Thursday morning No. 7.

Some days -- if I'm still -- I can feel the Internet getting the best of me. I once mistook it for the World, but now I know it's really the Internet. We hang out here an awful lot, and -- seeing that it's limitless and all -- it can feel pretty daunting. I don't know how to walk away, nor do I really want to; so much of my life is connected to this thing I only sort of understand (I have good people who explain the complicated parts to me). I rely on it for so much, and I am thankful for the family and friends it keeps close despite distance. I am thankful for the new ideas and people it introduces to me. I am beyond thankful for the opportunities it provides, the infinite possibilities of my own life, re-imagined through its cyber lens.

I received a text message the other day from a friend that reminded me to "smile eat walk love." Then: "there's nothing more than that." So simple, and so true. Sometimes we need to go the simple route, like I did this morning. A full French press and my new coffee set, two slices of perfect sourdough toast, generous pats of butter and my aunt's triple berry jam. WNYC. And because few meals feel complete without a little company, my old friend the World Wide Web.

Anything pasta, even with eggplant.

Around this time of year a few years back, I remember thinking that if I never saw another summer squash, I'd be fine. I'd had my fill, so to speak, and frankly, I was running out of ideas on ways to use the abundant vegetable. This year, I feel the same way about eggplant. Don't get me wrong, I love both. But how much of either can a person eat? A fairly creative person, no less.

Last week, faced with more eggplant from my CSA share, I attempted a pasta dish similar to one typically served in early summer, at the beginning of eggplant season. Spaghetti di melanzane, or spaghetti in eggplant, is a delicious, light and simple pasta perfect for warm weather. At Sfoglia, where I once worked, they top theirs with ricotta salata, and it adds a nice tang to an otherwise earthy dish. I didn't have any ricotta salata, and I was out of spaghetti. But I did have some hearty whole wheat fusilli, and I thought it would hold a chunky expression of this dish nicely.

I started by roasting several eggplants -- thinly sliced, skins and all -- in extra-virgin olive oil with a few whole cloves of garlic. After 35 to 40 minutes, they were almost oozing and I removed them from the oven, transferred them to a mixing bowl, and smashed them with a little more extra-virgin olive oil, a squeeze of fresh lemon juice and a little pasta water. Then, I added my al dente fusilli and some crushed red pepper flakes. The whole wheat pasta made for a much heavier meal than the one I recalled. But, it was perfect for a mid-autumn night: filling and flavorful. I just might make this one more time. I do have a few more eggplants, and a mean hankering for anything pasta.

Hot apples for raw kale.

I can confess to a many odd food tastes: I salt and pepper melon, and I don't care for dessert. I think most meals -- including, at times, breakfast -- are better when started with soup. My roommate says I have an uncomfortable relationship with expiration dates, and by that he means I don't think they exist; I have no problem scraping mold off cheese, or bread for that matter. I think a corn dog with yellow mustard is the world's best guilty pleasure, and I love raw kale more than any other leafy green. Of all these quirks, this last one gets the most criticism. Some say raw kale is too tough and can feel almost waxy on the tongue. Others question why I wouldn't quickly sauté or steam the vegetable when it makes such an easy difference. I have no good excuse, I just like it. And I think I've hit upon a recipe that might make the naysayers like it, too.

Over the weekend, I was sautéeing some apples, intending to put them atop hot cereal. But when my roommates arrived home with our CSA share, and in the bag was a gorgeous bunch of kale, I changed my plan. After washing and drying a few leaves, I cut them into chiffonades. Then, almost spontaneously, I poured the hot sautéed apples -- extra-virgin olive oil and all -- into the salad bowl. I added a pinch of salt and a squeeze of lemon, and I tossed the salad a few times. The heat from the apples softened the raw kale ever so slightly, and their sweetness combined wonderfully with the earthiness of the greens. The lemon kept things bright, the salt honest. If I'd had some walnuts, I would've toasted them and added them for texture. Raw red onion and a little chevre might find their way into the next incarnation. And there will be many more incarnations...

Kale with sautéed apples

One bunch kale, washed and dried
5 medium apples
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons sucanat
Juice of 1 lemon
1 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste

Chiffonade kale leaves -- removing stems -- and set aside in large salad bowl.

Core and quarter apples, immediately tossing with juice of half a lemon to prevent discoloration. (I prefer to leave the skins on.)

Heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a medium-sized skillet over medium heat, add apples. Cook, stirring every few minutes, until apples start to break down (5 minutes). Add the 1 teaspoon of salt and sugar. Continue to cook until apples soften completely (10 minutes). The olive oil, lemon juice from the apples and sugar will bind into a loose sauce.

In a large salad bowl, combine kale with hot apples. There should be enough liquid remaining in the pan to dress greens. Add remaining lemon juice.

Salt to taste.

Serves 4.