AND THE LIVING (AND EATING) IS EASYThe very first ratatouille I remember making, although heaven knows that there must have been others before, was for our wedding lunch. Eggplant and zucchini, tomatoes and garlic long simmered until tender, the flavors mellowing like old gentlemen growing tender and drowsy in the mid-summer heat, yet concentrating into something intensely sweet with a hint of the smoky, was nestled inside delicately bland choux pastries. A rustic buffet reminiscent of a pastoral picnic spread out before the dozen guests, hunks of artisan cheese and loaves of baguettes, terrines and pâté surrounded by crispy cornichons, summer salads
