Tomatoes

When I went shopping last week, I bought some new "gourmet tomatoes." They came in a plastic "bin" with a flip top lid and holes for air flow. (As an aside, I've been thinking, although they are recyclable, that these would make greater starter pots for seeds.)

Anyway, there were 5 kinds of tomatoes: yellow cherry (go figure) tomatoes, orange cocktail tomatoes, red grape tomatoes, mini plum tomatoes (some were shaped almost like a teeny tiny butternut squash), and the deepest red, almost purple-black "exotic" tomatoes I've ever seen. I think it was the exotic tomato that had most striking tomato taste exploding in the mouth that I've had in a long time, but it may have been the plum. Campari tomatoes on the vine have a great flavor, but that little exotic tomato was divine! I ate them simply with fresh ground sea salt and mixed peppers.

I remember back in the early days of our book when our editor brought my husband and me to Philadelphia for a meeting. She was supposed to take us to dinner at this Black Cat Cafe near the university; she became ill but told us to go anyway and she would pay. There I had my first baby wild greens salad. The greens were so tiny, they still had the roots attached as did the baby carrots. This is nearly 15 years ago when my acquaintance with foods was very narrow and my palate unsophisticated. This salad, though, was a marvel to me. I could not get enough of examining each little green and veggie, and I was delighted at the taste sensation. It must have taken me half an hour to eat that salad as my husband and I laughed and remarked on the shapes, colors, and taste of each little green the whole time. Although I credit moving to California for teaching me to appreciate the nutrition and variety of salads, this was my first experience with a salad that was not based on iceberg lettuce (the bottom feeder of lettuces). I may have had a Cesar or two prior to this, but not sure about that now. I don't remember anything else we ate that night. I'm sure it was delicious and above the bar, but I only remember the salad.

What does that have to do with the tomatoes. Well, they were kind of like that, too. I, who used to eat only what I'd been raised on and in the manner in which my mother cooked, have come a long way, baby, in my appreciation for foods and the myriad ways they can be prepared.

I think I understand why many food critics and chefs are fat. They LOVE food. I don't think they're over-eating for psychological reasons. I think they just relish the colors, flavors, and textures of the vast array of foods and spices we have available to us today through modern technology and transportation. I'm with them in that (although admittedly some of my eating is still psychological).