My Journey to Tortang Talong Perfection

(SPOT.ph) “Why is tortang talong all over my feed?”

My husband, Matt, who rarely comes up for air between work and his mobile game-of-the-moment, did so long enough to notice that his social media is suddenly all about the eggplant-based Filipino dish. Oh, he knows it’s good—it's a mainstay in our household, and if I had total control over our family lunch or dinner menus at home, we would be eating it more often. So, yes, we love it, but it is news to him that all of a sudden the entire world has finally caught on.

Before actress and businesswoman Gwyneth Paltrow posted a very on-brand version (topped with garlicky turkey crumble and SharkNinja-blitzed housemade banana ketchup) that turned her into Pinoy pop culture’s belle du jour for a hot minute, tortang talong was adobo and sinigang’s socially awkward cousin. An acquired taste, it does not have the salability of pork barbecue or the exotic drama of sisig. It is too homey for a potluck and, to be perfectly honest, too complex (unless you have a grill that’s blazing 24/7) to be an everyday thing.

But, when the craving for it comes, and the inventory in your pantry aligns, the grilled eggplant omelette accompanied by your condiment of choice hits the spot like nothing else.

My lonely road to talong perfection was not without its bumps and puddles. Like I said, it's not a one-pot wonder like nilagang manok or a chopsuey that takes minimal prep and some quick sautéing. While I have made omelettes before, this particular variety is not as straightforward as it seems. Even if you are simply making the basic whisked eggs with a blackened and peeled eggplant, it takes a bit of trial and error to get right.

Personally, I feel my struggles stemmed from my very specific food memories of the dish. The tortang talong I grew up with had giniling or picadillo—ground pork or beef sautéed with diced onion, garlic, carrots, potatoes, and if I had a say in it, no raisins. This will be fried with a few beaten eggs and the pre-grilled eggplant stripped of its charred skin leaving only its tender insides perfectly cooked into mush. Of course, this is usually prepared for me; it would just magically appear in front of me perfectly golden from its flips on the hot pan, accompanied by a bottle of ketchup. So how it all came together—from grilling the eggplant to preparing the meat filling to making the omelette—was a total mystery, until I had to make one for myself.

So, after many attempts that involved a similar number of tantrums (“Ayaw ko na, let’s just order pizza!”) and a full-on panic attack, I felt that I have finally achieved TT supremacy. I first had to accept that there will be days when I will attain stunning architectural symmetry with my tortang talong, while other days it will be open to interpretation, like a very tasty Pollock painting. Either way, it’s nothing a smattering of ketchup and kewpie cannot fix.

For quick lunches, best to go vegetarian—chop up some tomatoes, onions, and bell peppers, and saute until all are tender, and then proceed as you usually would. And when I have time to prepare the tortang talong of my childhood, I attack it in a way as if I were making two dishes. First, the picadillo with its own prep and cooking time, making enough to put some aside for a quick rice bowl another day or for my daughter to bring to school. The rest goes into the tortang talong which entails its own mis en place—two to three beaten eggs, mushy grilled eggplant, and a hot omelette pan with a generous slick of neutrally flavored oil. My suggestion is to go easy on the filling—too much and the eggs will not hold them together, and that’s always stressful. Always safer to have more egg than meat/eggplant for a tidier flip.

I have gotten creative with my meat filling as well, so feel free to stuff it with the stragglers in your freezer, like that last piece of Lucban longganisa or Spanish chorizo. To season, always keep it simple with just a pinch of salt and pepper, but those vegetarian tortang talongs do come alive with a few drops of fish sauce.

So there it is—my tortang talong journey that nobody asked for. I went through it so you do not have to. Now all you need to do is pull your hair up in a messy bun and dive into it like your Tita Gwyneth.