Monday, September 24, 2012

A short tomato story

I picked the last three, cracked tomatoes.

Brought them down to the kitchen to join a couple of small Brandywines that had been ripening indoors, and the ever-present Mexican Heirlooms.

 Sliced'em. Salted and peppered and oiled 'em.

Smothered 'em in Vermont burrata, with a lashing of terrace basil.

I never did get tired of the tomatoes. I miss them already.
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