addicted to eggplant

i can't remember exactly how we began talking about this during lunch the other day, but mum asked me what would be the last meal i would request if I were on death row. I was shocked into silence, as you too would be if your mum asked you such a random question. but i couldn't think which food i really like enough to make it to my death row meal.

mum's last meal, which i knew, is Rum Babas from Cavolaro in Footscray. Not only would she have as many rum babas as she could eat on death row, she has also told us repeatedly that when she's dying and it no longer matters if she puts on weight, or the sugar sends her into sugar shock, she wants us to allow her to live her last few days eating just rum babas. writing this out now makes me realise how ridiculous these conversations are. she even refers to it as 'Death by Rum Babas.'

Today, while eating about half a litre of eggplant dip manically, i worked out what my death row meal would be. I am absolutely crazy for eggplant. i love eggplant parmigiana with rich tomato sauce and crusty italian bread, i love marinated eggplant from the deli, even when it has garlic in it. my ex got me hooked on some arabic eggplant dip in a can which tastes like smokiness.

but home made marinated eggplant! my nonna used to make tiny thin slivers of eggplant in oil, and i would eat them until my tongue felt fat in my mouth. as i've gotten older, it's come to the point where i actually think i'm allergic to eggplants, but i keep eating them. Especially marinated eggplants, at easter last weekend i ate so much of my cousin's nonna's chilli hot eggplants that my gums swelled, turned bright red, my tongue became huge in my mouth and i was scratching my lips with my nails... and i kept eating eggplant.

humph.

i just asked my brother what his death row meal would be and he replied 'dunno... don't really think i'd be in the mood.'