Monday, September 8, 2008

Feel my pain!


Where is Bill Clinton when you really need him?

Imagine my ordeal: every day forced to eat a plate (usually two plates) of vine-ripened garden tomatoes. Sweet and juicy, at the very peak of their readiness. O, woe! How long must I endure this?

(These small ones have been copiously drizzled with balsamic vinegar, sprinkled with grated parmesan cheese, and then attacked with cracked pepper. Just awful.)

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

Those look scrumptious. Have a bite for me? Thanks.

Carteach said...

You wouldn't... just for a moment... consider sliding those under a broiler long enough to melt and toast the cheese, would you?

Not that *I* would ever do anything so radical, especially with a bit of fresh basil on it.

Rio Arriba said...

Well, I would HOPE you wouldn't! Not a bad idea, though. Might cut down on the awfulness of the whole bizness. I'll let you know if I am able to choke down such a t'ing.

Rio Arriba said...

OK, I gave that a try. Parmesan doesn't melt very well and I didn't have some nice mozarella. (The nearest mozarella is a 250 mile r/t.) But the parmesan was OK whether melted or not. The broiling sweetens the tomatoes and makes the malty-sweet taste of the balsamic richer and more satisfying. Excellent tip! You have somewhat ameliorated my unbearable ordeal!

Roxie said...

So what did you do wrong to merit such terrible punishment. LOL!

Anonymous said...

Those look first rate. I dote on tomatoes.

Tmagnum62 said...

oh, the horror! Homegrown tomatoes..