Summer Vegetable Gratin

This is the dish you make when you come home from the farmers' market with more than you intended to buy. The zucchini was so firm and glossy. The tomatoes smelled like actual tomatoes. The eggplant had that taut skin that tells you it was picked this morning. You could not leave any of it behind.

A gratin asks very little of you. Slice the vegetables thin and even, layer them in a dish with good oil and fresh herbs, and let the oven do the rest. The heat coaxes out their juices, which mingle and reduce into something concentrated and sweet. The technique gets out of the way so the ingredients can speak.

I learned to make this in the South of France, where every kitchen has a version and every cook believes theirs is correct. The truth is that the dish belongs to whoever grows the vegetables. Your gratin will taste like your garden, your market, your summer. That is the whole point.

Buy from a farmer who picked that morning. Look for zucchini and squash no longer than your hand, with stems still attached. Tomatoes should give slightly when pressed and smell sweet at the stem end. Eggplant should feel heavy and have no soft spots. When the ingredients are right, your only job is to not ruin them.