Ode To The Ontario Field Tomato
By ML Thompson
Yes, folks. It’s here again. The time when the world stops spinning and a little piece of heaven is brought down to earth.
It hits you the moment you walk into the grocery store and see those glorious baskets overflowing with perfectly ripened field tomatoes and your heart soars. You pick out your basket with care. Mouth watering. Hands trembling. Heart pounding.
All thoughts of steak and lobster are pushed from your head as you mentally inventory what you will need.
Bread - check.
Butter - check.
Mayonnaise - check.
Salt and Pepper - check.
The grocery list is tossed in the garbage can as you carry your precious cargo to the checkout, keeping close watch for those who would try to distract you, giving them a chance to steal your most perfect collection of field tomatoes. You share a secret smile with the others in line, also holding tightly to their baskets and pity those poor fools who either didn’t realize that the field tomatoes are there or have never been introduced to their divine taste, who mistakenly think that a tomato is a tomato is a tomato.
You drive home slowly, taking great care not to hit any pot holes in an effort to ensure no damage comes to your heavenly purchase. You glance at other drivers, wondering if they, too, are on the way to get their tomatoes. Or are you the only one who knows that this day has finally arrived.
Arriving home, you check your watch. Is it too early or can you perhaps steal just one taste of heaven. Unable to resist, you rush for your toaster, hesitating only a moment as you debate the hardest question you will face all day: one piece of bread or two? It’s the first tomato sandwich of the season. Two pieces of bread. Putting the bread in the toaster and pushing down the button, you turn your attention to the fridge to grab what you will need.
Picking up a tomato, you carefully wash it off, taking a moment to raise it to your nose to inhale its delectable aroma. You close your eyes. The sound of the toast popping up is the only thing that can bring you out of your reverie.
After rushing over to the toaster, you still take an extra moment to carefully set that single tomato on the counter, not wanting to risk bruising it. You take the toast out and lay it on the counter. A light coating of butter and mayonnaise. Thickly sliced tomatoes. A sprinkle of salt and pepper.
Not wanting to waste time with a plate and table, you stand at the counter, raising the tomato sandwich to your lips and, closing your eyes to best savor the taste, your teeth sink into the sandwich.
You moan, allowing the taste to overwhelm every sense, knowing this little slice of heaven will only be here for another month and determined to enjoy every second.
(And for those of you wondering... I'm only a little bit insane
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