by Matt Kirouac
I have eggplant Parmesan to thank for my career. That sounds like a lofty statement, but it’s true. Had I not ventured out beyond the world of lasagna and meatloaf to try what I deemed “weird food,” as a teenager, I doubt I would have developed the passion for food that I possess today, and my career in food writing.
The very first time I tried eggplant Parmesan was in sandwich form at a deli attached to a super-sized gas station in Auburn, New Hampshire, the next town over from my home in Candia. I had seen eggplant Parmesan on menus in one form or another over the years, but certainly never felt the urge to try it, or even ask what it was. I couldn’t shake the idea that eggplant was some sort of plant that sprouted eggs, and the idea of that disgusted me. But for some reason, when that deli opened, I felt compelled to explore this seemingly exotic food. Prior to eggplant Parmesan, my childhood food memories mainly consisted of straightforward American fare, mostly made by my mom, such as American chop suey, lasagna, New England seafood, and “Chinese pie,” which is just shepherd’s pie that my mom inexplicably renamed. When I first told my mom I wanted to try this eggplant Parmesan sandwich, she warned me that I wouldn’t like it. Best advice I have ever ignored.
The sandwich was huge, made with soft French bread and over-stuffed with thick slices of fried eggplant, gooey cheese, and a boatload of marinara. It only took me a few bites to fall in love with it. The sandwich all melded together into one ambrosial mess. I really have no idea why my mom would think I would object to fried food covered in sauce and cheese, but I sure proved her wrong by devouring this truck-sized behemoth. I immediately became infatuated with different kinds of foods, and was determined to try as much as I could. Suddenly, I was cooking at home, ordering new things at restaurants, and begging my parents to take me to new towns and cities to eat. I was no longer content with the same old takeout, the same old pizza, and the same old dinner routine. In retrospect, I’m sounding a lot like a spoiled, picky brat, but I prefer to think of myself as cultured, which I’m sure my parents appreciated.
From that moment in my early teens to the time I moved to Chicago for college, my mom kept a steady supply of eggplant Parmesan ingredients at the house. It’s the dish I have prepared for myself more than anything else. It’s the dish I credit with inspiring me about food, and ultimately taking that inspiration to a whole new level in culinary school. Had it not been for this dish, I would likely not have moved to the big city, worked in restaurants and bakeries, or become a food writer. There is a special place in my aorta for this dish. No matter how far I go or what I do, though, no eggplant Parmesan will ever be as good as the sandwich that started it all.
Matt Kirouac is a Chicago-based food writer with more than five years of experience in freelance journalism, restaurant public relations, and blogging. Most recently, Matt served as the lead writer for Restaurant Intelligence Agency, and can currently be found writing for the likes of Front Desk, Serious Eats Chicago, Tasting Table, and Daily Candy.
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