Saturday was the great tomato sale. All heirloom organics. Three clams apiece.
After eating fresh tomato puree every morning on my toast in Madrid, I'm mildly obsessed with tomatoes. This is the year. When I got the notice about the sale I got very excited.
Here is the setting for the sale. I'm standing behind a mound full of free compost, and the tables in the distance contain no fewer than 60 varieties of tomatoes.
We availed ourselves of yonder black gold.
The beefsteaks are going downstairs to the garden, but the cherries and our mystery tomatoes are now on the upper deck. We'll see what happens.