It’s been a blessed year at the Bar None. Between Friday nights at Gifford Park, Saturday mornings in Fremont, our boutique customers, Pitch Coal Fired Pizzeria, Dixie Quicks, and my burgeoning cellar, I’ve pulled just over 3000 tomatoes of 14 different varieties. Say what?
In the last two weeks alone I have canned 72 quarts of either arrabiata sauce, enchilada sauce, two varieties of juice, or just plain beautiful tomatoes. And dehydrated several hundred “Humberto” romas, sanguine jewels that will liven up cold winter days
Started from seed. Tenderly cared for with constant good housekeeping. Rouging out the worst of the lot as chicken feed. Selecting only the AAA+++ for the customers, the rest receiving treatment that I saw my mom use back in the 60’s.
Me? I know tomatoes! And runners. If my 30+ years of working with runners carried a running total, maybe runners and tomatoes would be nearing the same tab.
I don’t know ALL tomatoes. I don’t know ALL runners. But man I know a slew of both. Enough to host this daily column and speak with authority.
That as much as anything shapes my movements these days. Using a critical eye developed over years. Only sending out the very best.
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