The garden is showing its age. Tomato foliage is bedraggled; it's possible that at least one is suffering from late blight, but finally, the plants have reached some semblance of production. The peppers are beautiful, as is the eggplant.

I see ratatouille in my future, but the bar is high. A friend, wise to food and cooking and France, last week served the best version I've ever had.