When I moved a little over 2 years ago, I left behind the special oven I bought to make a wild assortment of vegetables. When I devoted myself to losing the equivalent of 12 gallons of weight, I ate bushels of vegetables, each cooked differently with spices.

Yesterday, Erika opened up the beast in me when she deliberately overcooked tomato slices in the oven. I could have devoured 16 tomatoes cooked that way.

This morning, I cleaned and overbaked a container of Japanese shishoto peppers. I seasoned them with garlic and ranch.

While most people do not like charred flavor, for me it is sublime. And it reminds me of when I was very young and acquired a taste for burned things. One of my favorite jokes is that I loved charred food, while my Mom enjoyed burning our houses down. 

If my neighbors below me are awake, it tickles me to wonder what they think I might be cooking before the sun rises. Given the track record of this neighborhood, at least my cooking efforts are culinary rather than chemical.

I have a batch of two differently flavored sliced apples in the oven now. And sugar cane stalk. 

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