Hearty Eggplant + Sausage Pasta

With Fall in full swing in New York, warming meals come to mind, but I’m not quite ready for stews. I figured I could hold on to a shred of summer by combining pasta with a hearty sausage and eggplant sauce, you know, in order to make it filling and Fall friendly.

When I traveled to Rome in 2016, I took myself out to a lovely and memorable dinner at a small restaurant off of the Spanish Steps. Surprisingly, the spot was not touristy and the waiters spoke to me in Italian even though I, Tina Marie Theresa Corrado of Italian heritage, do not speak Italian (I speak Spanish. Soy una mala Italiana, as I often tell my friends in Mexico). As I fumbled through talking to the waiters, I watched plates of piping hot pasta, cradled in eggplant and sauce, come out from the kitchen. I asked them if that was one of their signature dishes and, sure enough, it was. And, so, I was sold. Ever since a tender, young age, I was a lover of eggplant. My father and his sister, Josephine, used to make the most incredible eggplant pasta dish. And, one evening, alone in Rome, in a charming Italian restaurant, surrounded by charming waiters, I ordered this very pasta I would often eat at home.

Pasta alla Norma is made by frying cubes of eggplant and then coating them in a marinara sauce. Typically, long pasta is tossed with the sauce and then topped with ricotta salata. Here you have yourself a southern Italian pasta dish to play on repeat until the end of time. Now, in the preparation, the salting and frying of the eggplant creates a caramelization on the outside of the eggplant, which makes the sauce even slick and silky with a sheet of oil that coats the pasta. Frying eggplant is also a labor of love and time consuming, which is why I enjoy it when I go to a restaurant or when my father or Aunt will prepare it.

Fast forward to a chilly day in 2024 and I’m sleeping on the couch at my best friends apartment. I was shopping earlier in the day and knew, as I buzzed around the market, that I would be preparing dinner. I wanted a vegetable to be at the base of the meal, so when I passed the produce aisle to side eye rich, purple, perfectly sized eggplants - my mind knew what would be on our menu. Pasta alla Norma isn’t what I would call light because of the frying, but it’s also not exactly what I would call hearty. I didn’t want to make a belly busting pasta, but I also knew I had two stray sausages to spare from a batch of broccoli rabe and sausage that I prepared earlier in the day. Being as the kitchen was not my own and frying seemed messy and, again, time consuming; but I wanted to relive a very fond eggplant pasta experience.

So, like any semi-lazy but creative home cook, I cut corners. But not in a bad way. I knew the fat from the sausage, once rendered, would produce a perfectly fat filmed sauce. What’s that? A fat filmed sauce is that shiny, glistening pool of transparent yellow that dances on the top of a pot of red sauce. This fat, or oil, whatever word you feel more comfortable using, keeps red sauce creamy and fat is what helps sauce adhere to pasta. And, by now you might have guessed it - I skipped frying off the eggplant to save time. I knew, the caramelization would be missing, but the sausage was also going to provide depth of flavor and another layer of taste so the sauce wouldn’t fall flat. No, not the same flavor as caramelization - but I didn’t want to recreate the same pasta - I was interested in riffing.

While I salted the eggplant and let it rest, I cooked off the sausage in butter and garlic. Once it was no longer pink, but not fully cooked, I removed the sausage and suateed an onion, adding fresh tomatoes, a dash of red pepper flakes and salt to the pot. I bounced back and forth between the stove and the counter behind me in my friends galley kitchen. Cozy but with counter space and easy enough to keep an eye on the sauce. As the sauce cooked, bubbling with fatty delight, I squeezed the water from the eggplant and put it aside. Salting eggplant allows it to 1) drain its liquid 2) cook faster and with less oil This would be the perfect solution to not frying and allowing the eggplant to cook in the marinara sauce. After all of the liquid was strained from the eggplant, into the bubbling pot of sauce it went. Two handfuls, a mix with the wooden spoon and I added the sausage (and it’s lovely juices that drained in its waiting period), back into the sauce. I lowered the flame and covered the pot, allowing the flavors of all ingredients to cook and meld together. A beautiful marriage was created under that covered pot, on an early Fall day in Queens, in a cozy kitchen, with my best friend.

I thought about my family, our history of food, cooking and love. I could picture my aunt standing over the stove, frying eggplant and shaking it off to drain on a paper towel. I could hear my father’s proud voice “I made you my eggplant, Tina Marie.” I felt heavy with emotion knowing my aunt cooks very little now, and my father not at all. I wondered about age, how food tastes over time, reinventing family meals and the beauty of sharing food - its nourishment and story. I thought about Rome and that night I ate alone.

Nancy and I sat at her table and enjoyed a bowl of this eggplant pasta, while memories drifted through my mind. This was a new one to add into the history book of food, family and friends. Little bocconcini mozzarella, soft from the heat of the sauce, not quite melted but when I pressed my fork down, the little white ball became flat. I forked a bite, eggplant, sausage, mozzarella, pasta and a strip of basil. I felt calm. I was home.

Ingredients

2 sweet Italian sausages, remove from casing to crumble
1 T. of butter
1 T. of olive oil
2 cloves of garlic, peeled and thinly sliced
1 small onion, finely diced
1 medium eggplant, cut into small cubes (sprinkle with salt, place on paper towel and put aside)
10-12 roma tomatoes, diced (you can use 2 pints of cherry tomatoes or even 2 cups of crushed tomatoes)
Water, 1/2 & 1/2 or cream, for the sauce
Crushed red pepper flakes
Salt
Basil
Pecorino Romano
Bocconcini mozzarella or cubed fresh mozzarella, for serving

Method

-Salt the eggplant and put aside to drain water
-Heat a saucepan or large skillet, over a medium flame, with butter and garlic, add sausage and break apart so it crumbles
-Cook sausage until lightly brown (no longer pink) and put aside in a bowl
-Add olive oil, pinch of crushed red pepper and diced onions; saute until fragrant and translucent - about 5-7 minutes
-Reduce flame to medium low, add tomatoes and summer on low flame
-Gently squeeze the eggplant in a paper towel to remove all of the water, and place in the pot with the tomatoes, add sausage back in the pot and cover - simmering on a low flame for 35-40 minutes
-If the sauce looks thick and concentrated, you can add water and/or a splash of 1/2 & 1/2 or heavy cream
-Stir sauce as needed and salt to taste
-While the sauce is cooking, boil pasta water and cook pasta until al dente
-Remove sauce from heat, add basil and a spoon of pecorino
-Strain pasta
-Toss pasta in sauce and serve with extra basil, pecorino and bocconcini mozzarella