As cool as I want my kids to be, they're just like any other kid. They don't love eggplant unless it is covered in cheese.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
I just don't tend to cook eggplant at home.
People in my neighborhood are so disconnected from the fresh food supply that kids don't know an eggplant from a sweet potato. We have to show them how to get grounded in the truest sense of the word.
My kids like their eggs with catsup. I like mine with salsa.
Eggs is a kind of a plucky, brave 11-year-old boy who thinks he is a boxtroll. And he's kind of one of these mythological feral children who are raised in isolation of humanity and, by virtue of that, have a deeper connection to humanity because they've been raised away from the poisons of society.
I love kids with a passion I usually reserve for hot cheese, miniature chairs, and Prince concerts, but I feel no stress to reproduce simply because of a fear of withering eggs.
I'm a vegetarian who doesn't like eggplant parmesan. Isn't that awful? I'm also sick of portobello mushrooms. People are like, 'A vegetarian's coming to dinner,' so they serve those.
When you cut that eggplant up and you roast it in the oven and you make the tomato sauce and you put it on top, your soul is in that food, and there's something about that that can never be made by a company that has three million employees.
Food is a big part of my culture, so everyone knows how to cook. When I came to America and asked a babysitter to softboil an egg for my son and she didn't know how, I was shocked.
The thing with children is they're a bit like baking a fruitcake: you throw all the ingredients in but you never know how they're going to turn out.
I make the best eggplant parmigiana. Except maybe my mother. The way she makes it is delicious. If I told you how, I'd have to kill you.