Rustic pie

Against spells One must-have in my winter stores is a braid of garlic from a local organic farm. I hang it somewhere between the kitchen and the dining room to protect my creating from bad energies of all kinds: laziness, discouragement, bad mood, or annoying perfectionism. In addition to this braid, of course, I have […]

Against spells

One must-have in my winter stores is a braid of garlic from a local organic farm. I hang it somewhere between the kitchen and the dining room to protect my creating from bad energies of all kinds: laziness, discouragement, bad mood, or annoying perfectionism. In addition to this braid, of course, I have an extra box of garlic for regular use. The beautiful black cardboard box was once full of exclusive vinegar bottles from three top winemakers, friends of the precious tartaric acid. We used up the vinegar a long time ago, but the box remained. With a chalk pencil, I wrote Garlic on it as nicely as possible and placed it in the darkest and coldest corner. I hope I don’t have to buy garlic in the shop until next season, as this is incredibly complicated – as if all Slovenian garlic disappears somewhere in the winter. Austrian, Italian, Spanish is for sale, which looks like it was grown in some living room, all beautiful, white, without a trace of normal earthly life. My garlic is of different sizes, sometimes with lumps of earth hanging on the roots, wonderfully imperfect. I like these the most. It’s reassuring that you’re not always in the best shape and that’s just fine. 

Garlic is an indispensable spice for me, I put it in almost every savoury dish, as is seen in numerous recipes: “first fry the onion and garlic”. Raw is a more delicate matter, as I have to think first about what plans I have for the next few hours. It’s not very sociable to turn up smelling of raw garlic! So when I was buying a nice amount for the winter stores, I decided to ferment some garlic cloves. Supposedly fermented garlic retains its freshness and all medicinal properties, but loses its aroma. We’ll see if it’s true! Yesterday I peeled enough garlic cloves for half a jar, poured salt water on them, weighed them down, and so the cloves will ferment for six weeks. If I succeed, I will share the recipe. For now though, I’ve flavoured some tomatoes with garlic for a rustic pie with aubergine and courgette, which is likewise an interesting recipe that heralds autumn menus.

Rustic pie

Ingredients

  • Nadev: 50 g fižola
  • manjši jajčevec
  • manjša bučka
  • čebula
  • 3 stroki česna
  • paradižnik
  • žlička suhega origana
  • vejica sveže bazilike
  • oljčno olje
  • sol in poper
  • Testo: 100 g pirine moke
  • 100 g bele pšenične
  • 50 ml oljčnega olja
  • sol

Instructions

  • Začnete z nadevom, ker je treba najprej namočiti fižol (najlažje čez noč, če je vroče, v hladilniku) in ga naslednji dan skuhati.
  • Za testo v skledi zmešate vse sestavine, da nastanejo grobe drobtine. Nato po žličkah dodajate vodo, samo toliko, da lahko ugnetete testo, ki je še vedno malo drobljivo. Če bo vode preveč, bo pečeno testo gumijasto, namesto krhko, kar si želimo.
  • Ugneteno testo pustite v pokriti skledi in postavite v hladilnik.
  • Za nadev narežete jajčevec in bučko na manjše kocke. Nasekljajte čebulo. Paradižnik narežete na kocke in takoj zmešate z nasekljanim česnom in baziliko, da se marinira.
  • Na olju kratko popražite čebulo, dodate jajčevce in jih popečete, da se napol zmehčajo. Dodate bučke, sol, poper, origano in pražite ob stalnem mešanju, da se jajčevci do konca zmehčajo (bučke lahko ostanejo malo čvrste).
  • Dodate mariniran paradižnik in povrete, da je nadev gost.
  • Vključite pečico.
  • Testo na peki papirju razvaljate v krog, na sredo nadevate zelenjavo in robove testa zavihate.
  • S papirjem vred preložite na raven pekač in pečete v prej ogreti pečici na 180 stopinj 20 minut, ko se rob pite začne barvati.
  • Pita je odlična tudi hladna, primerna je za piknike in za s seboj.