*That’s the sound of me eating a Brandywine tomato. It is, perhaps, one of the best sounds in the world.
My tomatoes are a little like me — we’re often fashionably late. So, while everyone else was eating fresh tomatoes, I was getting bitter.
I pleaded with my tomatoes. I watered them. I sang to them. I danced for them.
And today, I picked FOUR BRANDYWINE TOMATOES! (And ate two.)
Seriously — I have yet to find anything that beats a big ol’ heirloom tomato. Nothing. Perhaps it’s the fact that tomatoes have a short season. Or perhaps it’s some sort of weird placebo effect. Either way, I’m filled to the brim with tomato love tonight.
And, if all the little un-ripe tomatoes actually ripen, September is shaping up to be AWESOME.