Saturday, August 25, 2012

Country Toh-may-toh - Toh - mah - toh

However you want to say it, homegrown is best.  Actually, I almost never buy tomatoes in the grocery store anymore. I would rather do without than eat the hot-house, plastic-looking, chemical tainted orbs that have next to no taste.  Once in a while, I do pick up an organic variety, but not often. 
     My niece in Albuquerque ruined me for anything less than the best; aka home grown tomatoes.  She and her husband have a garden in the North Valley and that's where I got my home-grown-tomato taste buds.
     My wee garden is doing okay. I'm still waiting on the squash, the New Mexico Chili is coming along and I have quite a few sweet banana peppers. At the suggestion of a dear friend, I did go out and play honey-bee; helped out the pollination of the flowers with a little brush.  I'm hoping . . .
     Although I haven't had a huge crop, the small tomatoes I have had have been delicious.  They are a nice dark red inside and so sweet.  I just finished a BLT (minus the L).  Whole wheat toast - bacon - mayo and a home grown tomato. 
     The variety that has worked best for me this year is a Better Boy; I would love to get my hands on some heirlooms - maybe next year.
     My dad often cooked for us on the weekends. He and my mom both worked during the week and they shared the chores.  He was a 'man before his time' .. I never heard about women's work and mans work in our home. If the pipes froze in the winter, and Daddy was at work, Mother went out to heated up the pipes.  If the dishes needed washing, Daddy knew what soap and water were for. 
     One of my dad's inventions was Bacon and Cottage Cheese on Toast; don't growl until you've tried it!!  It's almost as good as a BLT!
     Another of my favorite 'snacks' in the summer is a small bowl of Ice Cold Cottage Cheese with diced tomato on top.  Earlier in the week, I enjoy some homemade Chicken Salad with tomatoes. 
     I'm going to miss my fresh-from-the-garden tomatoes when winter sets in, but in the meantime . . .

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