Cut your eggplants lengthwise into slabs, roughly half a finger thick — not too thin or they'll disappear in the oil, not too thick or the inside won't surrender properly. Salt them generously on both sides and stand them in a colander for a good 15 minutes. You'll watch the water weep out of them, beading up and dripping. Beautiful. That's exactly what needs to happen. After 15 minutes, grab a kitchen cloth and pat them down hard — don't be gentle, you want them as dry as you can get them.

Into a wide, heavy pan — cast iron if you have it — pour enough olive oil to come up half a finger from the bottom. Set it over medium-high heat and wait. You're waiting until the oil shimmers and moves like water, light and quick, not thick and slow. Test it with a small scrap of eggplant: it should grab that oil immediately and make noise about it.

Fry in batches — don't crowd the pan, I'm serious, you'll steam them and lose everything. Lay the slabs in and then leave them alone for 3 to 4 minutes. No poking, no shuffling. You want a crust that's gone deep golden-brown, almost the color of dark caramel before you flip. Then one turn, another 3 minutes on the other side. Press the center with your finger — the flesh should give completely, no resistance at all. Pull them out onto a kitchen towel to drain and rest.

While the eggplant is resting, build your yogurt. Crush your garlic cloves with a heavy pinch of salt and work it with the flat of your knife until you have a smooth, sharp paste — you're not looking for chunks, you want it fully surrendered. Whisk it into a generous cup of thick yogurt until it's uniform. Now taste it. If it doesn't make you slightly nervous about how much garlic is in there, you need more garlic.

Lay your fried eggplant out on a wide plate — overlapping a little is fine, even good. Scatter fresh parsley over the top and let it fall into the crevices. A small pinch of cumin, a hit of red pepper — pul biber if you have it, cayenne if you don't. Now spoon the garlic yogurt generously over everything, letting it pool and run into the gaps. Finish with a slow drizzle of your best olive oil.

Serve this warm or at room temperature — both are right, don't worry. Bring warm bread to the table and tear it, don't cut it. This is a dish you eat slowly, scooping eggplant and yogurt together with the bread while someone refills the glasses. That's the whole point.