Degrees of Separation

I love it when I stumble across recipes that require just exactly what I have in my fridge. This Persian saffron-spiced stew is not technically one of those, but it’s pretty damn close. 

Eats Well with Others is a blog by another member of my CSA. She is in the big leagues as far as food blogging goes. She writes guest posts on Marcus Samuelsson’s website. Her superior photography skills have gotten her past the velvet ropes of Tastespotting. And I’m pretty sure people who are not related to her read her blog. But most importantly to me, she writes about the food she makes using exactly the same things as are in my own fridge. In this case, the recipe was already a meatless adaptation of a recipe from Healthy Cooking for the Jewish Home: 200 Recipes for Eating Well on Holidays and Every Day, which had been written up on a couple of OTHER food blogs. Already several degrees removed from the original, I’ve altered it again by skipping the pasta & swapping lentils for the split peas (because I didn’t have any split peas), which I cooked very simply, just adding a little salt at the end.

Then onto the veggies. The onion gets sauteed in a little olive oil, and then in goes the chopped spinach right on top. 

Once it’s wilted, add the diced eggplant and bell peppers, plus salt & pepper. 

Once the eggplant is starting to get soft, add chopped tomatoes, cinnamon, and saffron. Go easy on the saffron, and not just because it’s wicked expensive–the flavor can easily overpower whatever else is in a dish, taking it from delicate to metallic before you know it.

Then mix in tomato paste that’s been diluted in hot water, and the lentils (drained). Squeeze some lemon juice on top and serve in soup bowls, drizzle on a little good olive oil, and eat with some bread. Ideally a focaccia that’s got some goat cheese on it or something, just so you don’t find yourself accidentally eating another vegan meal.

As noted in the original recipe, this would probably be great with pasta, too, but I liked it just as a summer stew. Filling, but not heavy at all.

Playing with Fire, part 1

A couple of weekends ago, a friend visiting my apartment noticed a postcard on my fridge, with a picture of a fire dancer. “Is this from Hawaii?” she asked. “Yes, my sister sent it to me.” “Funny,” she said, “my sister sent me the same one. It must be the designated postcard to send your sister from your Hawaiian vacation.” “Or maybe,” I suggested, “both our sisters know we’re obsessed with fire.” “True.”

It follows, then, that a recipe in Yotam Ottolenghi’s Plenty that specifically instructs you to burn an eggplant over the open flame on your stovetop (or, as he says, your “gas hob”), is going to have some appeal. The recipe in question is called burnt aubergine with tahini. I made it the first time just as a dip, but for dinner with C., the second time around we added the optional cucumber and tomato, which makes it into a really lovely summer salad. 

NB: if you don’t have a gas stove, this method of cooking the eggplant is not really an option to you. He suggests an alternative for electric “cookers,” putting them “directly under a hot grill for 1 hour, turning them a few times.” I’m not really sure that’s such a good idea–an hour under the broiler is going to turn anything to charcoal, but maybe “cooker” doesn’t mean what I think it does in British english. So either use your best judgment, or hunt down the US edition of Plenty and see how this recipe was translated for us Americans.

Start with an eggplant, or two if they’re small. Mine were the oriental variety, which are long and narrow and usually kind of curved. Set them over a flame. The official advice is to line the surrounding area with foil, but I decided not to bother because, as my mom says, I know who cleans the kitchen.

For this size eggplant, it takes maybe 8-10 minutes to get them to the appropriate level of charred, but if you’ve got a big Italian one, go a little longer. Either way, you’ll have to keep turning and moving them, so they are more or less evenly burned all over. 

You want the skin to be pretty well blackened, and the eggplants should be very squishy. If you’ve done it right, the skin will either flake off, or peel off in strips. Try not to think of the last terrible sunburn you got while you’re doing that.

Then you set the naked eggplants in a colander for about a half an hour. You can cut them into big chunks if you want, to help with the draining process (the idea being that you want some of the liquid that’s cooked out to go away). Then you chop it up into smallish bites and dump it in a bowl with some tahini, pomegranate molasses, lemon juice, minced garlic, parsley, and salt and pepper. And some water. And yes, I know you’re asking, “Why would I want to water this mixture down again after I just spent half an hour watching Frazier while we got RID of the water?” but Ottolenghi knows what he’s doing, so just let him make the rules, ok?

You can stop here if you like. You’ll have a really delicious, rich eggplant dip, a little sweet and a little sour, and even a little spicy if you minced the garlic very finely. Or if you’ve got a cucumber and some cherry tomatoes, keep going. You’ll be glad you did.

Halve the tomatoes and chop up the cucumber and mix them in. Drizzle the whole thing with some good olive oil, and if you are super prepared or have the best stocked kitchen in the world, sprinkle some pomegranate seeds on top. 

We had this with some ciabatta from Orwasher’s, and a glass each of sauvignon blanc and cucumber water–excellent complements both. 

And then there was dessert, of course, but that is to be saved for another post.

Alchemy

As most of you know, I’m quite fond of children’s literature, especially of the fantastical variety. The Harry Potter series, for one, has a place in my heart. But I have to say that one of my petty beefs with the American publisher is that they changed the title of the first book. It ought to have been Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, not the Sorcerer’s Stone. What is a sorcerer’s stone? I don’t know. But I do know that the philosopher’s stone is a mythical substance that is said to have the power to turn any metal into gold, a.k.a. alchemy. I learned about it first in one of my other favorite children’s books, Gone-Away Lake. Van Morrison even wrote a whole song about it. So I never really understood why Scholastic changed the title. Did they just like the idea of having the word “sorcerer” on the cover? Did they think American kids wouldn’t know the reference?

The preceding rant was brought to you by the power of word association. Because after making this dish, all I could think about was how magical it is to produce this glorious sauce:

from, basically, just a few eggplants:

and a very particular application of heat. It’s like starting with tin, doing a little magic with this philosopher’s stone thing, and presto! You have gold! Hence, alchemy. (See? There was a connection. There always is, even if it only exists in my head.)

I started with a pasta recipe from The Wednesday Chef, but I didn’t feel like pasta. I did, however, have a batch of cooked farro in my fridge, and a hunch that the sweet, soft, slow-cooked eggplant would play nicely against the chewy, nutty farro. (Spoiler alert: I was right.)

You’ll need a pound of eggplant, though this is only about 3/4. I don’t think the variety matters especially. Slice them into thick pieces, sprinkle with salt, and stack them up.

Which is a very clever way to salt your eggplant efficiently (not really necessary if it’s garden fresh, but a good step to draw out some of the water and bitterness if it’s store-bought) without using every single inch of cutting-board space you have available. Anyway, let it sit for 15 minutes, or more, or however long you have, then pat the slices dry with a paper towel and cut them into cubes.

Heat a smashed clove of garlic in olive oil–rather a lot of olive oil–over low heat.

When the garlic is fragrant, add the chopped eggplant to the pan:

stir it all up, and turn the heat to medium-high. Add some thyme and oregano, and let it cook until the eggplant starts to soften.

Add a cup of chicken stock (or vegetable stock, or water), bring to a boil, then turn back to medium-low and simmer, partially covered, about 20 minutes.

While the magic is happening, mince up some sundried tomatoes, and slice a handful of basil leaves (these are Opal basil) into ribbons.

Mash up the sauce with the back of your cooking spoon, season with salt & pepper, and add in the tomatoes and basil. All that’s left is to combine with the cooked farro (or barley, or wheat berries, or, you know, spaghetti).

And then you can perform another magic act: making something disappear.

Bittman to the Rescue

I was out of town from last Thursday until late Monday, and then had a work function (read: booze cruise) (on a boat called the Romantica, captained by a guy who goes by the moniker “Papa Fish”) (seriously) Tuesday night, so it wasn’t until Wednesday that I was able to get back into the kitchen.  And yes, we did cook a bit while we were at Copper, but honestly, cooking on an electric stove just doesn’t do it for me.

Which is maybe how I justified turning the oven to 400F for, oh, an hour or so last night.  (More than that, actually, because I made a peach galette, too.)  Let me remind you that the high temperature recorded in Central Park yesterday was 93F, and even by 8 o’clock, it was still registering at 86F.  Let me also remind you that I don’t let much stand in the way of a recipe I especially want to make.

The recipe, in this case, is Mark Bittman’s Layered Vegetable Torte, which happened to be the Minimalist column yesterday.  Almost suspiciously convenient, no?  That he’d write about a dish that required pretty much exactly what I got in the vegetable box this week?  How could I not make this recipe immediately?  Considering that I’m heading to the shore for the weekend tomorrow, a recipe that used up this many different ingredients was exactly what needed to be made.

First you need a pile of veggies.  It doesn’t actually matter so much what you’ve got on hand, though something squashy is recommended. I had an eggplant, some zucchini, a bulb of fennel, a longish greenish sweet pepper that I can’t remember what it’s called, some scallions and garlic scapes, a few cherry tomatoes, and a veritable bouquet of fresh herbs. 

All the veggies get sliced into pieces about 1/4″ thick, drizzled with olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper, and roasted at 400F for as long as it takes.  Turn once, after 10 or 15 minutes, and pull them out for good when they’re thoroughly soft.  Alternately, if you’re lucky enough to have a proper grill, that’ll work, too, just don’t tell me about it.  I love my grill pan, but with this quantity of veg, it’s just not big enough to get the job done in a timely manner.  Sigh.  One day, I will have a grill of my own, and a place to put it, and that day will be beautiful.  And you will all be invited over for dinner. (Oh, wait–you’re all already invited over.  So that much at least won’t change.)

I cut the scallions and scapes into pieces about 1″ long and roasted them, too, which in retrospect was maybe not the best idea.  I think it would have worked better if I’d kept them whole and put them in for only the last 10 minutes, which is what I did with the tomatoes. 

Anyway, get out your springform pan and oil it lightly.  You’ll either want to put it on a cookie sheet or wrap it in foil, because if it’s anything like mine, it’s not 100% watertight. Or oil-tight, rather.  Layer the veggies and chopped herbs, and chopped garlic if you’re using it.  Squish the layers together with a spatula, then sprinkle on a couple handfuls of breadcrumbs, and grate a pile of parmesan on top.  Do not skip the “drizzle with about 1 tablespoon oil” step, which is what I inadvertently did. 

Nothing awful will happen, but the cheese won’t brown quite properly without it (after 30 minutes in the oven, still at 400F).

So yes, 30 minutes.  Take it out, let it rest a bit, undo the springform, let it rest a bit more. 

Then slice it up, and serve with maybe some leftover polenta?

Oh, and about that galette: leftover bit of unrolled pie crust in the freezer, 4 peaches (peeled and chopped), juice of half a lime, a bit of honey, a tablespoon of butter cut into bits, wave the magic wand and bake for 40 minutes at 400F.  The sil-pat is essential here (thanks, mom!), or else I just don’t know how to prepare a galette, because the peach juice leaked out all over the place and it would have been a bitch and a half to clean off a cookie sheet.  I think I skimped on the honey, but other than that, it was delicious. 

Free Cookbooks Are a Mixed Blessing

Last week was really pretty awful. Here in NYC, it was around 90F every day, and humid as the inside of a dog’s mouth. In other words, it was August. That translated into Not Very Much Cooking, and Bad Records of What Cooking Was Done. We are now rectifying the situation.

I used to work at a publishing company. When that is one’s occupation, one acquires lots of free books, and when one is me, one acquires lots of free COOKbooks. This can be a lovely thing, except that sometimes one is not very discriminating and doesn’t remember that one’s kitchen doesn’t have infinite shelf space for books. So the upshot is that I have a stack of cookbooks I hardly ever open and one that was actually bought and paid for that I never close. But getting all these veggies that I am not super familiar with has given me an excellent excuse to pull some of them down and crack some spines.

Today, we start with Everyday Greens: Home Cooking from Greens, the Celebrated Vegetarian Restaurant by Annie Somerville. The recipe in question: Roasted Japanese Eggplant Salad with Pine Nuts and Capers

You start off with some sliced eggplant, tossed with a little olive oil, salt, pepper, and garlic. Roast away.

Meanwhile, you blanch some diced red onion and mix it with some red wine vinegar, which has the delightful effect of making the onion turn flourescent pink. (I will have to remember that trick.) Toss that with some toasted pine nuts (try not to burn yours), capers, and chopped basil.

Chop up the roasted eggplant and mix that in, along with some balsamic. Let it sit until you are too bored or hungry to bother with the half-hour marination the recipe calls for, then season with a little salt & pepper (plus more vinegar if you like extra tart).

Roasted Eggplant Salad
adapted from Annie Somerville’s Everyday Greens

1 eggplant, 3/4-1 lb., cut into 1/2″ rounds
2 Tbsp olive oil
1 clove garlic, minced
salt & pepper
1 small shallot, diced
1/2 Tbsp red wine vinegar (plus more if desired)
1 Tbsp capers, rinsed
1 Tbsp pine nuts, toasted
2 Tbsp chopped basil leaves
2 Tbsp balsamic vinegar

Preheat the oven to 375F. Toss the eggplant rounds with the olive oil, garlic, and a little salt & pepper. Spread them out on a cookie sheet and bake for 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, blanch the diced onion in boiling water for 20 seconds, then drain and mix with 1/2 Tbsp red wine vinegar. Mix in the capers, pine nuts, and chopped basil.

When the eggplant is ready (should be tender), cut each round into 1/4″ strips and toss into the bowl with the onions et al. Add the balsamic and stir it up. Taste to see if it needs more salt, pepper, or red wine vinegar. Ideally let marinate for a bit before you scarf it down.

All I Want Is a Giant Bowl of Curry, Made in a Giant Copper Curry Pot

I have basically no standards when it comes to Thai food. As particular as I can be about some foods, when it comes to Thai cuisine, you can take me to the cheapest little hole-in-the-wall and serve me a giant bowl of curry, or pad thai, or really anything, and I’ll be ecstatic. I have honestly considered closing my eyes and pointing at the menu at random to choose my dinner on occasion. Green curry? Red curry? Whatever. If it was made with lime, cilantro, and/or coconut, I’m going to love it.

The strange thing is that I often forget how simple it is to make a curry at home. So this evening, I picked up a jar of curry paste, some coconut milk, a couple of limes, and this bag of frozen aquaculture shrimp from the natural foods store across the street that sounded like eating them would not be contributing to the decimation of the seas.

And then I decimated my CSA delivery. One onion, half a jalapeño (we were told they are especially spicy this year)

both funny eggplants, the purple pepper and one of the long green ones

all sauteed up in some coconut oil, then drop in a couple tablespoons of the curry paste.

Once it’s sort of melted in, add a can of coconut milk and the pint of stir-fry stock that was stashed away in the freezer, and a teaspoon or three of fish sauce, and one of soy sauce. Oh, and some lime juice.

Once it’s all hot, dump in the bag of shrimp, and bring to a simmer, just long enough to cook the shrimp. Toss in a handful of sliced basil and serve over basmati rice.

Yum.

I considered using the soybeans as my protein, but frankly I don’t have the patience to shell them, so they are destined to be eaten just as edamame, at a later date. I was hoping this would make such a huge amount that I’d get more than a couple of lunches out of it, but it’s so good that I’m not sure how long it’ll last.

An Urge to Watch CGI Rats Cooking French Food

J. came over for dinner last night, and the plan was, essentially, ratatouille (a.k.a. pisto). We started off here: Eggplant-Pepper Tomato Sauce
and then ignored that completely and looked at a recipe card I’d written down after watching Wolfgang Puck make pisto on the Food Network maybe 7 or 8 years ago. It’s more of a list of ingredients than a recipe, but that’s what usually results in the best meals in my kitchen.

I believe it reads:
1 eggplant
1 zucchini
1 bell pepper
2 tomatoes
basil
oregano
olive oil
salt
red pepper flakes

combine all ingredients in a pot, cook for 30 minutes.

No, really. That’s the recipe.

We played fast and loose with the quantities, and varieties, nixed the red pepper flakes, and dumped in some fresh parsley instead of oregano because it turns out that is something I am out of. (Note to self: buy oregano) Then topped we it off with some eggs,

and served with some delicious rosemary bread. (Additional note to self: make this again next time I get fresh oregano, and make the Pain de Campagne, too.)

Then for dessert, I’d bought these gorgeous but not-quite-ripe peaches at the greenmarket, and I had a bottle of sauvignon blanc stashed in the fridge, so we pulled a quick David Tanis, sliced up the peaches, drizzled with just a little honey, and dumped in half the bottle of wine, and stuck the bowl in the fridge until after dinner. (This is another recipe from the Yellow Dinner meal I made for M. and R.) It’s basically white wine sangria, with the ratio of wine-to-fruit reversed. Delightful.

Picnics and French Grand Opera

This past week, my dear friend P. drove all the way east from Cleveland just to visit little old me. Well, that’s not strictly true. Really he drove all that way so he could spend some time at the shore, which I totally understand. And also so we could head up to Bard together to see our friend A. sing in Les Huguenots.

Anyway, I figured that since he was doing all that driving, the least I could do would be to put together a little lunch for our road trip on Wednesday. I started off with this recipe for Cold Steamed Eggplant with Sesame Soy Dressing from the New York Times, and truth be told I did not vary from it very much. I did, however, substitute my summer spinach for the arugula, and decided to steam it because I don’t think summer spinach is terribly good raw. (In fact, I am getting the impression that it’s technically not spinach at all, though searching for “summer spinach” brings up mostly recipes for salad and not much information about the genus, so I’m still not entirely sure. Maybe I should petition the farm to send us linnaean taxonomy for everything they’re growing. Because that is how my particular brand of OCD manifests itself.)

In any case, you start out with some eggplant, and steam it in chunks.

Then you cut it up into smaller chunks, and toss it with salt & pepper and the dressing.

I steamed and chopped my pseudo-spinach, too, and added that to the mix. Stick in the fridge for a while, then add some chopped cilantro and slivers of bell pepper. Oh, and some sesame seeds. Serve with some bread (rosemary bread was maybe not an ideal complement, but J. had bought some from Amy’s and it smelled really good).

Eat, ideally, on a picnic bench near a concert hall designed by Frank Gehry.

Good Food is Not Always Pretty

J. came over for dinner and some Alias tonight, and we made quesadillas, of a sort. Starting from a recipe from Bon Appetit. Carnivores though we may be, we vegetarian-ized it, mixing the marinade in with some black beans instead of chicken

and tripling or quadrupling the amount of eggplant and onions, and added in the lone purple pepper I received this week.

Also, in the interest of not buying something made with hydrogenated crap, we used lavash instead of tortillas.

On the whole, it came out very well. The lavash crisped up very nicely

although cutting it into slices was, um, problematic.

We had no trouble polishing off the entire thing, though. (I called it a Williams meal, on account of the purple-and-gold palette.) Good thing we made 2, so we each have lunch for tomorrow.

Black Bean & Eggplant Lavash Quesadilla
serves 4 people with generous appetites

1/4 cup water
2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro + more for salsa fresca
1-2 jalapeños, seeded and deveined
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice + more for salsa fresca
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 15-oz. can black beans, drained and rinsed
1 1/2 red onions, cut into 1/4″ slices
2 medium eggplants, cut into 1/4″ slices
1 bell pepper, seeded and deveined, cut into wedges
Olive oil
4 x 12″ rounds of lavash
1 c. grated sharp cheddar
Sour cream
1 tomato
1/4 c. yellow onion, chopped
salt & pepper

Puree together water, cilantro, jalepenos, lime juice, and olive oil in a blender. Add salt & pepper to taste, then mix together with the beans in a pot. Simmer over low heat, until liquid has reduced, while you are preparing the rest of the meal.

Turn on the broiler. Line a baking sheet with foil and put on it as many slices of eggplant, onion, and bell pepper as you can, brushing each side with olive oil and sprinkling with salt & pepper. Broil for a few minutes on each side, until cooked/browned to your liking. This will probably take a couple of rounds, depending on how many slices of veggies you have. Throw away the foil.

Turn the oven down to 450F. Brush one side of a lavash round with olive oil, and place that side down on the cookie sheet. Sprinkle half the cheese over it, then top with half the beans, and then half the veggies. Put the next lavash on top, brush the top with olive oil, and stick it in the oven for 10 minutes. (If you have 2 cookie sheets, you can cook everything at once. At the moment the count in my kitchen is just 1, so we did one at a time.)

While the quesadilla is cooking, make the salsa fresca. Chop up the tomato, and mix with chopped onion, a little cilantro, some salt, and some lime juice.

Cut the quesadilla into servings and top with the salsa and sour cream. My suspicion is that this does not make very good leftovers, but I will confirm that at a later date. Point being, eating it all at once is recommended.

Things I Never Ate as a Child

Growing up, we did not eat eggplant. I think my dad didn’t like it, and much like my mom’s distaste for beans, that preference was one of the deciding factors of our dinner menu. Then there were the foods that just didn’t cross anyone’s minds to cook, like Swiss chard. As an adult, I’ve explored the produce panorama pretty extensively, and discovered that I really love a lot of these things. In searching for a vegetarian lasagne recipe earlier this year, for example, I found one from Deborah Madison that is made with Swiss chard and eggplant, and it is absolutely delicious. Her note in the margin of the cookbook talks about how that particular combination brings out a synergistic depth of flavor in the dish, and I couldn’t agree more.

This week’s delivery included a couple of eggplants and a big bunch of chard. But it’s July. And it might well be unseasonably cool in New York City, but I’m not making lasagne. (I already baked zucchini bread today, this time with cashews and cocoa nibs, and that was quite enough use of the oven, thank you very much.) So I decided to adapt a recipe I found on Not Eating Out in New York.

First, though, a cucumber salad. This is something I ate a LOT of as a kid, because I didn’t care for lettuce, and it was an easy way for my mom to get some raw vegetables into my stomach. Our family recipe was impossibly simple–peeled cukes sliced thin on a mandoline, tossed with olive oil, red wine vinegar, a little salt and sugar, and sometimes some chopped tomato. Tonight I got fancy.

I had 2 slicing cucumbers, and 2 heirlooms of a variety called Boothby blonde. I took one of each.

Many recipes advise that you remove the seeds from your cucumbers (a spoon works well), but personally, I like the flavor with the seeds. So they stayed.

The recipe was another from David Tanis’s A Platter of Figs, and it might not have been a culinary match for the eggplant dish I was planning, but it sounded good. Mix the cuke slices with some julienned ginger, a little salt and pepper, some fish sauce, and some brown sugar. Let it sit while you dice up a hot pepper of your choosing (this is a Holland chile).

Toss in the pepper and squeeze over some lime juice.

Then cover and stick in the fridge until dinner is ready. In my experience, cucumber salad tastes better the longer you let it marinate. When you’re ready to serve it, toss in some chopped mint and basil and scallions.

And now, moving on to the real thing. And let me tell you, this is a recipe that’s going in the permanent repertoire. It’s one of those meals where I had to force myself to put the leftovers away before I served myself a third plate.

Start off with some eggplant. Any variety will do, though not the little baby ones.

Slice them about 1/2″ thick, sprinkle some salt over them, and let them sit a bit while you mix up the breadcrumbs.

I suppose you could use pre-seasoned breadcrumbs, but where’s the fun in that? So mix together some plain breadcrumbs with salt, pepper, and some chopped fresh herbs–thyme and savory worked beautifully, but rosemary would be great, and probably oregano, too. Or parsley. Hard to go wrong, really.

Cook the slices in olive oil, not much more than a minute each side. (I won’t admit how much olive oil I went through tonight, although I will say that I’m glad I hunted for regular as opposed to extra virgin. The smoke point is much higher.)

Set the eggplant aside and turn to the chard. You could do this step first, but that involves thinking ahead. Separate the stems from the leaves, and dice the stems as finely as you have patience to do.

Chop the leaves very roughly.

Cook the stem bits for a few minutes, and then add some sliced garlic cloves and white beans.

Once they chard is mostly tender and the beans are warmed through, add the leaves, stir, and cover. Stir a couple more times over the course of a few minutes, and you’re ready to go. The original recipe called for chopping up some capers and some sundried tomatoes as a garnish, which is perfectly nice but almost unnecessary.

In retrospect, a spicy Asian cucumber salad with a breaded Italian dish pairing is not the most, um, cohesive pairing. But both were delicious.

Eggplant Schnitzel with Swiss Chard and White Beans

2 eggplants (about 1 lb), sliced lengthwise, 1/2″ thick
3/4 cup breadcrumbs
1 tsp chopped fresh herbs (e.g. thyme, rosemary, oregano, savory, parsley)
1/2 tsp salt
pepper to taste
1 bunch Swiss chard, about 3/4 lb, leaves chopped coarsely, stems diced
2 c white beans
2 cloves garlic, sliced
1-2 teaspoons finely chopped sundried tomatoes
1 teaspoon capers, coarsely chopped
lots of olive oil

Sprinkle eggplant slices with salt and let sit. Mix breadcrumbs with salt, pepper, and herbs. Pat eggplant slices dry, and then dredge in breadcrumbs to coat each side. Cook in olive oil over medium heat, 1-2 minutes per side, until just cooked through and lightly golden. Remove to a plate and set aside.

Wipe any remaining breadcrumbs out of the pan and add some more olive oil. Raise the heat to medium-high and toss in the diced chard stems. Cook 4-5 minutes, until just tender, then add beans and garlic slivers. Cook 2-3 minutes, until beans are warmed through and chard is mostly cooked, then add chard leaves and stir. Cover, checking and stirring every few minutes until the leaves are cooked to your liking.

Serve eggplant slices over the bean/chard mixture, and garnish with the capers and sundried tomatoes.