My boyfriend doesn’t eat vegetables. I say this in all seriousness. He’s a relatively healthy guy, mind you, though his diet isn’t what you would call diversified. His ideal meal: chicken, mashed potatoes or pasta or white rice, some kind of sauce that is orange or tan, and bread. Soft white. Creamy yellow. Simple, straightforward textures. I, on the other hand am all about the crunchy greens, the crackly browns, and the color. As much color as possible. I do most of the cooking (ok, all of the cooking) around these parts, and he is normally a very good sport about the ways I try to sneak vegetables into every meal. The truth is, though, that left to his own devices he would be more satisfied with a nice big plate of Trader Joe’s frozen Channa Masala than tasting my experimental warm bacon spinach salad (I mean it had bacon on it, and he still was wary!).

So you can imagine my joy when he pronounced this ratatouille (which, just so we’re clear, is all vegetables) the “best meal” I have “ever made.”

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