This dish has been on the menu for a few weeks but it’s one that took a lot of tweaking to get just right. And it’s one of my favorite-looking dishes. Behold: Eggplant Fettuccine with Pickled Eggplant, Eggplant Jam, Black Olive Fettuccine, Basil Broth, Sundried Tomato Oil and Lemon Ricotta.

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Those ribbons of deep fried eggplant skin look like something out of an H.P. Lovecraft story.

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Great Cthulhu awakens!

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Like a proud mother, I’m going to show you a lot of pictures of my baby on the next page.

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The fettuccine noodles themselves aren’t made of egg and flour like most pasta. Instead they’re made with black olives and flour, which is why they’re as black as sin and lightly salted, like kitten’s tears.

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The dough from which all black olive

fettuccine comes.

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The fettuccine tucked up warm in bed.

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Because they’re made of black olives, the noodles tend to clump a bit, so to keep them from sticking together on the plate we fill the bowl with a basil broth. Most people are used to pastas coming with heavy cream sauces or ragouts, but either of those would cause this pasta to stick together. It needs the thinner basil broth to keep the strands separate. Then I add a few drops of sundried tomato oil for color.

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The noodles are topped with eggplant jam. I take some fat little Japanese eggplants (they’re very soft and sweet), skin them, char them, then cook them down with some garlic and sugar for a few hours until they’re a smooth, sweet, smoky paste. On top of that I put some pickled eggplants that have been fried. These are baby Italian eggplants (darker and less bitter than regular eggplants) that I pickle in a bunch of different vinegars, then dip them in herbed panko and pan sautee them. They come out plump and bitter, like cynical babies.

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On top of that I put some ricotta whipped with lemon zest. I like dishes that change as you eat them, and what I hope happens with this eggplant fettuccine is that as you eat it the eggplant jam and ricotta fall into the basil broth and by the time you’re done the broth has thickened some and has lots of yummy charred eggplant and creamy ricotta in it. Feel free to ask for some extra bread if you want to mop it up. I’ll respect you more for that.

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Crowning this entire dish are bits of fried eggplant skin. They’re two colors because the skin and the pulp that clings to it change color when they’re fried. They reach to the skies like super-tentacles, trying to hug your face. To me, this is the perfect winter dish: sour, salty, smoky and a little bit bitter.

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