Lemony Eggplant and Tofu Sheet Pan Roast

When I considered starting Life as we Cook it, I gave a lot of thought to the kind of recipes I would be posting, and the type of writing that I would attach to them. I briefly considered keeping it black and white: this is the food I cook, this is why, this is how it tastes. But, really, that was a brief consideration, because, that’s so not who I am. Sure, sometimes I’m really craving guacamole so I’ll make a bowl. Sometimes Easton asks to make muffins and so we make muffins, based on whatever’s in the house. But, most of the time, recipes are just one piece of the story. The rest is what’s happening in the kitchen, in our home, in my life.

And, really, that’s what Life as we Cook it means, right? So I try to be honest: potty training, sleep training, dealing with birds trapped in my wall while attempting to prepare for a first birthday. But, there’s one area that’s always felt a bit off limits for me: my struggle to feel excited about cooking. This has been my worry: if this blog was created in the spirit of family, cooking for my family and keeping food interesting for my family, what do I have to offer if I’m burnt out?

Two weeks before the holidays, I was way, way over cooking. I had hurt my back earlier in the month, trying to save Reeve’s from one of her daredevil tricks. Preparing for dinner always coincided with the time Reeve insists on being held, trying to touch the hot skillets and nothing seemed interesting enough to put time into making. For me, cooking and life get tangled together. If I’m feeling a bit down about my day to day, it’s hard to feel excited about the ingredients staring back at me in the store.

But, Larry was home, and he took on a lot of the cooking, a lot of the meal deciding. (Because, really, the meal deciding is just as much work). And, then, one day, toward the end of his time home, neither of us had a dinner plan. But, something unexpected happened: I was OK with it and up for the challenge. He left to pick up Easton from school, and I got to work, cutting the eggplants we had into large chunks and pressing tofu to release liquid. Both had been intended for other purposes. I was going to make tofu lettuce wraps and an eggplant stir fry, but neither felt like dinner.

Since the tofu needed to be pressed, I took a little bit of time to salt the eggplant and set it in a colander. By the time Reeve woke up from her nap, I was in a position to toss them both together, the tofu partially-released of its liquid and cubed, and the eggplant, patted dry. I roasted them together, knowing that eggplant needs time, but also, that the tofu can handle it. Two sheet pans went into the oven and I was about to make a sauce, when Reeve started tugging at the bottom of my shirt.

This is why we keep jars of sauce in the house. Sauce is easy to make. It’s fast and it doesn’t ask much of you. But, what it does ask for, is for onion and garlic to be peeled and chopped, sometimes plum tomatoes to be squeezed. That’s a lot with a baby in your arms. And, really, I was pumped about making dinner, for the first time in a long time. Did I really need to chance reversing it?

While I’m acting so cavalier about my jarred sauce use, I should admit: it’s a rarity. In fact, I was disappointed in us when I realized the first jar I picked up was expired. But, the second was fine. When the eggplant and tofu was roasted, and Reeve had eaten just enough pieces of eggplant to make me worried that her dinner would be spoiled and our serving sizes were diminished, I added sauce, dotted the top with squares of cheese and let it bake, until bubbly and melted.

The sauce was fine, but I definitely wanted something else. Something to perk it up. Lemon. I realized that’s what I was craving. I filed it away for next time, when I was pretty sure I would be making it with a sauce born on top of my stove.

Let’s be honest. This isn’t the fanciest meal. And, it’s not the most creative in the cooking department. But, it was warm and comforting, gave all the feelings of eggplant parm or tofu parm, without the oil or time it takes to bread and fry, and it helped give my cooking mojo a small jumpstart. I’ll take it.