Last night, Ben and I met his parents at The Met. After wandering around for a few hours, we put them on the crosstown bus back home and went off to find some food. If you’ve been with me long enough, you’ll remember that before I was a Brooklyn girlie, the Upper East Side was my stomping ground. I lived in an itty bitty studio on 84th Street and 2nd Avenue for four years, between the ages of 24 and 28, and I often look back at that time incredibly fondly.
Walking down 2nd Ave, I kept remarking to Ben that I wish I would have appreciated my time up there more. I remember feeling so behind when I was living uptown—like all my friends were settling down and finding relationships while I was going on date after date with often bleak results. Now, at 33, I’m where I wanted to be back then. But last night I still found myself feeling nostalgic, wondering what life would be like if I could go back in time and enjoy myself more.
Ben likes to say all the time that you can’t dip your toe in the same river twice. And he’s right. And while standing in line for gelato, and looking at all the 20-somethings that had taken my place uptown, I realized that I wouldn’t fit in there anymore, anyway. Things had moved on. There was no way for me to appreciate what I had almost a decade ago, and I wouldn’t trade my life with Ben to go back experience what single life on the Upper East Side could be like, of course.
So instead of feeling nostalgic, or projecting myself forward into some nebulous future when Ben and I are living in a house with a graphic design studio and a plentiful tomato garden, I’m trying to appreciate what I have in the moment. I turned the heat down under these eggplant as I was frying them to get them perfectly golden brown instead of scalding them in oil to get them to cook faster. I went to my meager basil garden on our window sill to pick a few leaves and appreciated the fact that I can grow even the smallest bit of produce now. And I’m writing this from our kitchen table, watching Edie side-eye us and she patiently waits for her walk, with a little jazz playing while we drink our coffee.
I know one day I will look back on this time and feel nostalgic for it. So I’m trying to appreciate it now. And this eggplant rollatini, which is incredibly easy to make and tastes like a dream, definitely helps with living in the moment.
INGREDIENTS
2 large eggplant
5 large eggs
2 cups ricotta
2 cups shredded mozzarella
1/4 cup parmesan, plus more for topping
1 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp parsley
Salt and pepper, to taste
Olive oil
INSTRUCTIONS
Slice the eggplant longways so it’s about 1/2 inch thick. Beat 4 large eggs in a shallow dish. Add about 1/4 inch of olive oil to a shallow skillet and heat.
Dredge each piece of eggplant in your eggs, letting the excess drip off. Place them in your heated olive oil and fry until golden brown—about 4 minutes each side. Allow to drain on a paper towel-lined dish.
While the eggplant is draining, mix your ricotta with 1 cup mozzarella cheese, parmesan, garlic powder, salt, pepper, and parsley. Mix well and taste, adjusting for seasoning if needed. Once properly seasoned, mix in your last egg.
Add enough tomato sauce to the bottom of an oven-safe casserole pan so that it coats the bottom. Add a sprinkle of mozzarella.
Working one at a time, lay your eggplant out on a cutting board and add a dollop of the ricotta mixture to the wide end. Gently roll the eggplant, starting with the ricotta side, from one end to the other. Place seam-side down in the casserole dish, and repeat with your other eggplant.
When all your rolls are nestled in tightly, top with a little more sauce, the rest of the mozzarella, and a sprinkle of parmesan. Cook, covered with foil, for 20 minutes, and then uncover for an extra 10. Allow to sit for 5-10 minutes after removing from the oven before serving.
Obsessed. The writing. The recipe. Here here!