My friends know how to get my attention. I’m usually slow (at times deliberately so) in returning messages, but when there’s mention of fresh produce, especially the hard to find or unusual kind, I’m on to it in a flash. When one texted if I was interested in some “odd-looking” eggplants, I was jolted out of my siesta. “Odd how?” I fired back.
“They’re round and quite big,” he said. “I have some right here; wanna take a look?”
Did I? I told him to bring the whole lot over. Could it be? I had never seen Thai purple eggplants in markets hereabouts, or even at Metro or Rustan’s when I’m in Cebu. But there they were in the flesh. And most amazing of all was that they were grown locally, if on the northern side of the island. The first chance I got (or at least the moment Jenny was available, because I do not drive), we headed for the mountains of Mahaplag.
The place was only about five kilometers from the national road, but it was uphill all the way and high enough for us to see the Agas-agas Bridge in the far distance below. We stopped when we literally ran out of road, where we met our contact. After a mutual friend made the introductions, Adrian led us along a mud trail hugging the side of a hill. It did not take long before we reached his family’s garden, small but lush and well-tended. Good thing he had told us earlier that the eggplants had been harvested that morning, because it was the one spot I focused on and noticed almost bereft of fruit.
Like Eva says, be resourceful enough and life in the mountains isn’t all that bad. I may disagree on the finer points, but she knows whereof she speaks. These people had planted within their limited, topographically challenging acreage most of what they needed for basic sustenance. It could not have been easy — what is, in this country? The notion of living off the land only sounded romantic if you also didn’t have to work it.
Me, I was a bit abashed at having to pay a mere ₱80 for almost three kilos of eggplant, knowing that the regular elongated variety retailed for ₱60 a kilo back home, but Adrian’s mother insisted it was the price at-source and threw in a handful of incredibly fresh bell peppers to sweeten the deal (as if it wasn’t already bargain enough). She’s about our age, although leaner and a lot fitter than any of us are (or could hope to be). Life is hard enough up in the mountains without having to gussy up your food near to the point of being unhealthy — like below, I guess:
I’m mostly talking about the pasta. Still, would you really bother with the rest of this construction? Eggplant parmigiana may be a rustic Italian dish, yet there are all kinds of simple. Even the intermediate act of dredging the eggplant in flour prior to frying is one step too many for some (“We fry them plain, then dip in toyo with kalamansi,” said Adrian), not to mention that I prefer semolina to regular flour (I like the texture). There’s a point where involvement (and/or cost) trumps any extra deliciousness, and it’s all very subjective. We often refer to it as “making do.”
Make no mistake about it: I’ll take fried eggplant over parmigiana any old time — and round over regular tawong when it comes to both dishes (it is firmer and meatier). To make parmigiana, alternately layer the fried eggplant with tomato sauce and cheese as you would lasagna, bake, and serve with pasta and/or crusty bread. “Are you sure this is eggplant?” my friends asked. “Tastes like meat.” I know how to get their attention, too.
This post has no comments.
Post a Comment