Tomatoes, tomatoes, big fat tomatoes, and tiny little ones. All ripe and juicy.
This weekend will be all about tomatoes. My garden is overflowing. I’m saving the cherry tomatoes to make pasta for my friends, Helen, Mary, and Jan who are coming to visit next week. The big ones I’ll be using to make tomato sauce for the freezer. I’ll probably have a tomato sandwich for lunch. My lovely neighbour brought over a container of her heirloom cherry tomatoes to put some different colours into next week’s pasta. And shortly I’m going to the annual heirloom tomato event at Vicki’s Veggies. This Vicki has nothing to do with me, it’s a small organic farm in Prince Edward County famous across most of Ontario for the quality of its produce. Each Labour Day weekend they have a heirloom tomato tasting. I went last year and it was wonderful. You wouldn’t believe the sizes and colours and tastes that tomatoes come in.
Now that I’m growing my own, I don’t really need to be buying tomatoes – but I’m sure I’ll find a use for them.
At this time of year, Molly Smith will also be knee deep in tomatoes, particaruly as her mother has a big garden. Fiona MacGillivray would likely kill for one, but even at that price, they were not to be found in the Yukon Territory in 1898.
As well as eating and cooking and dreaming about tomatoes, my plan is to finish the final draft of Smith and Winters #4, still tentatively titled Negative Image, and send it off to my agent tomorrow.