The Eggplant Song

My mom is a little bit obsessed with a singer named Michael Franks. I have no idea where this guy came from; I can't remember ever hearing one of his songs on the radio. And yet, anytime she cooks for a big meal or cleans the house or is just home alone working on a project, you can absolutely expect to hear this man's quirky jazzy music blasting throughout our house.

When I was in high school or came home from college during the holidays, it used to drive me a little bit crazy. Our house is on the large side with pretty fantastic acoustics, and my room happens to be right in the center of the house. I've nicknamed it the "chamber of sounds," because it's right next to the main vents and pipes for the central air, heating, vacuum, and water are. Which of course means that it is also where the sound of anything and EVERYTHING that goes on in the house (dish washing, laundry doing, showering, Michael Franks-blasting) congregates, thereby making it impossible to do anything but give up on trying to read or watch TV and instead spend the afternoon listening to the dish-washing, laundry doing, showering, and Michael Franks-blasting that is going on elsewhere.

It was on one of these afternoons that I, against my will, learned the lyrics to the Eggplant song. I just thought of them again recently when I asked my mom to send me along a specific recipe that I remembered her making. In the instructions she noted that she doesn't always make it the same way twice, "you know, like in the Michael Franks Eggplant song."

I'm totally the same way and thought I'd share the lyrics. You can check out the video here (please excuse the man's mullet and large 'stache. It was the early 90s.)

Eggplant
Michael Franks
From: The Art of Tea

Whenever I explore the land of Yen
I always take one on the chin
And now this lioness has almost made me tame.
I can't pronounce her name but
Eggplant is her game.

The lady sticks to me like white on rice.
She never cooks the same way twice.
Maybe it's the mushrooms. Maybe the tomatoes.
I can't reveal her name but Eggplant is her game.

When my baby cooks her Eggplant,
She don't read no book.
She's got a Giocanna kinda of dirty look

And my baby cooks her Eggplant,
Bout 19 different ways.
Sometimes I just have it raw with Mayonnaise.

Maybe its the way she grates her cheese,
Or just the freckles on her knees.
Maybe its the scallions. Maybe she's Italian.
I can't reveal her name but Eggplant is her game.

When my baby cooks her Eggplant,
She don't read no book.
She's got a Giocanna kinda of dirty look.

And my baby cooks her Eggplant,
Bout 19 different ways.
Sometimes I just have it raw with Mayonnaise.