heirloom

I clearly remember the first time I had an heirloom tomato. But first, it should be noted that I have never been much of a tomato guy at all, they were always either too acidic for me (I used to have raging acid reflux) or the squishy, mealy texture was way too unappetizing. If I eat them they have to be mild, firm.

So, one recent summer when I was visiting my parents in Denver, my mom had one of her typically huge and decadent fresh lunch spreads out: sandwich meats, cheeses, veggies including the legendary heirloom tomato. I put some of the green shapes (they were hard to slice) on my turkey sandwich with a little white pepper and salt. It was, and still is, simply divine. I was sold. However, when I went to look for them at the store I balked at the outrageous prices and have never actually been able to truly justify buying them. Often, too, they seem to be out-of-season and sorry looking, like they are covered with scabs.

Alas, today at Central Market, amongst the yoga-panted cougars (this topic has been exhausted on a Facebook post for today), I stood at the heirloom tomato box for several minutes looking over each one (I even did Leah's famous smell-test, although no one looks as beautiful as her in such a moment). Reds, greens, yellows, redgreenyellows. Not one was perfect until this one--despite its small nick it is still perfect looking as it does like a miniature pumpkin. It weighed near a pound itself and at $4.99 a pound, I thus present to you, my five dollar tomato. Not sure what to use it with yet but I will wait until Leah is around so we can enjoy it together as she is quite to tomato apologist.

In other non-tomato related news, I have begun the serious investigation into PhD programs and it appears that University of Texas at Arlington, despite my previous sour experience, will be the destination. The application process alone is daunting and will test the mettle, to be sure. And then this is where I bring it back home and say something about the fruit of my labors.