Precisely because Vietnam is so rich in vegetables. The ratatouille of our home, that I want to prepare ahead of time

Whenever I go to the markets in Ho Chi Minh City, there are certain vegetables that always catch my eye. Glossy, jet-black eggplants, each as big as a child's arm. Red, yellow, and green bell peppers, wonderfully heavy and thick-fleshed. Thin-skinned, deep-red tomatoes that come from Da Lat up in the highlands. And zucchini that look a little different from the Japanese kind, but are dependably large and hearty. None of them are anything special. Go to the market and they're always there, lined up in their usual spot as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Every time I see vegetables like these, the dish I want to make is ratatouille.

Even buying all this, it comes to about 80,000 VND — around 500 yen in Japanese currency. It's a home-style dish from the south of France, but it actually pairs really well with market vegetables from Vietnam. In fact, precisely because this is a land where you can get such an abundance of vegetables, I've come to think it's a dish that truly shines in everyday life. The way to make it is very simple. That said, in our household we have two rules. Cut the eggplant and zucchini into fairly large pieces and deep-fry them plain. At first I used to sauté them, but deep-frying them plain keeps the outline of the vegetables much more distinct.

Even after simmering, it holds its shape well, and the satisfaction you feel when you take a bite is truly on another level. And then, char the paprika over an open flame until it turns completely black.

Its appearance is charred to an astonishing degree, but once you let it cool and peel off the skin, the flesh that emerges from within is meltingly soft. The sweetness has intensified dramatically too, as if it had turned into an entirely different vegetable.

When you're ready, add garlic, plenty of tomatoes, and just a little tomato paste, and simmer slowly and thoroughly. There's such joy in watching the vegetables gently meld together in the pot, gradually turning into a glossy red sauce.

The finished ratatouille is a splendid dish all on its own. It makes a great companion to a chilled glass of white wine, and it's also delicious spread over bread. But come the next day, the flavors settle even further, and the savory richness has deepened. The tastes of all the vegetables have melded together completely, seeming to melt right there in the pot. Even though the chunks still hold their presence, the harmony of the flavors is on another level. And what's most convenient of all is how versatile it is. You can turn it into a pasta sauce, or layer it with cheese to make something lasagna-like. You can mix it with eggs and use it as an omelet filling, or stir-fry it with rice to make a fried rice packed with vegetables. It can even become an ingredient for curry... though I usually finish it off before it gets that far. My recent favorite is to pile it onto a baguette and toast it lightly. Even on a busy day, just having a pot of ratatouille in the fridge means I don't have to panic over "what should I make today.

This is a luxury made possible precisely because I live in a country where vegetables are cheap and delicious. Back when I was living in Japan, I thought of ratatouille as a slightly fancy Western dish, but ever since I started living in Vietnam, my impression completely changed. Using plenty of vegetables available at the market, it keeps well and can be transformed into any number of variations. It's an indispensable part of my kitchen here in Vietnam — a staple in our home. Expat Life Ranking