My love for eggplant! It is a never-ending love affair. I even have a childhood “trauma” associated with it. I remember that day clearly, now after so many years. I was probably about 7 or 8, or maybe even a little older. This happened back in Baku. My mom made stuffed eggplant dish for dinner. We were sitting around the table. Mom served everybody. I glanced at my sister’s plate, then at mine, and, to my utter “shock”, noticed that the stuffed eggplant on hers was just a little bigger!
I was enraged, voicing my strong disapproval, ignoring all the household-established rules of good manners. “I would not eat a smaller eggplant,” I said. I don’t remember the bits of conversation that followed after that, but what I clearly remember is that shortly after my revolt, I was sitting alone in our front yard (we had a small house with a gated front yard), sulking over the lost opportunity to enjoy that delicious stuffed eggplant, albeit its size. I do not remember if I was allowed to come back and finish my dinner. That doesn’t matter much.
What matters, my friends, is that I still do glance at other people’s plates comparing the eggplants on theirs to those on mine. Just kidding:)