I Shoulda' Taken A Pic....

So.

Today at the local farmer's market I spied a tomato. It was a beautiful tomato. I shall call it "The Tomato."

The Tomato was an heirloom tomato of historic pedigree to be sure. The Tomato was a vine-ripened and succulent specimen, squat, broad, oddly shaped, an unlikely beauty the likes of which has escaped me so far 'lo these many years.

The Tomato called to me. I reached into the wooden crate... I hesitated. Should I pick it up? Could I? Were my intentions honorable? Or, was my more base appetite rearing its ugly head again?

I held it. The amazing weight of The Tomato in my hand, all I could envision was its taste. I absolutely needed to eat The Tomato. It was over one pound, and it was going to be my dinner. The sole course, as it were. I purchased the object of my desire.

As few people know, there is nothing quite so delicious as a sun-warmed, vine-ripened tomato. I brought it home. I washed it lovingly. I dried it (even more lovinginly). I placed it upon the cutting board. I hesitated as I raised my knife...

The first cut was the deepest. One entire lobe, now separated from the body. Red inside - so much ripe flesh and not too much juice.

I raised it to my lips... I opened my mouth... wait. I need wine. One simply CANNOT partake without a very full glass of Two-Buck Chuck. And a napkin.

Okay. I am ready. I raise The Tomato to my lips. I open my mouth, the flesh firm between my teeth. I take a bite.

WOW. Bite, after bite, after bite (damn this thing is big!) Another lobe surgically separated from the body of the beast. The Tomato is the most amazing tomato I have yet tasted. A gastronimic marvel. A gift from the Gods. A veritable, well, dinner.

That's all. I shoulda' taken a pic lest you think me deceptive.

--Shella