Babaganoush with smashed buttered radishes

Smooth and creamy meets crisp and crunchy... and best of all, there's butter involved

After a few hours work the other evening, my friend Meredith and I called it a day - you know you’re at complete saturation when the wall becomes very distracting. Meredith had intended to go to the gym. She even had her yoga mat. That obviously didn’t happen. Instead, we ordered two glasses of wine and sat outside on the warm terrace. The yoga mat lay forgotten on the floor.

The only thing that was missing from this evening repose was a snack - salty crisps are all well and good for the bar owner but, come on, crisps aren’t real food are they? Give us something with a bit of heft please. I’m a big fan of dips; it takes me an extortionate amount of will-power to resist devouring a whole tub of taramasalata in one sitting. Dips can have their way with me no matter the weather - we’re looking at another rain-soaked weekend coming up, but give me a tub of hummus and I’ll be happy.

One of my favourites is babaganoush. Forget that tub of hummus, I have returned to this babaganoush recipe, one I had a lot of (pyromanic-like) fun making a couple of years ago.

Pyromania is a curiosity we all possess. We all went through that worrying childhood phase of literally playing with fire (I refuse to believe I was the only one) and I think a love of cooking is simply an extension of that.

Take blowtorching something for instance. It really is a dangerous tool to give an enthusiastic chef. A cool, confident demeanour can barely contain the gibbering, over-excited child inside screaming, ‘Waheyyyy let’s brûlée this baby!’ Lightly skimming a flame over the surface of sugar-crusted crème is strangely liberating, especially as you watch it turn from pale yellow to the shiny burnt ochre of caramel. Fire makes magic happen.

So, after leaving professional kitchens where blowtorches, fire and singed arm hairs are acceptable, I finally decided enough was enough and put an aubergine on a naked flame.

Babaganoush is a smokey aubergine dip and is prepared in various ways across the Middle East – much like a lot of Middle Eastern cuisine, babaganoush goes beyond borders, the artificial dividers of culinary cultures. It is also consumed with wild abandon worldwide.

Smoking aubergines is simple – rest them over a medium-low gas flame and occasionally rotate to ensure the cooking is even. (Although, for a quick fire safety lesson, ideally don’t singe your arm hair, use heat-proof utensils and don’t leave the flame unattended! Thanks.) It is also incredibly satisfying. The black skin blisters and cracks, and tendrils of soft flesh are visible through the gaps. Once the aubergine is soft, squidgy, and begins to collapse and droop, it is ready. Set it in a sieve over a bowl to catch any bitter juices, and leave it for at least an hour until cool enough to handle.

The aubergine itself is a bitter vegetable and tends to demand a lot of attention. Meanwhile, the aim of my game, smoking, is notorious for its astringency and dominant flavour. This is when the other ingredients in babaganoush play their important part.

Tahini, garlic, cumin and lemon are all blitzed with the smokey aubergine flesh, each generously bestowing creamy, smooth, spicy or tangy flavour, soothing that bitterness.

Plus, topping your babaganoush with some crunchy, smashed radishes, tossed in melted butter and za’atar – a spice blend of sesame, thyme and sumac – complements the creamy dip and gives you something handy to dunk.

So, should the nearest beer garden be calling your name this spring, I recommend taking along your own stash of babaganoush to satisfy those cravings that crisps simply can’t fulfil.

Print Recipe

Babaganoush

Babaganoush has a completely different texture to other dips like hummus or taramasalata, or even sour cream and chive because the insides of an aubergine are naturally rather sloppy. Raw aubergine innards are like a firm sponge but add heat and you have tentacles of guts all over your hands.

But add the speed of a food processor and oil and the most magical emulsion takes place. What used to be slippery chunks of aubergine is now a thick and creamy dip, ready for dunking.

The radishes were a revelation. Warm and buttered, seasoned with za'atar, they are the perfect crunchy dunkable for babaganoush.

Don’t forget to open a window or turn on your extractor fan - the smokey smell will leave you gasping for fresh air!

Prep Time: 15 mins

Cook Time: 10 mins

Cooling Time: 1 hr

Course: Appetizer, Side Dish, Snack, Starter

Cuisine: Middle Eastern

Keyword: aubergine, lemon, radish, tahini, za’atar

Servings: 4 for a mezze sharing platter

Ingredients

• 1 medium aubergine

• ½ clove of garlic

• ½ tsp cumin

• 2 tsp tahini

• 1 tbsp lemon juice

• 2 tbsp olive oil plus extra for garnish

• Flaky salt and black pepper

• 1 tsp za'atar

• ½ packet of radishes

Instructions

• Wash and dry your aubergine. Set it over a medium-low flame and keep your eye on it. Once the underside is blistered and grey, rotate the aubergine with heat-proof tongs, ensuring it is smoked evenly. This should take around 5 to 10 minutes depending on the size of your aubergine.

  If you don't have a gas stove, you can grill the aubergine. Cut it in half and place skin-side up on a baking tray so that the skin blisters and the flesh doesn't crisp or blacken. Keep checking to make sure they are cooking evenly.

• Once the aubergine is wrinkled and collapsing, set it in a sieve over a bowl. Leave it for an hour until cool enough to handle.

• Peel away the crisp flaked skin then, with a wet hand or wet kitchen paper, dab off the excess black specks. Rip the aubergine into chunks and put them in a food processor.

• Crush your half clove of garlic and add it along with the ground cumin, tahini and lemon juice to the food processor. Whiz together until combined and smooth – sometimes babaganoush can be chunky but I find it to be a bit too sloppy – then pour the olive oil through the funnel as it spins, emulsifying into the puree.

• Add a big grinding of salt and pepper, whiz again, then taste. Add more lemon, cumin or salt to taste.

• Spoon onto a plate or in a bowl and garnish with a drizzle of olive oil and the za’atar.

• If you would like to garnish with radishes, rinse them then bash with a rolling pin until cracked. Gently sauté them in a pan with a knob of butter until coated and slightly warm, and season with salt and za’atar.

Notes

Za’atar is a Middle Eastern spice mix which varies from country to country. Traditionally it is made with sumac, thyme, sesame and oregano, and is a typical seasoning across Middle Eastern cuisines. You can buy it in most supermarkets or you can easily make your own.