Have I bragged about my tomatoes yet? No? A little bit? I GREW MY OWN TOMATOES. Or rather, I didn’t kill the plants I bought at Home Depot. (Speaking of – last week W exclaimed from the back seat: “Wow Mom! Look at that big huge building! Is that the hospital?” Me: “No, that’s Home Depot.”)
I planted them in June-ish, in a soil-filled double sink beside my fence, and they grew a ton of fruit – a small patio variety plus the usual cherries – and they keep on coming, even though their leaves and stalks have started to turn the colour and texture of straw.
A few weeks ago A brought over a fantastic tomato salad made with prime specimens from her in-law’s yard in BC. I couldn’t believe how good it was. I ate it for days, even though it started to turn into a sort of cold, chunky tomato soup. I drank the dregs from the bowl. I emailed to ask for the recipe: tomatoes, a drizzle of olive oil, a drip of balsamic, salt and pepper. Really, that’s all you need when tomatoes are this good.
I did it again: chopped tomatoes and added the wee-est amount of oil, balsamic, S&P. Then mounded it on toast, rubbed with a cut clove of garlic and drizzled with green olive oil.
The cherry pie I (sadly) cannot take credit for – you may recognize it as something photographed in a dark restaurant (get used to this – I’m leaving for Vegas in T minus 19 hours). I went to a special preview screening of Fresh (the movie) at the new District (gastropub) and had a slice of chef Heather’s cherry-strawberry pie, topped with vanilla gelato. If you want the recipe, she has a full-on video on their blog. And if you’re interested in seeing Fresh (the movie), they are offering another (FREE) screening on Tuesday the 15th, with (FREE) eats. (Again, their blog has the details.)
NEXT TIME I POST IT WILL BE FROM VEGAS! We’re (all 18 of us) staying here – ironic that someone who refuses to wear a swimsuit is staying at a hotel with an 11-acre beach in 39 degree weather.
(And what’s over-21, European-style bathing, anyway? Am I too naive to go to Vegas?)