"Provençal cooking is home cooking: simple, faithful to the ingredients." (after Jean-Baptiste Reboul.)
Eggplant with smoked bacon, garlic, rosemary, and red onions
A little ode to embraced simplicity: a Provençal dish for a large table, to be served as a generous side or a rustic main, when the eggplant becomes the lead character.
Temps de préparation
Preparation time: 30 minutes
Cooking time: 30 minutes
Cooking time: 30 minutes
Ingrédients
For 4 people
4 to 6 medium eggplants, firm and with smooth skin
200 to 250 g of smoked bacon, thickly sliced
3 shallots
2 fresh red (or white) onions with their green stems
5 large garlic cloves (1 crushed, the rest unpeeled)
5 to 6 sprigs of fresh rosemary
1 small handful of fresh thyme
1 small handful of fresh savory
1 to 2 tablespoons of olive oil
Freshly ground pepper
Fine salt to be adjusted at the end of cooking
Optional: 1 small glass of dry white wine (12 cl) for deglazing
Optional: 1 to 2 ladles of reduced homemade tomato coulis
4 to 6 medium eggplants, firm and with smooth skin
200 to 250 g of smoked bacon, thickly sliced
3 shallots
2 fresh red (or white) onions with their green stems
5 large garlic cloves (1 crushed, the rest unpeeled)
5 to 6 sprigs of fresh rosemary
1 small handful of fresh thyme
1 small handful of fresh savory
1 to 2 tablespoons of olive oil
Freshly ground pepper
Fine salt to be adjusted at the end of cooking
Optional: 1 small glass of dry white wine (12 cl) for deglazing
Optional: 1 to 2 ladles of reduced homemade tomato coulis
Préparation
I. The Basket
"An eggplant that weighs nothing is like a story without a plot: polished, but hollow."
At the market, we choose eggplants as we would choose characters: deep violet, almost black, sometimes striped, firm to the touch, skin smooth and shiny. We set aside the ones that sag—a sign they have lived too long—and keep those that feel heavy for their size, a promise of dense, juicy flesh capable of holding up to cooking.
We add fresh onions, white or red, with their stems standing tall like pennants. A sweet, mild bulb, and long aromatic stalks that act as Provençal scallions—definitely do not throw these away! It would be a household crime to waste them for our omelets and salads.
In the garden, we gather the herbs: rosemary that pricks the fingers a little, peppery savory, thyme in little tufts.
This fresh bouquet will bring a scent of the garrigue that no jar of dried herbs could ever equal.
II. Kitchen Preparations
We cut the smoked bacon, rind included, into large cubes destined for a beautiful golden sear. If one prefers to remove the rind at the table, slice it separately: it will cook with the rest to impart flavor and richness before being discreetly set aside when serving.
We peel and finely slice the shallots. We cut the eggplants into large, uniform cubes for even cooking and good texture in the pot.
We prep the fresh onions: the bulb into slices, the green stalks into segments or wide rings, using them generously: they provide the dish’s green freshness.
Finally, the garlic: one clove crushed to quickly diffuse its fragrance, the others left in their skins to flavor more gently. These are "the shy ones": they perfume without showing themselves, and some diners only discover them at the end of the meal. We, however, will crush them immediately on the plate to bind the juices from the pot.
III. Preparation
In a large pan or Dutch oven, gently heat a spoonful of olive oil.
Add the sliced shallots, letting them melt slowly until translucent and supple, without browning: a small shallot fondue, sweet and confident.
On this bed of shallots, place the large cubes of smoked bacon and the strip of rind. Brown them over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until they are well colored and have rendered some of their fat: noble matter for the flavor and sheen of the dish.
Then add the eggplant cubes and mix carefully to coat them in the bacon fat and the cooking juices. Cook over medium heat, stirring regularly, until they become tender and melting, without falling apart.
At this stage, a small glass of dry white wine can be added: it deglazes the bottom, dissolves the browned bits, and adds a lively note that lightens the fat without masking the perfume of the herbs. The juice gains depth, correcting the rhythm of the market when the vegetables aren't quite at their peak.
When the eggplants have begun to cook well, lower the heat, add the crushed garlic and the whole cloves in their skins, and tuck five or six beautiful sprigs of fresh rosemary into the middle of the eggplant and bacon. Let it simmer gently so the rosemary infuses the pot with Provence.
Halfway through cooking, when the eggplants are very tender but not yet candied, add the savory and fresh thyme, stripped from their stems between your fingers, as well as the fresh red onions and their green stalks, roughly sliced. Mix, then continue over low heat until the eggplants are completely melting, the bacon crispy on the surface, and the herbs and onions have perfumed the whole.
For those who cannot conceive of a Southern dish without tomato, a little homemade tomato coulis, reduced separately, can be added for a more bound sauce and a more Mediterranean color. A little weary of seeing tomatoes invited everywhere, I prefer to let the eggplant, bacon, herbs, and fresh onions hold the stage alone.
Taste, adjust the pepper, and—only if necessary—add a little salt; the bacon has already largely done its share of seasoning.
IV. Serving
Serve piping hot as a main course, with country bread, rice, or polenta, or as a side dish for grilled meat—rabbit, chicken, or lamb, depending on the season and appetite.
Like many slow-cooked dishes, this preparation handles being made in advance and gently reheated the next day very well; it gains even more texture and flavor.
"An eggplant that weighs nothing is like a story without a plot: polished, but hollow."
At the market, we choose eggplants as we would choose characters: deep violet, almost black, sometimes striped, firm to the touch, skin smooth and shiny. We set aside the ones that sag—a sign they have lived too long—and keep those that feel heavy for their size, a promise of dense, juicy flesh capable of holding up to cooking.
We add fresh onions, white or red, with their stems standing tall like pennants. A sweet, mild bulb, and long aromatic stalks that act as Provençal scallions—definitely do not throw these away! It would be a household crime to waste them for our omelets and salads.
In the garden, we gather the herbs: rosemary that pricks the fingers a little, peppery savory, thyme in little tufts.
This fresh bouquet will bring a scent of the garrigue that no jar of dried herbs could ever equal.
II. Kitchen Preparations
We cut the smoked bacon, rind included, into large cubes destined for a beautiful golden sear. If one prefers to remove the rind at the table, slice it separately: it will cook with the rest to impart flavor and richness before being discreetly set aside when serving.
We peel and finely slice the shallots. We cut the eggplants into large, uniform cubes for even cooking and good texture in the pot.
We prep the fresh onions: the bulb into slices, the green stalks into segments or wide rings, using them generously: they provide the dish’s green freshness.
Finally, the garlic: one clove crushed to quickly diffuse its fragrance, the others left in their skins to flavor more gently. These are "the shy ones": they perfume without showing themselves, and some diners only discover them at the end of the meal. We, however, will crush them immediately on the plate to bind the juices from the pot.
III. Preparation
In a large pan or Dutch oven, gently heat a spoonful of olive oil.
Add the sliced shallots, letting them melt slowly until translucent and supple, without browning: a small shallot fondue, sweet and confident.
On this bed of shallots, place the large cubes of smoked bacon and the strip of rind. Brown them over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until they are well colored and have rendered some of their fat: noble matter for the flavor and sheen of the dish.
Then add the eggplant cubes and mix carefully to coat them in the bacon fat and the cooking juices. Cook over medium heat, stirring regularly, until they become tender and melting, without falling apart.
At this stage, a small glass of dry white wine can be added: it deglazes the bottom, dissolves the browned bits, and adds a lively note that lightens the fat without masking the perfume of the herbs. The juice gains depth, correcting the rhythm of the market when the vegetables aren't quite at their peak.
When the eggplants have begun to cook well, lower the heat, add the crushed garlic and the whole cloves in their skins, and tuck five or six beautiful sprigs of fresh rosemary into the middle of the eggplant and bacon. Let it simmer gently so the rosemary infuses the pot with Provence.
Halfway through cooking, when the eggplants are very tender but not yet candied, add the savory and fresh thyme, stripped from their stems between your fingers, as well as the fresh red onions and their green stalks, roughly sliced. Mix, then continue over low heat until the eggplants are completely melting, the bacon crispy on the surface, and the herbs and onions have perfumed the whole.
For those who cannot conceive of a Southern dish without tomato, a little homemade tomato coulis, reduced separately, can be added for a more bound sauce and a more Mediterranean color. A little weary of seeing tomatoes invited everywhere, I prefer to let the eggplant, bacon, herbs, and fresh onions hold the stage alone.
Taste, adjust the pepper, and—only if necessary—add a little salt; the bacon has already largely done its share of seasoning.
IV. Serving
Serve piping hot as a main course, with country bread, rice, or polenta, or as a side dish for grilled meat—rabbit, chicken, or lamb, depending on the season and appetite.
Like many slow-cooked dishes, this preparation handles being made in advance and gently reheated the next day very well; it gains even more texture and flavor.
