Summer Food Rituals and Eggplant Parmigiana

by Linda

"A ritual is a set of actions, performed mainly for their symbolic value... There are hardly any limits to the kind of actions that may be incorporated into a ritual." ~Wikipedia

   I love seasonal food rituals. I love preparing and eating all of the traditional foods associated with major holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas. As for me, I also celebrate Eggplant Parmigiana Day. Eggplant Parmigiana is a dish that I associate with long days, warm weather and garden plots that are producing at their peak. My Grandma Elsie grew eggplant in her garden when I was a girl. I recall her breading and frying up slices of eggplant, that we girls would eat plain, dipped in catsup.
   In later years I learned to make Eggplant Parmigiana which I love. I make Eggplant Parmigiana once in the summer each year without fail, just as I am driven by my own internal clock to pull my ice cream maker out of storage to make at least one batch of our family's homemade lemon ice cream before Labor Day arrives. The summer would not be complete for me without making these foods, which in my mind, pay homage to the sun, and happy memories of many summers past.


My son, Joshua and I on the Cayucos pier in October of 2005.

   One particularly memorable summer a few years ago, I was staying at my friend Richard's beach apartment in Cayucos, California on the weekends. Cayucos sits just off of Highway 1 near Morro Bay. I adore this sleepy little beach town that has a wonderful farmer's market on Friday mornings during the summer season. It is adjacent to the pier.

The Farmer's Market in Cayucos on a Friday morning in mid-July.

   Richard's apartment sat on a hill, and was just a short walk to the pier and the minuscule downtown. The apartment was designed with floor to ceiling windows and a nice deck, all of which commanded a panoramic view of the Pacific Ocean. What wonderful weekends I spent there for several years before I moved up north. 

Michelle, Maddie and I passing a pleasant afternoon on Cayucos Beach.

   On one particular Friday morning near midsummer, I walked over to the farmer's market after having my Saturday morning cup of coffee on the pier. There I found the farm stand tables filling the beach parking lot stacked high with glowing purple eggplant, fragrant and blazing red vine-ripened tomatoes, and woven baskets piled high with just-harvested bunches of basil. As my eyes took in all of the summer's beautiful bounty, I knew at once that Eggplant Parmigiana Day had arrived.

   I spent the rest of the day in a blissful state of euphoria, while I prepared my own marinara, let the sliced and salted eggplant leach its bitter juices on to a half sheet pan to ready for breading and sautéing, and I kneaded dough for French bread. I languidly sipped a delicious glass of zinfandel (which the area is known for) by Tobin James. As I worked joyfully, I allowed myself to be hypnotized by the unceasing coming and going of the waves on the shoreline below, as I tried my best to name the ever-changing shades of blue on the surface of the water that stretched as far as my eyes could see in any direction.


The view from Richard's condo.

   This year the voluptuous purple beauties showed up at my own market a couple of weeks ago. It was a thrilling moment for me after enduring an incredibly long, cold and wet Nor Cal Winter and Spring. Those luscious eggplant were a sight for sore eyes desperately in need of a sun-drenched Mediterranean vacation. I quickly plucked the two most gorgeous specimens off the table, and took them home, cheered by the visual confirmation that summer was here at last, and that the morrow would be Eggplant Parmigiana Day. The next morning I enacted the ritual once more of the peeling, slicing, salting, waiting, breading, frying and layering. It is a process that I cherish. The results of my days efforts were satisfying and delicious, just as I knew they would be, which is the beauty of enacting a ritual.
   At the end of the day, every nuanced bite was an acknowledgment of my present abundance and good fortune. Each taste on the tongue announced the arrival and celebration of yet another summer, but also provided a portal into summers past. For the conclusion of this year's Eggplant Parmigiana Day there was also a bowl of our family's lemon ice cream for dessert. I reveled in the warm evening outdoors on my deck under the giant oak tree, offering up thanks for my good fortune at being alive on that particular summer's day, and, it almost goes without saying... I didn't forget to make a toast and a blessing to the sun.