A neighbor’s away on vacation this week and has told several of us to help ourselves to whatever is ripe in their garden while they’re gone–I walked over this morning to check for a couple of tomatoes and possible a cantaloupe.
I waited too long to check, the cantaloupes were gone and the tomatoes looked picked over. I did find, hidden under a fallen vine, a couple of ripe tomatoes.
While growing up my family always had a large (huge) garden and lived off its produce most of the year–fresh vegetables in the late spring, summer and fall with canned and frozen ones during the winter months.
Then, I didn’t appreciate fresh vegetables as much as I do now. To get me to eat tomatoes Mom would place a thick slice in a homemade biscuit. There was no getting around it, I had to eat it before I was allowed to leave the table (that was the age of parents actually disciplining and making their children do stuff.) At the time it seemed to me I had to eat a tomato biscuit almost every summer meal.
They must have had a delayed reaction–these days a fresh slice of tomato on a good biscuit is one of my favorite things in the summer. Go figure?