The best things are the simplest. I write this in early March, when there is a lot of snow on the ground. And it is barely above freezing days. And I hate Iowa. Next pic, please.
And I do dream of summer tomatoes. Heirlooms, sure. But also just Burpee garden variety tomatoes. With some basil. No vinaigrette. Maybe some salt and pepper. Maybe not.
And then maybe some cucumbers. On the deck. (next pic please). Overlooking the miserable tomato vines that I try to grow almost every year, from the glorious smelly young plants the farmers at the market sell before there's anything else to sell, except maybe rhubarb or greens.
And then, about the fourth of July, I realize, again, that I am no farmer, nor even a vegetable gardener. I am just a tomato eater. And a pretty good one.
I am, however, an excellent tomato slicer. And that is really all it takes. Some say it doesn't even take that. Some eat tomatoes like apples, whole, just biting into them, and letting the juice go where it goes.
Not me. I am civilized. See the pics?
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