Sunday, August 23, 2015
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
Unexpected Delights # 2: Best Tomatoes Ever!
I just had the best tomato of my life. Seriously.
And I bought it from a grocery store.
I grew up on homegrown tomatoes from the rich brown soil of
Louisiana, the red dirt of East Texas, and the black dirt of coastal Texas
farmland. I watched my mother’s father
carefully tend his tomatoes, thumping vines with his thumb or the end of a
garden hose to help them pollinate. I
ate my mother’s mother’s fried green tomatoes in cornmeal batter and her
cucumber and tomato salads. I ate my
mother’s tomato sandwiches with tomatoes from my father’s garden. I ate tomatoes from gardens all over Zachary,
Louisiana. And I have eaten countless local
heirloom tomatoes from farmer’s markets from Vermont, the Hamptons, New York
State, and California. I get tomatoes
almost every week from the Garden of Eden CSA farm. They are all delicious. I love tomatoes, not quite as much as
watermelon, but still…I love tomatoes.
Not the common red thing called a tomato at most grocery
stores and restaurants. I haven’t eaten
those for years.
Still, tonight I had a new tomato experience: dry-farmed
tomatoes.
These tomatoes are grown without any irrigation. They have to dig their roots deep to get
their sustenance. They seek the water
far underground.
And the taste, the taste, oh, I have never tasted such a
rich, sweet, deep, complex tomato.
There is a Vedic chant that translates, “May I be like the
cucumber that when it’s ripe falls from the vine.”
I’d like to propose a new chant, “May I be like the tomato
that digs its roots deep for the sustenance that’s already there and tastes
like heaven.”
For the prosaic-minded parts of ourselves, here’s an article
about dry-farmed tomatoes:
And for those of my readers who live in San Diego, I got
them at Jimbo’s.
Sunday, August 9, 2015
Unexpected Delights # 1
About 6 pm this evening, I was walking on the beach past some kids boogie boarding. The tide was coming in close to the cliffs, and the waves were fun.
Most of the time on these beach walks, no one greets anyone. Everyone just does their own thing, in their isolated bubbles.
But this time, as I walked past some blond teenage boys skidding into shore on their boogie boards, one of them catches my eye, grins, and throws me a frisbee. It soared over my head, but I ran and snatched it up and threw it right back to him--a perfect throw right into his hands--he didn't even have to move--and we laughed, and I walked on, as happy as I could be.
Most of the time on these beach walks, no one greets anyone. Everyone just does their own thing, in their isolated bubbles.
But this time, as I walked past some blond teenage boys skidding into shore on their boogie boards, one of them catches my eye, grins, and throws me a frisbee. It soared over my head, but I ran and snatched it up and threw it right back to him--a perfect throw right into his hands--he didn't even have to move--and we laughed, and I walked on, as happy as I could be.
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