There are many foods that remind me of a specific person or place or time in my life. Foods that, whenever I eat them, I remember where I was and who I was with the first time I tried it.
Not so with tomatoes.
Tomatoes are one food that has been with me since before I remember. Tomatoes fresh from the garden have just, well, always been. My parents always grew tomatoes in the garden and the only way I remember eating them when I was little was in BLTs or fatly sliced with a bit of salt and pepper. Straight from the garden tomatoes are simple, unpretentious, the perfect balance of sweet acidity, fleshy skin, and juiciness. This is how I've been enjoying them lately.
The past few weeks have felt heavy with weight of trying to soak up one last everything from Boise before I leave her forever tomorrow. So in addition to trying to soak up as much lycopene as possible from my dear garden, I've been saying good byes. This involves quietly and unceremoniously admitting to myself this is the last time I will ever see Boise exactly like this, exactly as I am now. Frankly, it's exhausting. This goodbye has been drawn out long enough.
So, tomorrow, when I hit the road at 6 am, I'll be carrying with me a basket full of tomatoes, a few potted fresh herbs, and lots of memories. And next year, when I'm eating tomatoes from my new garden in Ohio, I'll remember fondly these last few tomato filled days of Boise.
Postscript: I will be off the blogging grid for a couple of weeks. My journey to Ohio is going to have a few pit-stops along the way to visit friends and family. I'll return to Prose and Potatoes in September and show you my new kitchen and tell you about the new foods I'm finding in Ohio.