Tom likes Red

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My dinner (we have dinner between noon and one o'clock, and supper on 7H porch usually just after six) yesterday was two tomato sandwiches, each a whole, sliced tomato. Last evening my supper was a sliced whole tomato sandwich on toast smeared with a mixture of mayonnaise and grated extra sharp cheddar cheese. Breakfast this morning will be a tomato sandwich.

 

Bright red, exquisite, succulently delicious these tomatoes are. On the word that a friend posted on FB over the weekend, yesterday we drove up to Jackson Farm near Grand Ridge to pick tomatoes. They are scrumptious, incomparable, highlighting that I've not had a real tomato in way too many years to count.

 

Along with being out here in the cool, gentle salty sea breeze on 7H porch watching a red boat glide by for a day's work at sea, and the perfect red-vine-ripened tomato sandwich, there's nothing else, more, better to do in life: done died and gone to heaven. These tomatoes remind me why my favorite color is red.

Instead of the cheddar, this morning I may shake a bit of grated parmesan cheese on the mayonnaise. Years ago, someone, well she was a nutritionist, said in a lecture to patients, of which I was one, that shaking parmesan on food could be a heart-healthy substitute for salt. 

What have I read this morning? A selection on Delanceyplace, a book extract about the ease and dangers of reading a papyrus scroll. 

It's a beautiful day, and perfect. July 21, 75°F and sunny, wind E 4 mph. Hoping you are the same.

T+