Posted by Loulou on Mar 23, 2016 | 10 comments

Well, here they come, the little devils that will grace our summer and fall and winter soups and pastas and stews and bruschette and above all will be bitten into raw, just picked with a little salt on the side to provide us with a taste of tomato heaven.

I hope.

Mama has just replanted the seedling to give them more force, as the French call strength, and we shall see what we shall see. Being away from them for three weeks won’t make mama any less worried, even though there is a nice man named Frederique who will preside over the tomato nursery!

If we can find Frederique.

But I think, having assessed the situation, that those tomatoes are going to grow whether we like it or not. They just do that. And we already have fava beans popping out everywhere so maybe they can be the cheering squad and get those little suckers to start doing their job.

Which is to become lovely slices on a plate with mozzarella and basil (better give that a kick, too, because it’s hanging back a bit from where it ought to be) or a fragrant silky soup with a splash of olive oil in the bowl or a creamy sauce for mama’s pizze or, if something goes very, very wrong, an effective missile to throw at Donald when he gets out of hand, haha.

Well, we’re not throwing THESE!

Just kidding, folks. I’ll watch over those little babies and make sure they grow up with ethics.

And character…