A delicious memory …

I was six or seven years old and we were up north for the summer. It was a beautiful, warm, sunny day and I seemed to be alone with my grandmother, who is pictured here, at my parents’ wedding.

She was hanging freshly-washed sheets and clothes on the line and I was “helping” her. When we were done she asked if I was hungry, which I was. Must have been lunch time.

After we brought the empty laundry basket and the bucket of unused clothes pins back into the house, she grabbed a big bowl and we went out into the garden again. She explained how to tell if the tomatoes were ripe and then Continue reading

You say tomato, I say San Marzano

I enjoy a good meal although I’m not sure I’d call myself a foodie.  Maybe I am, who knows.  What I do know is, I don’t San Marzano Tomatoesoften wax poetic about what I’ve eaten in restaurants, or cooked, in this blog. Having said that I do remember going into raptures about a peach back in 2012.

Recently, though, I had an otherworldly experience involving a tomato, a San Marzano tomato, (looks sort of like a Roma, but it’s longer, thinner and one end is Continue reading

Day 12. Fall’s Coming

Much as I hate to acknowledge that summer’s coming to a close, I know it is; and it has nothing to do with the fact that the days are starting to get shorter.  It has nothing to do with all the back-to-school advertising.  Or the fact that Toronto’s CNE (Canadian National Exhibition) opened yesterday.

It’s because yesterday, my cleaning lady brought me a paper bag filled with beautiful, sun-ripened tomatoes from her garden.  She does it every year at this time.  It is an end of summer ritual.  And end of summer, means beginning of fall.  I love the tomatoes.  I love the fall.  It’s winter I’m not crazy about, but I’m getting way ahead of myself here.  So let’s get back to the food most people call a vegetable but is, in fact, a fruit:  The tomato.

I have a love/hate relationship with tomatoes.  I don’t like most of the tomatoes available in grocery stores — even high end ‘epicure’ shops.  They look beautiful.  It’s nice to see all the different varieties, colours, shapes and sizes.  But you get them home and they’re tasteless.

So disappointing, because when a tomato’s at its peak there’s nothing more delicious.  Which is why I love when my cleaning lady brings me samples from her Continue reading