Erica De Mane

Recipe below:Pasta alla Norma

There has been for decades on the Upper East Side of Manhattan a restaurant called Isle of Capri. It’s always had an old-fashioned continental glamor that as a kid I thought was the living end. My family would go there after shopping at Bloomingdale’s, which is a block away. But we also went for birthdays and just for a night out. It opened in 1955. It was never an expensive place, but it was and still is super festive, with its blood-red paint and Greek plaster wall inlays.

When I was an older kid, it turned into a date night stop. On one memorable evening I went there with my high school boyfriend, a sweet but pretentious guy who wanted badly to be James Joyce and managed to will himself into early-onset alcoholism. The evening went well enough, I guess. Between us we had just had enough money to pay the bill with a half-assed tip.

When we got out we couldn’t find his car, which had been parked right in front.  And his car was hard to miss, being 75 percent rust. We walked around and around the block frantically until it dawned on us that it had probably been towed. And sure enough, after we walked all the way to the tow pound in the foreboding darkness of the West Side Highway, we were told we needed something like $120 in cash to get it out. I’m not sure the car was worth that much. We were horrified. My boyfriend took out a flask of something, lit a Winston, and started to cry. I felt abandoned, standing around at molestation central with this degenerate crybaby. I finally broke down and called my father. Being the dad he was, he drove in, bailed us out, and took me home. My relationship with James Joyce manqué went downhill from there.

I’ve digressed a little here, but the reason I brought up the Isle of Capri in the first place was for its pasta Siciliana. I’m pretty sure I ordered it every time I went there. It was a dish of penne with tomatoes, strips of eggplant, and mozzarella, kind of glued together and not exactly baked, as I recall. I loved it with a passion. I haven’t been to the place in at least 10 years, and they no longer have the dish on the menu.

I love pasta with eggplant in all its variations. The Sicilian classic, pasta alla Norma, is basically what I ate at Isle of Capri. I make it all the time at home, a more involved version, adding ricotta salata, mint, basil, almonds, and cinnamon, and draping slices of fried eggplant on top. As my life has evolved, so has my pasta. Here’s the way I do it.

Pasta alla Norma

(Serves 5)

Extra-virgin olive oil
2 large summer garlic cloves, thinly sliced
1 fresh red peperoncino, minced
About 2 cups diced eggplant, partially skinned, plus 1 big long partially skinned eggplant cut into thin rounds
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
¼ cup sweet Marsala
5 medium-size round summer tomatoes, skinned, seeded, diced (about 2½ cups or so), and well drained to remove excess water (reserve the tomato water for loosening the pasta if needed)
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
A generous pinch of piment d’Espelette
1 pound penne or rigatoni
A chunk of ricotta salata
⅓ cup blanched almonds, lightly toasted and roughly chopped
A handful of spearmint sprigs, the leaves lightly chopped
A handful of basil leaves, lightly chopped

In a large skillet, heat about 2 tablespoons of olive oil over medium flame. Add the garlic, peperoncino, chopped eggplant, and cinnamon, all at the same time, and sauté until the eggplant is fragrant and golden, about 7 minutes or so. Add the Marsala, and let it boil away. Add the tomatoes, and season with salt, black pepper and some piment. Let simmer, uncovered, at a low bubble for about 8 minutes, just until the eggplant is cooked through. You might need to add a splash of water if the sauce looks dry. Turn off the heat.

Set up a large pot of pasta cooking water, and bring it to a boil.

While the water is coming to a boil, set out a large sauté pan over medium-high heat. When the pan is hot, add about 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Salt and pepper the eggplant rounds, and place them in the pan, letting them cook until golden on one side, about 2 minutes. Give them a flip, and cook them until just tender. Lay them out on paper towels.

Add a generous amount of salt to the pasta water, and drop in the penne.

When the penne is al dente, drain it, and pour it into a large serving bowl. Reheat the eggplant sauce if necessary, checking for seasoning, and pour it over the pasta. Add a little of the reserved tomato water to loosen the sauce, if needed. Grate in about a heaping tablespoon of the ricotta salata, using the large holes on your grater, and about half of the basil and mint, and give it a toss. Drape the eggplant slices on top. Grate on a little more ricotta salata. Scatter on the almonds, and garnish with the rest of the basil and the mint. Serve hot.