Sunday, May 25, 2008
My father grew tomatoes every year--big, fat, beefsteaks that we would eat sometimes right off the vine. They rarely made it into sauce. Perhaps in honor of my father, or something else, my brother and I drove to a parking lot in South Russell yesterday and bought tomato plants. Well, he bought them. I'm broke. But he set me up with three cherry tomato plants I picked partially for their names: brown berry, yellow pear, Thai pink egg.