I started developing a liking in egg plant salads after my inaugural visit to a Turkish restaurant a year ago.
Having no particular liking for non leafy vegetables since young, I was generally apprehensive about filling up my tummy with this.
But it was rude not to eat, especially in front of the host, so I took a morsel.
And the rest, they say, is history.

With that said, I have to admit Egg plant salad does not look remotely delicious.
And for some, it taste strangely gooey and utter disgusting.
It’s a no-in-between dish, you either love it or totally hate it.

What I do like about this dish besides the health benefits of the eggplant - that I will touch on later, is the spices and flavor that are included in the dish.
I’m all about the wonderful emotions that flavors bring to my palate.
To me, my journey to find great food is my quest to bring unto myself all the fabulous sparks of emotions that flavours evoke when they explode in my mouth.

It also helps that the food I adore are healthy – to some extend.

Eggplants, I’ve realized after I ‘googlefied’ it is :
- Low in Saturated Fat, Sodium, and Cholesterol
- High in Dietary Fiber, Folate, Potassium, Manganese, Vitamin C, Vitamin K, Thiamin, Niacin, Vitamin B6, 
   Pantothenic Acid, Magnesium, Phosphorus and Copper

It’s also high in antioxidants and considered to be a type of brain food.

And since I’m typically lacking in all that is listed above and a definitive anti-pill popper (I can’t really swallow too many pills, it’s a psychological thing),
Eggplants are perhaps the closest I get to obtaining all that I need.

There’s just nothing like a nice cup of coffee to soothe my soul.
***

I’m a coffee addict. 
But I’m not a junkie maniac.
I don’t down a gazillion cups a day,
I’m an addict simply because I don’t mind traveling across the little red dot to taste the best brew.

It’s insane, I know.
But I guess besides being a personal taste issue,
The love for the bean is also deeply rooted within me emotionally.

My parents love coffee.
My father especially.

I remember very vividly the smell of a new brew every Sunday morning when I was growing up.
My father worked really hard back then,
There were times when I hardly ever see him for weeks at a stretch.
He’ll leave before I wake up and come back only when I’m sound asleep.
The aroma floating in the air is the only indication I get if my dad is around when I open my eyes.

So I guess I yearned to smell the aroma not just because of the actual cuppa per Se,
But rather because I wanted to be with my dad.

With the recession in the late 90s,
My dad didn’t have to work late hours anymore.
And while it does mean the finances were slightly tighter,
I was happy because I could see my dad more often.
And he did.
Every morning before I head to school,
I’ll see a fresh brew of coffee waiting for me at the dinning table.
And it was the best coffee I’ve had because my daddy made it for me.

My love for my own black gold didn’t really start until I was much older.
My dad would stop at coffee joints to have a cuppa and take a rest.
Sometimes we’ll try a great brew, sometimes we don’t.
Though of no fault of my own, whenever we taste something that doesn’t do coffee justice, I’ll feel like I’ve wasted my father’s time.  

Perhaps that’s where my obsession to find that perfect brew began.
And somewhere along that line, I’ve picked up a love for photography – something that my daddy loved as well and a passion to find good food.

So here begins my crusade
A little memory bank saved in ink.
Of all the little tasty bits I’ve tried so far.