Baba ganoush

Or however you spell that. There was an aging eggplant under the detritus of vegetables, or “veg,” as they so annoyingly say on America’s Test Kitchen, in my crisper drawer. And just moments before it was trashable, it made its way to the grill.

Baba ganoush is not one of my go-to foods. In fact, except for the parsley, garlic, tahini and vague taste of burnt, there is no flavor I can discern. The eggplant adds nothing identifiable except long fibrous strands which pretty much seem like hair and therefore render the dish not quite as appetizing as one might like. I didn’t really enjoy seeing the gloopy strands hanging from the lentil chips (Yes, lentil chips) as I dipped into the mess. But I ate it.