The eggplant, I presume, is that homely comestible served up in homely ways by our homely Aunt Mame in her homely little home in the west. Whereas its French speaking cousin the aubergine ... Glossily voluptuous in her purple peignoir, bathed in olivine nectar from the South, fragrant with garlic, beloved of Matisse & cherished of Pablo; apotheosed by Cezanne, glorified by Colette .... Then winging eastward to the gates of Stamboul - to the very towers & the glaring, terrible ovens of Topkapi where she waits adorning & marinating herself for the delight of the Sultan himself .... Yes, Dan, I concur. Pumpkins! I beseech them. In the bowels of etc ... Scottie B.