Layering Until the Cows Come Home

One of my guests recently complimented me on the surprising (to him) layers of tastes he found in our soul food dishes. I think it was a Pyrrhic compliment, a lead up to a subsequent critical comment that “this dish does not have the layers of complexity I have come to expect in your cooking.” Hence, my meditation on layering.

First of all, a confession: I could never be, for example, a wine connoisseur. I don’t have the nose for it. In a similar vein: Did you ever see that episode on Gordon Ramsay’s “Hell’s Kitchen,” where contestants have to identify various foods blindfolded? I would have failed that test miserably. I don’t have what it takes. So the layering of food tastes in our soul food kitchen is a bit of a dicey proposition for me. Still, I do what I can, within my limits of what I sense, literally, will work well. Bear in mind that growing up, my idea of heaven was a burger smothered in spicy mustard. In short, subtlety is lost on me, perhaps.

Still, I try, with a portion of the clues being visual. This particular roasted eggplant dish starts innocuously enough with slices of eggplant (which, unlike US varieties, is almost foolproof), awash in olive oil, sea salt and pepper, roasted on a baking sheet in the oven for about 35 minutes or so. Then comes the dressing, which is itself a compound proposition: first you make a lemon reduction sauce and transform it into a paste. Then you mix the paste with your choice of herbs (parsley, cilantro, dill, mint, etc.) with (again)olive olive oil, salt, and pepper. And this whole concoction is then mixed with the eggplants. Then a smattering of pickled chilis and sumac seasoned pickled red onions. Then, the layer of toasted nuts (pumpkin, pine, almond, cashew, pistachio, take your pick). And then some shopped greenery (celery leaf, coriander, chive, parsley).

I count about 8 layers here, with various components of tastes and crunchiness. Can I pick our each layer? Sure, knowing what I know about what went into the dish. Could I pass a blindfold test? Don’t even ask.