Confession time...
I love tomatoes.
I love them warm
off the vine
On a buttermilk biscuit for breakfast.
I love them sliced
thin in a BLT.
I love them under a perfect poached egg,
drizzed with balsamic vinegar.
I love them as garden grazing, with a leaf of basil,
as I water and prune.
And I especially love tomatoes that have never
been inside a refrigerator.
I have failed every year I have tried to grow tomatoes.
For those doing the math, that's 15 years of carefully cosseted tomato
plants reluctantly handing over a few ripe tomatoes and baskets of green
ones.
Which in in turn means the annual end-of-season Fried Green Tomatoes Party.
To my friends who look forward to that, so sorry to disappoint!
Look at this DAY'S WORTH of edible berries of the nightshade Solanum lycopersicum.
In the words of Chef Spicoli... duuuuuuuude!
This
year's garden is a triumph of tomatoes... and perhaps a sign of the
greater trend of global climate change. So, there's that.
Or maybe the garden goddesses were smiling on my yard this year?
Here's the line up...
I will make tomato sauce this year!
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