Youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu betcha!

Except there was neither B nor L involved.  Just T.  Oh, the T.  LOOOOVE the T!

It was tomato on potato bread, or to-mah-to on po-tah-to, whichever you prefer.  With real mayo and sea salt.  And the bread was toasted, naturally.

And all I really wanted to tell you was that you should try growing your own tomatoes.  You should, really.  Try.  And pick them just before you think they look red-red and bring them inside to become better acquainted for a day, maybe two.  And don’t refrigerate – let them get sweeter and juicier and riper.  You can’t hurry love.

Then, you’ll just know.  You’ll know.

And all those transparent, disgusting, greenish-slices of rubbery-engineered-spheres those {fake-food purveyors} have slapped on your part-time-lover-fast-food burgers will fade from view.

Me and T :: Our love is here to stay.

DINNER :: Carbonara Rigati with snow peas and plum tomatoes (bacon, mmmm); garlic-green-beans; cucumber and red onion-toss; bruschetta (fresh tomatoes from my garden) on extra-virgin-olive-oil-drizzled and toasted baguette and panko-crusted zuchinni, fried in Roasted Garlic Grapeseed Oil