You see, it's like this. I let this silly thing get the best of me.
Now the official story is that my kitchen was disgruntled with me because I was out of town for the weekend hanging out with this guy (and his brother).
Hey - it could happen. Haven't you read Steven King's Christine?
I am sure it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I didn't read the recipe all the way through before I started. Nope. Or cut open the eggplant before I roasted it. Nope. And tried to rescue it by patching it together with tin foil. Nope. There is no photographic evidence to prove such a thing ever happened. Not a lick.
Just trust me when I say it wasn't pretty... (Actually, there is not a whole lot of pretty from here on out. But there is some good at the end.)
Confession: There was a part of me that came pretty close to calling it quits. A myriad of excuses pushed their little path through my thoughts. (No time. No ingredients. Too hot. Too late. Too busy.)
In the end, stubbornness won out. I was not going to let a goofy little purple thing get the best of me (and no, I don't mean Barney - shivers...). I marched my rear back to the grocer and found another goofy little purple thing.
Oh, and it probably helped that I followed the directions second time around.
Now, I suppose at this point, I should start some narrative how caviar is the food of kings. And that this creamy dip is luscious enough to serve to kings or something like that. Coming from me, that would sound pretty goofy. I will say this was interesting - not a preparation I would normally give to eggplant.
And very easy... once I followed the directions :-)
Click here for a link to the recipe.
In other news, I am still very befuddled by the random man at the gas station this morning who decided to start hammering me about politics & next year's elections. It was just odd. I rarely share my political views with those closest to me - let alone complete strangers. I told him I was in the process of relocating to another country... He stopped bugging me at that point.
I also tilt my head at the five teenagers I saw pushing a shopping cart down Route 50. Nowhere near a store... Huh? I am pretty certain they were not planning on using their acquisition for good...
One last self indulgent ramble... why don't stores teach their cashiers & baggers how to bag? No, I don't want my meat in the same bag as my fruit. And no, bread should not be stood up along side cans. I also prefer not to have my fabric softener sheets in the bag with my produce. Just saying...
I think I have everything off my chest. For now. Thanks for listening!
This post participates in French Fridays with Dorie.