You Say Tomato, I Say “Yes, Please!”

I just want to give a shout-out to my mom and wish her a Happy Mother’s Day. Mom, thanks to your years of hard work, sacrifice, love, support and encouragement, your daughter ended up wintering (again) in Antarctica, where the highlight of her week, possibly her month, was acquiring a Personal Tomato.

My personal Personal Tomato, from our greenhouse

We have 153 people spending winter here, and today our greenhouse guru provided 153 cherry tomatoes for dinner. The tomatoes had a sign-off sheet that each person had to initial upon selection of a Personal Tomato, and their own bodyguard, lest the incurably piggish among us (there are very few but… there are a few) take more than the single Personal Tomato allotted per person.

Dwayne (with tongs) and the Tomato Sheriff. I am not making this up.

I skipped a traditional red tomato in favor of a beautiful deep purple and crimson heirloom “Black Cherry.” It now occupies a place of honor on its own repurposed coffee mug lid in my refrigerator, next to my Fruithoarde, near my ice pack (for the occasional pain of life) and bottle of Ned (also for the occasional pain of life). I haven’t decided how and when I will eat it, or the appropriate theme music for the event, but for now I’m content just to look at it.

And no, I usually do not keep tomatoes in the refrigerator, but it’s the safest place for the little guy at the moment. Being an heirloom and a greenhouse plant, it is particularly fragile.

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