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I went out this morning and in our jungle, I saw our first actual red Jersey tomato of the season. It’s about time!

We have harvested zucchini and cucumbers and now we have the best for last.I have missed my tomatoes on my grilled cheese, or even just a tomato sandwich on Italian bread with a little mayo.

All of the heat? Worth it to get these tomatoes ready!

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Tomatoes, tomatoes…

Some cross my path in the office like the ones left in the big basket from the ship’s captain.Then one of my co-workers harvested her cherry tomatoes and brought a big supermarket bag full of tomatoes( albeit cherry ones) in the workroom. We keep watering ours, and the plums, Jerseys, and little cherries are coming in full force.

It’s bittersweet for me, as my Dad loved his tomatoes, and much to my Mom’s chagrin, used to stop at roadside stands to pick some up to take back home. He would cut up a big Jersey tomatoes and slice and cube it and eat it along with scrambled eggs for breakfast.Of course there would be a big slice or two of in his sandwich at lunchtime. He’d have a salad with a ton of tomatoes with his dinner.

Mom was like me: she was a purist.

Although I love a good slice of tomatoes on a tuna salad or a bacon cheeseburger, but Mom and I had our favorite.Fresh white bread with a little mayo and two big slices of tomatoes.

Think that’s on Thursday’s menu for lunch when I am home.

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Jersey Tomatoes

In work today, there was a big red basket by the entrance to our building.

Someone had left a big basket of Jersey tomatoes by the door!

We were intrigued,as no one could figure out where they had come from or who left them It was almost like a whodunit.

After lunchtime, we found out that one of the ferry captains has a large plot of ground by his home and he farms it.
They had so many tomatoes that 50 of us has more than enough to take home thanks to his generosity.

Once again, it was nice to come across someone who “pays it forward.”

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You say to-MAH-toe

All my life my summers have involved tomatoes.

When I was little, and we would go down the shore, Dad would always stop at farm stands for New Jersey tomatoes.My mother would roll her eyes after a while, but she kept quiet because she loved them as much as he did.

The backyard of the house where we lived had a plot to plant in and of course, tomatoes were involved. My Dad was even one of those people who when they came upon a type of tomato that they like, Dad would save the seeds on a paper towel and when they dried up, he would put them in a brown envelope, mark the type of tomato on the front, and you could bet they’d be planted nest season.

Dad is no longer here, and he would have appreciated the fact that I am over the bridge and close to water.More importantly, I have successfully planted my first, bona fide, home-grown Jersey tomato.It gave up its’ life for us for dinner tonite and it was tasty.

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Dad? This one’s for you.