Fire-Roasted Eggplant Carpaccio with Burnt Scallion Oil & Spiced Lentil Crunch
Growing up in Tel Aviv, the smell of charred eggplant wafting through the bustling streets was my absolute favorite sign that the weekend had finally arrived. My grandmother used to burn them right on her small gas stove until they collapsed into a smoky, silky mess. This Fire-Roasted Eggplant Carpaccio is my profound love letter to those vibrant memories, layered with the refining techniques I picked up during my years cooking in London. We roast the eggplants until they are completely blackened, peel them, and smash them flat across a massive platter. This creates a gorgeous, smoky canvas for a weekend lunch. What makes this dish truly special to me is the bold contrast of layers. We cover this beautiful mess in a deeply savory burnt scallion oil, generous pools of garlicky whipped tahini (because tahini belongs on literally everything), and a shatteringly crisp lentil-walnut crunch. The textures will absolutely blow your mind. Don't have walnuts? Throw in toasted pistachios or almonds. Want more brightness? A massive handful of fresh pomegranate seeds scattered on top will make the whole plate pop with jewel-toned color and a tart bite. Grab a huge piece of warm pita, scoop up all that crunchy goodness, and let the Mediterranean sunshine into your kitchen.
Featured Recipe
Fire-Roasted Eggplant Carpaccio with Burnt Scallion Oil & Spiced Lentil Crunch
There is something incredibly primal about dropping a whole eggplant directly onto an open flame, and the reward is absolute magic. Here, we roast eggplants until they collapse, peel them, and smash them flat across a massive platter to act as a smoky, silky canvas for a weekend lunch. We cover this beautiful mess in a deeply savory burnt scallion oil, pools of garlicky whipped tahini, and a shatteringly crisp lentil-walnut crunch.
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Timeline
Ingredients
- 3 medium firm, glossy eggplants(Look for eggplants that feel heavy for their size)
- 6 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil(Divided (1/4 cup for scallion oil, 2 tbsp for crunch))
- 1 bunch scallions(Roughly chopped, whites and greens separated)
- 1 whole lemon(Zested to yield 1 tsp, juiced to yield 2 tbsp)
- 1/2 cup premium tahini paste(Well-stirred, the runny kind)
- 1 clove garlic(Microplaned or finely grated)
- 1/3 cup ice water(Crucial for fluffy tahini)
- 1/2 tsp kosher salt(Plus more to taste)
- 1/2 tsp flaky sea salt(For finishing)
- 1/2 cup cooked green or brown lentils(Canned is perfect, rinsed and patted very dry)
- 1/3 cup raw walnuts(Roughly crushed)
- 1 tsp cumin seeds(Whole seeds, not ground)
- 1 tsp Aleppo pepper(Or 1/2 tsp regular red pepper flakes)
- 1/2 cup pomegranate seeds(Fresh)
- 1 cup mixed fresh herbs(Dill, mint, and cilantro, roughly torn)
- 1 tbsp pomegranate molasses(For drizzling)
Instructions
- 1
Place 3 medium firm, glossy eggplants directly onto the grates of a gas stove over medium-high heat (or under a fierce broiler). Let them roast, turning occasionally with metal tongs, until the skin is entirely charred and ashy, and the flesh completely collapses. This takes time, don't rush it.
20 min
Tip: It should look like a deflated balloon. If it offers any resistance when pierced, it's not ready.
- 2
While the eggplants roast, make the scallion oil. Heat 1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil in a small saucepan over medium heat. Add the chopped whites from 1 bunch scallions and cook until they are deep golden brown and slightly burnt at the edges. Remove from heat, stir in the green parts and 1 tsp lemon zest. Let it steep.
10 min
Tip: Taking the scallion whites to the edge of burnt gives this dish a profound, savory depth that mimics the smoky eggplant.
- 3
In a medium bowl, whisk together 1/2 cup premium tahini paste, 1 clove garlic, and 2 tbsp lemon juice. The mixture will seize and thicken—don't panic! Vigorously whisk in 1/3 cup ice water and 1/2 tsp kosher salt until it transforms into a pillowy, light, and silky sauce.
5 min
Tip: Ice water is the secret to getting that gorgeous, bright white, ultra-fluffy Tel Aviv-style tahini.
- 4
Make the crunch. In a skillet over medium heat, warm the remaining 2 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil. Add 1/2 cup cooked green or brown lentils, 1/3 cup raw walnuts, 1 tsp cumin seeds, and 1 tsp Aleppo pepper. Fry tossing frequently, until the lentils blister and crisp, and the nuts are deeply toasted. Transfer to a paper towel-lined plate.
8 min
Tip: Make sure your lentils are completely dry before they hit the hot oil, or they will steam instead of crisp.
- 5
Transfer the charred eggplants to a colander and let them cool just enough to handle. Gently peel away and discard the blackened skin, leaving the stem intact if you want some visual drama. Place the peeled eggplants onto a large serving platter and use a fork to smash and fan them out like a carpaccio, covering the plate.
7 min
Tip: We are maximizing surface area here. More surface area means more real estate for our toppings.
- 6
Season the fanned eggplant with 1/2 tsp flaky sea salt. Spoon the fluffy tahini generously over the eggplant in big swooshes. Drizzle the steeped scallion oil everywhere, making sure to get all the crispy alliums. Scatter the fried lentil crunch over the top. Finish with a shower of 1/2 cup pomegranate seeds, 1 cup mixed fresh herbs, and a zigzag drizzle of 1 tbsp pomegranate molasses.
5 min
Tip: Serve immediately with a massive stack of warm pita. This is meant to be attacked collectively.
Chef's Notes
I always say a salad or a mezze platter needs to be an absolute event. By smashing the eggplant flat, we stop thinking of it as a single roasted vegetable and start treating it as a luscious, smoky canvas. The burnt scallion oil and the crispy lentils provide the fat and crunch that the silky eggplant desperately craves. Do not skip the pomegranate molasses at the end—its sharp acidity balances the rich tahini beautifully.
Yael Mizrahi
Bold flavors, beautiful plates
Born in Tel Aviv to a Moroccan mother and Iraqi father, I grew up speaking the language of spice. My kitchen was always full of cumin, preserved lemons, and the sound of multiple conversations happening at once. I moved to London at 22, cooked my way through the city's best restaurants, and discovered that the whole Mediterranean was my playground. Now I create dishes that celebrate the entire region—from Marrakech to Athens, with plenty of stops in between.