Named for an opera, not a person -- Bellini's Norma, which premiered not far from here, and which one of the dish's early admirers apparently found so perfect that he decided nothing less than an opera's name would do it justice. I have never seen the opera. I have eaten this dish more times than I could count.
Serves 4.
Salt the eggplant cubes generously, and let them sit in a colander for thirty minutes -- this draws out the bitterness and much of the moisture that would otherwise make the eggplant greedy for oil. Pat dry thoroughly.
Fry the eggplant in a generous amount of olive oil over medium-high heat until golden and tender, working in batches if needed so the pieces brown rather than steam. Set aside.
In the same pan, warm the four tablespoons of olive oil and cook the garlic until pale gold. Add the crushed tomatoes and a pinch of salt, and simmer for fifteen to twenty minutes.
Meanwhile, cook the pasta in well-salted water until just short of al dente. Drain, and toss with the tomato sauce and most of the eggplant. Top each portion with the remaining eggplant, torn basil, and a generous amount of ricotta salata.
If the eggplant tastes greasy and heavy, it wasn't salted and dried before frying, and soaked up far more oil than it should have. If it turns mushy rather than holding its shape, it was overcooked, either in the pan or sitting too long afterward. And if the dish tastes flat despite everything else being right, you were too sparing with the ricotta salata -- this is not a garnish here, it's the ingredient that ties the whole dish together, and it wants a real, generous presence on top.