TOMATO!
What's in a tomato....right??
Nothing really...
It's Sunday and I am in a Tomato-mood, that all...whatever that is...
No, but honestly, I am actually thrilled...I bought a tomato plant - on the prodding insistence of a good friend and ensuing discussions on the merits of SSS: simplicity, solitude and self reliance. A valuable lesson, a charming book, a good read, a wonderful lifestyle and one I do find absolutely brilliant no matter its edge to transcendental philosophy. But nevertheless, I admit I was sceptical. I admit I was a bit wary of my tomato-plant in the Thoreau-Walden lifestyle in our world so hampered by modernity, I admit I didn't really think I would be able to keep it alive given my total lack of green fingers...
But, it certainly has taught me a lesson in tenacity.
I watched it grow from a beautiful tiny yellow flower that shrivelled up into dry papery skin and the first sight of a tiny green tomato no bigger than a child's marble! Oh, what joy, it was alive! And a twin right next to it. I filled my camera with photos of my green miracle. It was the first tomato I had ever grown. In a flower pot, in our glassed-in Sun Lounge and with plenty of water and a delightful dose of TLC. I am a long way off from Thoreau's philosophy of self reliance on a pair of tomatoes but the joy was albeit profound.
I always thought that tomatoes were Indian or Italian greenies... what with all our tomato chutneys (with paanch phoron in Bengal...delicious!) and Spaghetti Bolognese a la Italia... and was surprised to learn that it is actually a Mexican fruit/vegetable. It is called xitomatl and means...now listen to this... "plump thing with a navel". Hmmm! I begin to ponder over my penchant for this red sweet tasty plump vegetable... Could its magic lie in its name? Is it my inherent sense of identification with it haha? Well...no matter. It's absolutely wonderful...
I remember (in India) tomatoes being sold for as low as 25 paisa/kg when I was a kid and we lived on delicious Mum-made juice and chutneys. I had all the tomatoes I could eat! I delighted in Ira/ Gershwin's song "You like tomeiito, I like tomaaahto..." and so on.
And yes, I do say to-maah-to.
But this summer we had visitors from Vancouver, John and his grandma. John is 7. And very Canadian indeed. He was as delighted as I was at our dual pronunciation! He said to-meeiii-to! On 18th Aug we had our own beautiful La Tomatina Day. In the sunlit Sun Lounge in the late evening while lazy dragonflies chased each other in the setting sun and dinner puttered on the stove ....
John was Guest of Honour. He got to pluck the first ripe "plump thing with a navel" from my plant. I cut it into five equal parts. And garnished it with a dash of salt n pepper. We had cold yummy strawberry wine in tiny wine glasses to go with it and had an inaugural ceremony of it. John phoned his Dad later in Vancouver and the first thing he said: Dad! I Had Strawberry Wine Today!" I guessed "Dad" was not too pleased at this revelation and for fear of not having John visit us again I said in a stage whisper: John! Say it was alcohol free!!! (Oh god, what is Dad thinking of us??)
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What I absolutely abhor is the REAL La Tomatina festival somewhere in Spain that I don't remember (and don't care to) where they literally have a battle of throwing simply a hundred tons of to-maaah-toes at each other. It makes no sense to me .... throwing food...? Whatever for?... Have they never heard of the Indian "Holi" festival instead?
Ok, yeah, I get it...Live and Let Live...Right??
But can you honestly enjoy these pictures? 
(These three pix are from the Internet)
Signing off for now.
CS
