Two or three summers during my adolescence, my father decided to grow a couple of acres of tomatoes to sell to a ketchup factory in a nearby town. It was backbreaking work and I suspect didn't pay enough to be worth the effort because it wasn't a long term project. However, I think I know a few things about how tomatoes smell and taste -- real ones, good ones. I know too that taste depends on the soil and the sun and all those natural factors. And that even the expensive "heirloom" tomatoes in our markets don't have the sweet "real" tomato taste that I am now looking for.
It's been a long time since I actually picked a tomato off a vine, rinsed it, cut it up and ate it. But I did this past weekend. Above is a hearty big tomato plant in Rachel's backyard with ripe tomatoes pictured here and many more green or turning reddish that aren't seen.
PLUS -- ta-da -- basil was growing around the mailbox so I brought in a few leaves, snipped them in pieces over the sliced tomato. Viola! All ones needs as a side dish for a nice bowl of New England clam chowder. Ah, yes, it was a lovely weekend.
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