three different fruits, each given the same name

To the untrained eye, someone might mistake all three of these the same. But they are not. I am convinced of this. A tomato really should have three different names.

First, there is the tomato that comes from the store. We might call these well-it's-better-than-nothing tomatoes. They do the trick in the middle of the winter. They can pass as something to be put on your salads and sandwiches. But once you've had the other two kinds of tomatoes, you know these just aren't actual tomatoes.

Second, there is the tomato that someone has grown for you. For our purposes here, we'll call these thanks-for-sharing-your-bounty-tomatoes. I grew up on these tomatoes from my mom's garden, our next door neighbor's garden and lots of relatives. These tomatoes are in a class far above the first kind of tomato mentioned. They have flavor. They have character to their shape, color and size. They taste like summer and they often lead to multiple nights of BLT's which is basically my personal heaven.

But the third kind of tomato changes EVERYTHING. It's the tomato that you, yourself, grew. These tomatoes might be best called, Lord-you-are-so-good-to-us tomatoes. Rory and I were gifted with a tomato plant from some super camp friends, Bud and Betty, and I cannot explain the pomp and circumstance surrounding the first tomato we harvested. Rory brought it into the apartment, washed it and shared it like a sacrament. It wasn't even all that big. But it was the best tomato we have ever eaten. And it changed my world of produce forever, birthing an excitement for gardening that is brand new to me. Rory has always had the green thumb in our marriage, but this tomato has changed everything.

(special thanks to my niece, Mara, who took this picture while playing with my camera out on our patio. It's a nice shot, Mara, and happens to be the very tomato Rory harvested.)