Someone asked me why I chose “Nightshades” for this volume. The truth is not some deep philosophical dive into historical botany.
It started with my last few trips to the grocery store. I kept coming home with eggplant, letting it sit in the fridge, and then frantically trying to cook it before it spoiled because I constantly pushed it off for other ingredients. I got tired of treating it like an afterthought. I decided to make it the star, and that frustration evolved into a full menu built entirely around nightshades.
We threw chairs around a couple of tables. You brought the bottles, we brought the food. It was an intimate gathering of friends and strangers in a historic home oozing with charm. Candles flickering, the lights were low, it got loud, and the only thing we took seriously was what landed on the plates. Even the dinnerware was sourced second- or third-hand from Habitat for Humanity Restore. It’s in the ethos. No trace left behind. Just feelings.
We started dark and smoky with blistered tomatillo and smoked poblano, served with a masa crisp, lime curd, and burnt chive and mint oil. Then we woke the palate up with an heirloom tomato tartare bringing bright acidity alongside a lacto-fermented garlic aioli, sourdough crisps, tomato dust, and a basil-jalapeño oil.
We kept the momentum going with a fire-roasted pepper mosaic featuring pressed bell peppers, whipped goat cheese, and ajo blanco. Before the main, we reset the table with a spontaneously fermented strawberry and Fresno chili soda accented with fresh thyme.
For the main course, we finally gave that eggplant the respect it deserved. We plated a Berkshire pork tenderloin resting in a ginger-chipotle jus and cryo-clarified cherry tomato nectar. It was served alongside a russet potato terrine and a highly textured "Cà Pháo" fermented Thai eggplant relish.
We closed it out heavy with a study on chili, chocolate, and espresso. We served a flourless chocolate espresso cake topped with ancho chocolate mousse, a pasilla mirror glaze, and a salted muscovado toffee sauce.
A good dinner party should not end the second you walk out the door. We sent everyone out into the night with wrapped parcels of roasted banana and locally foraged fig bread for the morning.
Volume 05 is a wrap. Volume 06 is currently in the works. If you missed the table this time, make sure you keep an eye out for the next.

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