Sunday, September 2, 2012

First Tomatoes from the Ballard Farmer's Market

I love tomatoes and I love this rhyme.

"I hear my mother calling when the summer wind blows, 'Go out in the garden in your old, old clothes. Pick me some runner beans and sugar snap peas. Find a ripe tomato and bring it to me, please.' A ruby red tomato is hanging on the vine. If my mother didn't want it, the tomato would be mine. It smells of rain and steamy earth and hot June sun. In the whole tomato garden it's the only ripe one. I close my eyes and breathe in its fat, red smell. I wish that I could eat it now and never, never tell. But I save it for my mother without another look. I wash the beans and shell the peas and watch my mother cook. I hear my mother calling when the summer winds blow, 'I've made you First Tomato soup because I love you so.'"

Excerpted from "First Tomato," by Rosemary Wells

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