Saturday, July 23, 2011

My money's on the tomatoes.

OK, I have a race tomorrow and I should be losing my shit for your entertainment right now over that, but I just can't go one more minute without HOLY SHIT IT'S #1 (and 2) TOMATO DAY.

We're #1! (and 2. Which is less exciting but still delicious.)

So, fine, *today* is not the day, *Today* was last Tuesday and the #1 Tomato wasn't some big bruiser that I watched from its pea-sized green infancy and correctly predicted would ripen first and then cuddled and gently squoze and mother henned over until it peed my hand and therefore was plucked, but it was still the #1 Tomato and hot damn was it good.

And its #2 was also good.

I'm actually not sure which one was #1 and which was #2. The numbering system is failing me. Shocking.

Since Tuesday, well, it's actually started looking a lot like summer out in the garden and some of those frustratingly green tomatoes have started to turn yellowish, orange-ish and in some cases, downright FINALLY red.

I call this shade of red, "FINALLY".
Now, you might think that with all the First Tomato Plans we've had in the past, that we'd have had similar plans for this year's first tomato. That maybe we were sitting nearby, sharpening the chef's knife against the steel, possibly drooling, and stacking up slices of toasted sourdough in anticipation of perhaps a beautiful #1 Tomato Sandwich, but you'd be wrong.

We had no plans. We had no bread. I don't even know how to properly use the steel to sharpen knives and, hey, I've got that proprietary tomato knife that's just taking up precious drawer space otherwise. So, when the #1 Tomato broke free of the the plant and sat its fat little butt down in my hand (followed by its buddy who did the same), it just became an odd part of our dinner that was already in progress.

Yeah. Normally potstickers and green beans aren't served with tomato wedges, but then normally I'm not so overwhelmed by green beans that the tomatoes take me by surprise.
As it turned out, fresh tomato isn't the worst accompaniment to sauteed fresh green beans in a soy tahini sauce and pork potstickers.

Frankly, I might just start making this dish with tomatoes on top from now on because, let's be honest, fresh tomatoes from the garden make everything better.

I'll have to try them on ice cream.

Or with a quesadilla.
I'm afraid I've been treating these tomatoes terribly. I mean, who honors the first tomatoes of the season by throwing them on a plate next to a quickie quesadilla and a bunch of Sun Gold cherry tomatoes that just happened to make their way all the way back to the house after a stroll through the garden?

Me. I'll save you the mental exercises. It's me. I do this. I spend all winter pining and planning and bemoaning the absence of fresh tomatoes only to pluck the first ones from the plants and then just throw them into any old thing I'm eating without any sort of celebration or parade or sacrificing of first borns.

I should be ashamed of myself.

Or I guess we can just look at it like I was so excited to have tomatoes again that I shoved aside all the pomp and circumstance and just let it happen.

Yes, let's look at it like that.

Though I do have plans for these guys.

Firstly, I must tame the plants because OH.

And by OH, I mean OH SHIT.
And also tonight, in preparation for the race that I feel woefully unprepared for tomorrow, I'll make the first tomato salad of the season with a tomato from today's impromptu Too Big For The Tea Mug harvest and some of the buttload of cucumbers that are shoving things out of the crisper and hope that the magic powers of the tomato extend to fortifying unprepared runners for a road race.

   
There's a Better Boy at the bottom. Which explains why this mug was immediately at capacity. Also, look at the cute bee on the rim. CUTE.




Yes. That will be a better way to honor the tomatoes. And get rid of some cucumbers. And distract me from the fact that I'm running a 10K tomorrow after spending my last Long Training Run drinking beer from a boot.

Good job, me. Go tomatoes.

4 comments:

  1. Yay You!

    I think we are neck-and-neck in the Tomato Realm (actually, I think I might be beating you - my mater plants are about to gobble-up my house!).

    Got any good "I need to freeze 850# of tomatoes" recipes to share?

    Good Luck in the Race tomorrow. Don't do anything *too* embarrassing!

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  2. Yay for your tomatoes for not being lazy whores. You're like a tomato pimp I guess. Maybe you should have a pimp stick. OR.. your tea mug can be your pimp cup.

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  3. Go tomatoes, indeed. And go Finny.

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  4. I'm so jealous of your gorge tomatoes!! I'm in Texas and my plants already sighed and layed down for a long, final nap. Even when they were going kind of strong, I didn't get anything even closely resembling your tomatoes. I bought the soil test kit you use and am going to use that before I replant for fall tomatoes. Last year I got more tomatoes in November/December than during the spring anyway, so I think I give up and I'll just start planting for fall only. :-(

    ReplyDelete

[2013 update: You can't comment as an anonymous person anymore. Too many douchebags were leaving bullshit SPAM comments and my inbox was getting flooded, but if you're here to comment in a real way like a real person, go to it.]

Look at you commenting, that's fun.

So, here's the thing with commenting, unless you have an email address associated with your own profile, your comment will still post, but I won't have an email address with which to reply to you personally.

Sucks, right?

Anyway, to remedy this, I usually come back to my posts and post replies in the comment field with you.

But, if you ever want to email me directly to talk about pumpkins or shoes or what it's like to spend a good part of your day Swiffering - shoot me an email to finnyknitsATgmailDOTcom.

Cheers.