I know I shouldn't make fun but I can't help it.
Be scared, be very scared, and don't eat those tomatoes. Or the Floridian tomatoes at any rate. After seeing the pictures of the not-even-ripe fruits on the news tonight, I was ready to give up tomatoes for good. Then I remembered the hothouse tomatoes that we get from Fulton, an intersection in the road about five miles from my house.
We have a platter of them in the kitchen and have been eating them all week and will continue to do so until the folks from Winters, CA (just over the hill in the upper Sacramento Valley) appear at the Farmers' Market just after the Fourth of July.
Yep, we eat them raw in salads, sandwiches and Insalata Caprese, and we love them.
Luckily, we live in a place where we can be mainly locavores, primarily with the exception of the wheat alternatives we use for Greyhair's breads. We are incredibly lucky to have a year-round Farmers' Market where we can get local eggs, vegetables, pork, lamb and seafood and often chickens.
Because we try to avoid imported produce, we sometimes get tired of whatever is in season at any given time, but it also makes us so happy when something comes in season.
Recommended reading:
The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan
Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver
Buon Apetito!
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