Jim handed me the first red tomato from the vine.
We started our relationship with this tomato over the winter when we planted their seeds in soil and put them under grow lights. And we regularly check on their water and light levels. Jim and I were excited to see the first sprouts and laughed when nearly all of the 100 or so seeds turned into little plants. We found homes for some of our overabundance of sprouts and planted the rest in our brand new box that Jim designed and built just for these plants. We've been cautious about weeding and watering. We've treated these plants very well. I don't think J-Lo gets better care while she's touring. If they asked for pink M&M's and a handspun silver boa, our tomato plants would get pink M&M's and the prettiest handspun silver boa, darn it.
I turned the first red tomato over in my hand admiring it, and feeling proud of our journey.
Then Willa asked for it.
I watched her, only the week before, eat 7 tomatoes from my parent's garden.
She put it in her mouth, bit down, spit it on to the driveway, and walked away.
Jim and I looked at each other. He told me he wanted to share it with me. We looked at the fruit, chewed up and spit out on the driveway.
On some days, this is a good simile for parenting.
Over the weekend Jim and I ate the second and third (nearly - we couldn't wait) red tomatoes.
And they were fantastic.
Send your recipes and preservation techniques my way please, folks. Over the next few weeks, we're going to be up to our elbows in tomatoes.