Food You Can Eat: Moussaka

First things first:  Yes, it is Thanksgiving today, so if you were expecting a Thanksgiving Feast edition of FYCE, then you are clearly not someone who does well with the concept of planning ahead.  Besides, I’m not about to make a Thanksgiving feast so I can write it up for FYCE and then make another one for the holiday itself.  So, you get moussaka instead.

This was yet another desperate attempt on my part to try and find a way to plow through all of the damned eggplants from our garden.  I’m not a fan of the vegetable as a general statement and really had only been able to stomach it in the eggplant parm recipe.  We’ve already eaten two batches of eggplant parm in a row, so I can’t face a third one.  I’ve given away at least 10 eggplants to neighbors, and the local food bank currently is not accepting anything fresh from individuals.  But, as I’ve said before, I am a Cheap Bastard^TM and simply cannot bring myself to throw them out or otherwise waste them, as detestable as I find eggplant.  But I did find something that appeared relatively palatable so decided to give it a try.  It was, much to my surprise, very good.  Mostly, I think, because the eggplant was essentially invisible, both in texture and in taste.  So, if you somehow manage to find yourself with a bunch of eggplant that you don’t want to eat, this is the recipe for you.

A caveat before we get started:  This recipe is not for the faint of heart.  It is very involved and takes a long time to make.  If you don’t have literally a half a day to spend in the kitchen (and I mean literally, literally, not figuratively literally), then skip this one.

Here’s what you’ll need:

Three or four eggplants

Three White or Yellow Potatoes (thin skinned varieties only)

1 Lb Ground Beef

1 Lb Ground Pork (if you want to go Super Greek, then use two pounds of ground lamb)

Onion, diced

Garlic, minced

1 Small Can Tomato Paste

A Splash of Red Wine (optional—I don’t drink so didn’t have any in the house)

1 Stick Butter

½ Cup Flour

1 Qt Light Cream

4 Egg Yolks

Romano Cheese (again, for the Super Greek method—and if you can find it—use kefalotyri).

Crumbled Goat Cheese

Oregano

Cinnamon

Nutmeg

Allspice

Salt

Pepper

Olive Oil

Lemon Juice

A Shitload of Kosher Salt

I’m going to start by plagiarizing myself from the eggplant parm recipe because it still holds true for this recipe:  Cut off the top and bottom of the eggplant(s) and peel with a very sharp paring knife. The skin can get pretty leathery so using a dull knife or a potato peeler will generally result in a mangled eggplant and that’s just sad. Once your eggplant is peeled, slice it crosswise thinly. I mean very thinly, like less than a 1/4 inch. If the slices are too thick, then the eggplant will get slimy and friends don’t let friends eat eggplant slime. Yes, I said crosswise, not lengthwise. Cutting crosswise allows you to have more control over the thinness of the slices.

Once your eggplants are all sliced, get a few baking sheets and line them with a layer of paper towels.  (This is a bona fide PRO TIP, so pay attention.)  Place the eggplant slices in a single layer on top of the paper towels, then cover the slices with a shitload of Kosher salt.  Some people will tell you to salt eggplant because it will draw out the bitterness, but unless you’re using an heirloom variety that isn’t really true anymore.  However, what continues to be true is that the texture of eggplant can be quite repulsive if not handled properly.  We’re not frying the eggplant this time, so unless you want squishy eggplant (and may God have mercy on your soul if you do), this step is important.  Once the salt has been applied, cover with another layer of paper towels, stack the baking sheets on top of each other and then cover with an empty baking sheet and place something heavy on top, like a bunch of canned goods, or that sense of regret you feel after eating at Ruby Tuesday.  This will further help to express the liquid out of the eggplant slices.  Let this sit for at least an hour.

Separate out your four egg yolks into a small mixing bowl and set aside.  You’ll want them to get up to room temp before needing to use them.  Pour the egg whites into your dog’s bowl and brighten their day.

In the meantime, get the largest frying pan you have and brown the meat with a little olive oil.  A few minutes into the browning process, but before the meat is completely browned, add the onions and sauté until meat is completely browned.  Then add the garlic, cinnamon (not too much—a teaspoon at most), allspice (same), oregano, pepper, and tomato paste.  Stir until mixed thoroughly and then add your optional splash of wine.  For the Earth People:  you already know what a “splash” is.  For those of us who need adult supervision:  a “splash” is not any of the following:  a magnum, a bottle, a half bottle, a pint, a glass, or a mouthful.  If you still don’t understand what a “splash” is, then I recommend skipping this step and just keep drinking while you cook.  Let this simmer for about 15 minutes on lowest heat.  Then add lemon juice (one whole lemon should provide enough juice), turn off the heat and set aside.  You may need to add a little salt, but I’m guessing the tomato paste alone will be enough to do the trick.  Moussaka is pretty naturally salty anyway due to the use of the Romano.

While your meat is browning, slice your potatoes as thinly as you sliced the eggplant—no more than ¼ inch.  Then boil for about five minutes (they need to still be firm but not crunchy), drain and rinse in cold water to stop the cooking process.

When your hour is up, rinse the salt off of your eggplant slices and place them on another tray that is lined with either a paper towel or a food-grade cloth towel.  Don’t worry about being precise about them—just place more or less evenly onto the pan because you’ll be taking them outside to grill.

Turn your grill up full blast and keep the cover on to make sure the grill gets very hot.  Lightly brush one side of your slices with olive oil and place the oiled side down on the hot grill.  While these are grilling, lightly brush the other side of the slices so they are ready to turn over after about two minutes.  Grill for two minutes more and then remove from the grill.

Now, it’s time to separate the cooks from the chickenshits.  We’re making bechamel sauce.  If you just asked yourself, “what the hell is betch-AM-el sauce”, then please stop what you’re doing and immediately place yourself in protective custody.  You are a menace to society.

Pour the light cream in a small sauce pan and place over medium heat.  If you have an electric or induction stove, then directly heating the cream shouldn’t pose a problem assuming you stir it regularly.  If you’re using gas (lucky bastard) then it’s best to heat using the double boiler method because the heat isn’t as diffused.  Get the cream up to around 160 degrees.

When your cream is around 140 or 150 degrees, plop that stick of butter into a medium sized sauce pan and melt over medium heat.  When the butter is completely melted, gradually pour in the flour while stirring constantly with a whisk to make a roux.  The roux is necessary to thicken the bechamel sauce and is not pronounced “roucks”. 

We’re not making a brown roux, so as soon as the flour and butter are well mixed, turn the heat down to medium-low and slooooooowly pour in your steamed cream in a steady stream, while stirring constantly with the whisk.  If you pour it in too quickly, or inconsistently, then the roux will glob up and you will be a failure.  This is also why you steamed the cream in a small sauce pan so it’s not too big or heavy to handle while stirring into the roux.  Once everything is well combined, add the salt and nutmeg and turn off the heat.

Remember those egg yolks that are now at room temp?  Well, they’re not quite ready for prime time yet.  Now you need to temper the yolks, which is fancy-chef speak for making them warm enough so that they don’t immediately cook and curdle when added to the hot cream.  First, mix your yolks together using a whisk.  Then, using a ladle in one hand and a whisk in the other, slooooooowly pour two ladle’s worth of the cream/roux mixture into the yolks while stirring constantly.  If you do it right, you’ll have a lovely, light yellow mixture.  If you do it wrong, then you should just order delivery for the rest of your life.

Now, for the last time today, sloooooowly pour and whisk the tempered yolks back into the pot with the cream/roux mixture and turn off the heat because if it boils you will have come all this way just to fail in the most epic way possible.  Then you and Matt Ryan will have something in common.  When you’re done, you’ll have a beautiful bechamel sauce that literally nobody but you will be proud of.  Other people cannot possibly know our struggle.

By now you’re wondering what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into, but fear not because the end is nigh. 

Set your oven to 350 degrees.  While it is heating, assemble the moussaka by placing a layer of overlapping potato slices at the bottom of a 9×13 glass pan.

Followed by a layer of overlapping eggplant.

Followed by all the meat.

Followed, generally speaking, by another layer of overlapping eggplant.  If, like me, you wound up with more potatoes than you needed and not enough eggplant, then improvise by placing the potato and eggplant slices in alternating fashion to complete the next layer.  Then, sprinkle half of your goat cheese and Romano on top.

Then pour your bechamel over the top of everything in a nice even manner and top with the remainder of your goat and Romano cheeses.

Then stick that baby in the oven and bake for 45 minutes (this is where your nap comes in), or until nicely golden like this:

Let it sit for at least 15 minutes before serving.  I had no desire to make anything else after all that, so serve it with a nuked hot pocket for all I care.