Okay, first, yeah, the eggplants were tiny. Like teeny tiny. They were literally the size of duck eggs, if they were even that big.
I saw them in the grocery, and I was like, "Oh! Look at those adowaboo li'l eggplants! I gotta get 'em!" #4 daughter was coming to dinner, so I got three. I said to my husband, "I know you don't care for eggplant, but these are so wee, you'll hardly know you're eating one, right?" He's like, "Whatever."
An additional attraction was the stickers they had on them.
I cut each eggplant in half, smeared them with olive oil and Jane's Crazy Mixed-Up Salt, and put them in the George Foreman-style Rip-off Grill until they were blackened outside and creamy inside.
And -- joy of joys! -- nobody else wanted theirs! Well, Charlie ate half of his, the dear man, but #4 Daughter, although a fan of Indian food, informed me that eggplant isn't a taste she cares for.
MORE FOR ME!
Today is the next-to-last day of Story A Day May. Feel free to hop over to my blog and read today's story and, indeed, all the many free stories posted there. You also have my permission to buy as many of my books and story collections you fancy. You're welcome. ;)
Marian Allen, Author Lady
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