I’ve always wanted to grow a garden but with a grisly-plant-track-record I had little hope despite the enthusiasm with which I began my container garden this spring. The meager hope I did have plummeted once I learned I planted incorrectly and I gave up all together. Until a few weeks later, when small white flowers emerged. And then, upon our return to Atlanta yesterday, I was gobsmacked to discover not one, not two but nearly ten jalapenos half of them fully ripe, and a host of sweet peppers, and cayenne on the brink of maturity right in our backyard. And the tomatoes. The ones we were most excited about. The ones we didn’t plant in the ground but stuck in a pot next to our back door so we wouldn’t forget to care for it and to reduce its chances of being food for animals other than us– these coveted and cared for plants had finally sprouted three glorious tomatoes.
I’m going to make salsa. I said examining them. No! Chicken Kardhai. Wait, maybe garnish for some Chicken Pulao. The possibilities were endless, until I heard:
And I looked down at my little guy grinning with the thrill and pride of a kitten presenting a mouse to its owner as he handed me this:
We planned for mice and squirrels but eager little boys? Not on our radar. It was one of those moments, where you want to go knee-jerk and wail nooooo at the horror, the horror, but where you look into the wide-eyed grin of the little guy giving you this ‘gift’ and find it in you to swallow the gasp and calmly explain that while green traffic lights means go, green tomatoes means, give it a few weeks. Hopefully he understands. And while hopefully this missing tomato will be replaced by tomatoes tenfold, just incase, I shall be hunting for recipes for very tiny portions of fried green tomato.