Friday, September 13, 2013

The way I feel about tomatoes is IMMORAL: I lust after them. I have had enablers all my life: MOTHER always allowed me to have the FIRST tomato of the season; my brother shares his FIRST tomato of the season with me and, of course, Gerald presents me the first tomato from the garden.

Tomatoes are indigenous to the New World; Aztecs cultivated and ate them. When the Spaniards took them to Europe in the sixteenth century, many thought they were poisonous. Tomatoes are in the same family as tobacco and the deadly Mandrake! Some thought they were an aphrodisiac. (CLICK HERE to see an article on love apples.)

The French named them pommes d'amour--LOVE APPLES--and the French are always so succinct because I LOVE tomatoes. (CLICK HERE to read another article.)

I want them HOT from the garden; I will wash the dirt off--with HOT water--and grab the salt shaker. As I say, "I never met a tomato I didn't like", and this season has been splendid with Gerald, family, and friends enabling my addiction! Ah, but the lovely Rutgers is my favorite.

Oh, sadly, the season is nearly over and soon I will be cursing those PLASTIC tomatoes in the grocery!

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Now I know why I saw you at the Mental Health Clinic--depression for lack of tomatoes! ML