I love peaches.
September is back.
And I find, still, that I miss school. I miss the stuff of it. It’s been too many years since I’ve bought school supplies.
There’s something about this meal that is just so honest.
It isn’t flashy. Or even particularly pretty. It is eggplant, slumped and simmered. Simple.
Weeknights beg for meals like this.
The market has been full of beautiful peppers. The usual bell peppers in red, orange, yellow and green, jalapeños, Hungarian wax, Trinidadian perfume, poblanos, and fiery habañeros.
It’s been a hot summer in Chicago. This July and August we’ve watched the mercury climb into the nineties more days than I care to count.
Don’t they look lovely? A little bit exotic?
I know I’ve seen them before, sitting in baskets at the farmers market, pale and papery, like tiny tomatillos or ornamental lanterns.