With no attempts to revise biblical history, I have concluded that some religious scholars may have erred. I simply do not believe that the fruit hanging from the Tree of Knowledge in the Garden of Eden could have ever been an apple. In my humble opinion there is only one fruit that had the potential to misdirect Eve into morally unsound behavior.
It had to be an heirloom tomato.
Alright, it’s not as romantic and symbolic as the ubiquitous apple and what I’ve written may be considered blasphemy, but when you take that bite of your season’s first heirloom tomato you quickly understand how some things on this planet can just be absolutely perfect as they are and make you want to do bad, bad things just to get another bite.
It might just make you want to write a letter to the editor of the Good Book. Wait, um, on second thought, scratch that.
Heirloom tomatoes have gained popularity in the past decade or so, and that puts one of the biggest smiles on my face. If you’ve never tasted an heirloom (let alone never seen one), you might react by shock and horror and then pure idiotic delight. Simply put, heirlooms are very very old tomatoes, grown from plants and seeds that have been handed down from generation to generation. Because of their lineage, there’s usually a story behind each specific variety.
Labor Day – the last weekend of summer on Martha’s Vineyard, the last opportunity to host weekend guests and the very last weekend to dine with good friends before the “great pack up and go”! (Labor Day for locals – on the other hand is the last weekend of putting up with us and our crowded beaches, crowded streets and crowded restaurants. Their anticipation of reclaiming this beautiful Island is palpable!)
As far back as I can remember, every June my family would make our
annual pilgrimage to Jones' Farm to pick bright red juicy strawberries.
If we didn't leave with a heaping boxful then we didn't do our jobs.
But as a kid I would always end up picking more for myself than for the
box, eating every other berry and leaving with the tell-tale signs on
my hands and face. I was just as guilty as the next kid, so actually I
didn't feel that bad. Now as an adult I typically taste only one and
try to keep myself from eating any more. I'm really just saving up for
gorging on them in the privacy of my own home.
My love of pasta is no secret, but I’m cutting back. An article in the New York Times covering the latest research about the benefit of low carbohydrate diets has me rethinking my noodle consumption. I won’t give them up completely but now and again I can see trying something different. Something like zucchini noodles.
I’m not a big raw bell pepper fan, but the smoky sweetness of a roasted pepper always appeals to me.
