Whenever I shop at Russian, Romanian, Bulgarian, and even Lebanese ethnic markets, I look for the ajvar, a jarred pepper-and-eggplant condiment from the Balkan region. Most of these stores stock multiple brands and many varieties—smooth or chunky, piquant or not, with varying proportions of pepper and eggplant, and sometimes with added tomato. Traditionally, people from the lands of the former Yugoslavia make avjar each autumn, by roasting peppers and eggplants over an open fire, peeling them, grinding or chopping them, and then cooking down the mixture with garlic, oil, and salt before ladling it into jars. Ajvar preserves the seasonal bounty for eating throughout the winter.
Last week I found, under a pile of papers on my desk, a recipe I developed last year for a lazy woman’s ajvar. The discovery came at the perfect time, when I was bringing in armfuls of eggplants and more and more ripe peppers. With this recipe I wouldn’t have to make and tend a wood fire or even blacken fruits over a stovetop burner. I would roast both the peppers and the eggplants in the oven. Would I miss the flavor of wood smoke in my ajvar? No, because I would cheat, by adding just a little smoked paprika to the mix.
Roasting peppers not only intensifies their flavor but also makes it easy to remove thick skins. For ajvar, the people of the Balkans favor the roga (“horn”) pepper, a large, thick-skinned, elongated variety that resembles one I’ve developed in my own garden (I call it, imaginatively, Big-Long-Wide). Pimiento and ripe Anaheim peppers are good substitutes. The bigger the pepper, the easier it is to peel. But last week I used whatever sweet peppers happened to be ripe in my garden, including small ones. Rubbing the peppers with a bit of oil made them easier to peel after roasting.
Most of the peppers I used were yellow, and some were black rather than red. No matter—you can see from the picture above that my ajvar developed an appealing rust-red color.
The eggplants for this recipe can be of any kind. Mine weren’t of the globe type but were long and narrow or medium-wide and teardrop-shaped. Because all of them were relatively slender, they roasted completely in the same amount of time as the peppers. Globe eggplants such as Black Beauty would need to cook longer.
Although olives are a major product of the Balkan region, many areas are too cold for olive trees and so rely on sunflowers for oil. Unrefined sunflower oil has a strong flavor that may grow on you. You can find it in markets that sell eastern European foods. Make sure that what you buy is unrefined; refined oil is flavorless.
Ajvar is traditionally sealed in jars without further processing. The USDA, of course, would frown on that method but has not provided us with processing guidelines for a low-acid product like ajvar. So I freeze mine—if my husband and I don’t eat it right away.
Lazy Woman’s Ajvar
2 ½ pounds sweet peppers, such as pimiento or ripe Anaheim (the bigger, the better)
¼ cup olive oil or unrefined sunflower oil, plus a little for rubbing on the peppers
1 ¼ pounds eggplants, each stabbed with a fork in several places
1 medium head garlic, cloves separated and peeled
About 1 ½ teaspoons salt
About 1 tablespoon vinegar
About 2 pinches smoked paprika (such as pimentón de la Vera)
Heat the oven to 500 degrees F.
Line a roasting pan with foil. Rub each pepper with a little oil. Lay the peppers and eggplants in the pan. Roast the peppers for about 45 minutes, turning them occasionally, until the skins are shriveled and somewhat blackened and the flesh is tender. Transfer the peppers to a bowl, and cover it with a lid or plastic wrap.
The eggplants are ready when their flesh is completely softened. Cook them longer than the peppers if needed.
When the vegetables are cool enough to handle, cut open the eggplants and scrape the flesh into a bowl. Peel the peppers, discard their cores, and scrape out loose seeds with a spoon. Add the peppers to the bowl. With your hands or a slotted spoon, lift the peppers and eggplants into the bowl of a food processor. Strain the juice remaining into the processor bowl, discarding any seeds and bits of skin. Add the garlic. Process the mixture until smooth.
In a wide, heavy pan (I use an 11-inch cast-iron skillet), warm the oil. Add the vegetable purée, and simmer it over low heat, stirring often, for about 15 minutes. Toward the end of the cooking, add the salt, vinegar, and smoked paprika to taste. The ajvar is ready when it is quite thick.
Spoon the ajvar into glass or plastic containers, and refrigerate or freeze them. The ajvar will keep in the refrigerator for about a week.
Makes about 1 ½ pints