Put the whole eggplant directly over a gas flame — burner, grill, whatever you have with actual fire — and turn it every minute or two with tongs or a long fork. The skin will blister, crack, blacken in patches. Good. That is exactly what you want. After 10 to 12 minutes the flesh inside will go completely soft, the eggplant will start to slump and collapse when you press it gently. You'll smell it — deep, smoky, almost sweet. Don't pull it off early. Let the char spread all the way around. The black skin is not a mistake, it is the whole reason you are doing this.

Set the charred eggplant on a plate and give it 2 minutes — just long enough that you don't burn your hands. Then split it open with a knife and scoop every bit of the soft smoky flesh into a bowl. Leave the blackened skin behind on the plate. Do not rinse the flesh, do not wash it, do not fuss with it. Those dark flecks clinging to the inside? That is flavour. Leave them.

Crush the garlic cloves flat with the side of your knife, then mince them fine and mash them into the yogurt until completely smooth — no chunks, no sharp raw pieces hiding in there. Add your salt now and stir it all together. The yogurt should be thick, cool, a little tangy. That is what will hold the smoke and the lemon in check.

Fold the eggplant into the garlic yogurt — not stirred, folded, gently, two or three slow turns. Let it stay a little streaky, a little marbled, uneven. That roughness is honest. Now pour in the lemon juice and fold again, just twice more. Taste it. It should hit you smoky first, then bright from the lemon, then the garlic comes in behind. If it tastes flat, a little more lemon. If it tastes sharp, a little more yogurt. Trust your mouth.

Spread it all into a wide shallow bowl — don't pile it, spread it, so the oil has somewhere to pool. Now pour olive oil across the top and I mean pour it, a real generous drizzle, not the nervous little drops of someone who is afraid of good oil. Crack black pepper lightly over the surface. Scatter fresh parsley across everything — green against pale purple, it is beautiful and it belongs there, this is not garnish, this is part of the dish. Serve at room temperature with warm bread, a cold glass, good company, and no hurry.