
Mine isn’t a put-it-all-in-the-pot-at-once approach. I add the veg at different times to accommodate and accentuate their best natures. I adjust the flame under the pot and take the lid on and off to soften/sweeten/reduce with the goal of developing two poles of flavor: sweet and rich // bright and fresh, in four key stages. We’re showing summer’s range in a ratatouille that is intense and balanced, unified and on the verge of collapse.
1. Lay a sweet base with onions and peppers. All of the sweetness and depth in this ratatouille comes from this first stage. The objective here is to draw out the vegetables’ water and cook it off so we can caramelize their sugars. Salting the veg from the start helps to pull out the water, and keeping the lid on creates condensation that will allow you to draw out more water and extend the softening stage before caramelization begins. It's important not to rush the sweating and softening: when the water is gone the onions and peppers will sweeten deeply and fast. We’re not looking to brown them, but rather to develop a sticky fur of sugars on the base of the pan. Before moving to the next stage, the onions and peppers should be soft, sweet and dry - retaining their shapes and (in the case of the peppers) their skins.
2. Mellow the crazed intensity of that base with zucchini. Zucchini here is cast in the role of tender filler. We harness its liquid to deglaze the sticky pepper and onion sugars and really make the peppers slump. To encourage the zucchini to spit out its water quickly, before our sugars burn, we turn the heat up high and put on the lid. We can remove the lid when the zucchini has released enough liquid to wade in. Before moving on, the zucchini should be completely soft.
3. Add fresh, zippy high notes and juice with ripe tomatoes. Tomatoes are the flavor counterpoint that balances the base. We cook them just enough that they give up their juice but not their acidic edge. At the end of this stage, the ratatouille should be wet and immaculately seasoned.
4. Fill eggplant with flavor. Eggplant is to ratatouille as a roast potato is to a pool of gravy. Its role here is to host all the flavors we’ve developed. But eggplant is a diva, so I go the length to roast it (sorry!) before folding it through. Roasting it at a high heat makes sure the eggplant takes on very little oil and puffs into a custardy sponge - ideal for absorption.
Serves 4-6 (if you scale this recipe up you will need to use a larger pot, or expect longer cook times and a sludgier result)
2 medium yellow onions (~.75 lb-1 lb)
3 red peppers (~1 lb)
2 medium zucchinis (~1 lb)
1 large, dense eggplant (~1-1.5 lbs)
1 large tomato or 2 medium ones (~1 lb)
Two stalks of basil
4 tbsp olive oil
Heat your oven to 450F and turn to your veg. Chop your eggplant into one-inch dice, and right before you put it in the oven, toss it with a teaspoon of salt and 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Spread it out in a single layer on a sheet tray and put it in the oven. Roast it until it’s totally soft inside but holds its shape, ~20 minutes.
While the eggplant is roasting, de-seed the peppers and chop them and the onions into one-inch pieces. Put both into a 10”+ pot (low sided if possible) with 2 tbsp olive oil, one stalk of basil, and 2 teaspoons of salt. Stir to coat everything, cover with the lid and turn the flame on high. Stay connected to what’s going on here as you chop the next veg. High heat, lid on, lots of peeking. You want action in the pot as long as there’s steam and water protecting what's inside. Whenever you check the progress, hold the lid over the peppers/onions so condensation drips back in, extending the softening time. When the veg is tender and beginning to dry, remove the lid and turn the heat down, stirring as sugars begin to stick and fur on the base of the pan. It’ll take around 20 minutes to develop the sweetness we’re looking for before we add the zucchini.
As the peppers/onions cook, chop zucchini into one-inch dice. When the peppers/onions are soft, sweet, and dry, add the zucchini to the pot. Close the lid and turn the heat to high so the zucchini releases water quickly, deglazing sugars before they burn. When the zucchini has released enough water that it’s wallowing, remove the lid and continue to cook.
While the zucchini simmers, chop the tomatoes into one-inch dice. When the zucchini is tender enough that you can squash it with a spoon, after about ten mins, add in the tomatoes and any juices that have run onto the cutting board. Simmer over high heat with the lid off until the tomatoes are no longer distinct, about five minutes.
Remove the basil stalk - it has given up its flavor to the stew. Tear the remaining fresh basil leaves and stir them through (it’s important to add them now, while the stew is still hot so they can infuse and wilt. Basil added later as pretty garnish will be at odds with the unity of the stew). Taste for seasoning and add more salt if necessary - I added another teaspoon here, but this is your call.
Fold the roasted eggplant through the stew as gently as you would incorporate whites into a souffle. At this point everything is so soft that vigorous mixing will break down the veg too much. Turn off the heat and let the ratatouille cool to body temp. This step is truly necessary: it takes at least an hour or so for the flavors and juices to exchange and settle.
Taste it again: Want it sweeter? Add a pinch of sugar. Want it brighter? Add a splash of red wine vinegar. Want it sweeter and brighter? Add a few drops of aged balsamic... but don’t tell the French!
EAT WITH a pour of your best olive oil, a large chunk of feta, any starch or grain, lamb chops, or grilled fish.
This is a brilliant ratatouille. The intensity of flavour is off the charts. And your writing about it is just beautiful: a late summer treat in itself.
Your writing gave me a face full of happiness and mad desire for ratatouille! Thank you.