A JOY FOREVER

Was John Keats gazing on a "love apple" when he penned his immortal words "A thing of beauty is a joy forever."?

Today, as I was gazing on the object of my affection--a perfect tomato--I sighed, and quoted Keats.  My ever-witty brother asked, "How's it gonna be forever if you eat it?"

No photograph can perfectly capture the essence.  Ah, this Big Boy was delicious, but I do prefer the lovely Rutgers.

As I have written previously, 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, I have friends who reward me with their bounty.

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.

The French named tomatoes pommes d'amour--LOVE APPLES--and the French are always so succinct because I love tomatoes.

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 family, and friends enabling my addiction.  I carry a salt shaker in the console of my car;  one never knows when one might encounter the object of one's obsession!

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