tomato as pop art

I grew up with tomatoes in the backyard. Starting in late July the red fruits would pop from the bright green vines my father had tended so religiously in his small “L” shaped garden that took up about a fourth of the yard. There have been many a crop rotation in that tilled soil from corn to squash to okra to green onions and lettuce, but the tomatoes have always been my favorite. The freshness of a tomato so fresh that the heat of its growing could still be felt in your hand as you sliced the ripeness for juicy sandwhich on wheat bread with mayo, salt, and pepper. We ate them over the kitchen sink. I’m sure my father still does this. And so, every late July and especially in August, I hunger for these tomatoes that cannot be replicated in any grocery store and barely in farmers’ markets. Today my father delivered to me a portion of the 2006 summer crop and some of the tomatoes spoke their own little red language to me so loudly that I had to take pictures of them and thus: Tomato As Pop Art

A tomato nose things we don't.

"It's not a TwoMa!"

Roma tomatoes who have jalopeno pepper envy.

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