Pure Slush

flash ... without the wank

Eggplant Rhapsody

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by Mira Desai   Miss Margaret's Apples  >


Guess what she got me, the girl we shall call P

(the girl with the unpronounceable, much mangled Portuguese name, though it could well be Spanish)

From the lush fields of the island off the coast

(take the bus, then the ferry, then a tonga and then maybe, just maybe, reach )

From her sister-in-law’s sister’s fields

Who, like a good East Indian, owns her own land,

(Land is land, even if the Portuguese left a long time ago--)

She gifted me

An eggplant, perfectly round and dimple-featured

Its skin a translucent pearl lavender, a stylo color, froth-like sheen

The likes I’ve never seen.

This morning I made bhartha

Roasting the vegetable in its own juices

Peeling off crinkled skin from its tender flesh

Sautéed tomatoes – onions to a mushy mess

And then a blend of spices

Ah- the aroma of those spices!

Cardamom and cumin, a clove or two

this aroma the real reason that brought Vasco da Gama to these verdant shores;

Unhurried cooking so that the flavors could ripen

Maybe the right way to treat a

Once in a lifetime thing

Even if it’s an eggplant 

 

published 14 March 2012