Author: Melanie

If thou tastest a crust of bread, thou tastest all the stars and all the heavens.
— Robert Browning

Today, I pulled all of these ripe tomatoes from our tomato plants:

(There’s a sixth one hiding under there somewhere.)  What to do with my bounty?  David, despite being the primary caretaker of the tomatoes, does not like them (except in ketchup and tomato sauce), so the tomato-eating duties fall to me.  What a shame.

I decided to make what is probably my all-time favorite food, one that takes me back to my time in Spain in high school and college, and one that could almost not be any easier: pa amb tomàquet (in Catalan) or pan con tomate (in Spanish) or tomato bread (in English – duh).

Here’s all you need: a baguette or peasant bread, some tomatoes, olive oil, salt and pepper.  That’s it.

Here’s how you do it:

Slice the baguette in half lengthwise (or slice the peasant bread in thick slices). (P.S. This baguette was still warm from Panera’s oven when I cut into it this afternoon.  Don’t be jealous.)

Slice a tomato in half (not lengthwise – you want the top to be one half and the bottom to be the other half) like this:

Then take one half of the tomato and rub it – firmly – over one side of the cut baguette.  Repeat with other tomato half and other baguette half.  Don’t be afraid to really squeeze the tomato – you want all of its insides on your bread.  Depending on how juicy your tomatoes are, you may need more than one for this step.

Then, if you want (and I did, since this tomato was so fresh), slice up the mutilated tomato and eat it!

Next, drizzle some olive oil over each side of the bread – for this size slices, I used about a teaspoon per slice.

Finally, sprinkle some salt (and pepper if you like – fresh ground is best, but powdered will do) on each slice.

If you try this, an optional step is to toast the bread (or put it under the broiler for a few minutes until it’s crusty) and then rub raw garlic over it before the tomato step.  I like it that way as well, but I’m really more of a purist when it comes to this.  Also, be careful – a little bit of raw garlic on the toasted bread goes a loooong way.

Then eat.  I will not be responsible for any swooning, drooling, fainting, etc, that may occur upon your first taste of this little bit of heaven.  I added some thick slices of Swiss cheese on the side (not really what we would have in Spain, but still a great addition), and a little bit of Sangria because, why not?

If you were to ask me if I’d ever had the bad luck to miss my daily cocktail, I’d have to say that I doubt it; where certain things are concerned, I plan ahead.
— Luis Buñuel

What’s your favorite?  Right now I’m drinking a Greyhound, which is just vodka and grapefruit juice, since that’s what I have in the house; when I’m at a wedding or somewhere else with an open bar, I usually opt for a screwdriver.  But my two favorite mixed drinks are mojitos and Malibu Bay Breezes.   Yum.

Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
— Langston Hughes

1. Big, fat raindrops

2. Watching lightning flash in the distance

3. Cracks of thunder that rattle your bones, but don’t scare you because you’re safe and warm at home

(Can you tell it’s storming here?)

What’s making you happy today?

The values of the world we inhabit and the people we surround ourselves with have a profound effect on who we are.
— from Outliers, by Malcolm Gladwell

I’m cheating a little again, because it’s 9:30, and I’m in the middle of making dinner, and I’m still exhausted from yesterday.

I’m making chicken and dumplings for the first time ever, which is taking longer than I expected, and I’m nervous David won’t like it.  He’s a good sport and tries anything I make, but I can always tell when he doesn’t like something (and he always answers truthfully if I ask him).  And although I know it’s not personal, it makes me feel bad when he doesn’t like it, because I only want to take care of him, and food is one way I do that.  I’m working on this – I know he won’t starve if he doesn’t eat what I make, and we don’t always have to like the same things, and it’s not a reflection on my skills as a cook.  I’m a work in progress.

Anyway, back to the cheating.  Please enjoy the following pictures of me and some of my favorite people:

Me and Karen last summer – she’s thinner now and I’m heavier!

Me and Aimee somewhere in the neighborhood of 9 years ago at a Sister Hazel show.  This is still one of my favorite pictures of us.

Me and Nate in Atlantic City, before our dad’s band played at House of Blues (he’s wearing orange because it’s my dad’s favorite color).

This was the Princess’s third birthday.  Now that I look at it again, they both looking like they might be squirming to get away from me, but I promise, they are actually laughing!

Me and David in September at my friend’s wedding on Long Island (I was a bridesmaid).

I saved this in the middle while we ate dinner – success!  David liked it quite a bit, and though I thought the seasoning needs some work, it’s definitely a keeper (but probably more for fall and winter)!

The only difference between baseball and softball is that when you get hit by a softball, it leaves a bigger mark.
— Unknown

I don’t even know if I have the energy to tell you today’s story the way I want to.  It’s 9pm, and I just got home, and I walked a hundred miles today, and I’m so, so tired, and I haven’t eaten dinner yet (I’m waiting for David, who is still at work – this is the third night in a row he’s been this late).

Anyway, I think I told you I play on a rec league softball team.  If I didn’t, well, I do.  Mostly it’s people from work, but also some other people who are friends with the team captain (who works where I do).  We are terrible.  There’s no way around it.  We’ve been playing since early May, every week (give or take several rainouts), and we still haven’t won a game.  Today we lost 22-1, and even that was a mercy-rule shortened game.

The thing is, there’s no reason we should be so bad.  On paper, our team looks good – we have several excellent players and even most of our girls are decent to good (including me).  The problem seems to be, though, that the majority of the boys want to do EVerything even when there’s a perfectly capable girl “in the way.”  This often results in miscommunication, miscues, missed cut-offs, etc.  The boys also seem to get overly excited when the ball comes to them and their inner Major Leaguer comes out and they try to do stuff like field the ball on the run rather than make sure they have it in their glove before trying to throw it.

We look like the god damned Bad News Bears out there, and while it was funny for a while, now I’m just pissed.  It’s not really fun anymore.  I nearly walked off the field tonight (where I was playing – uselessly – in right field, which I hate, because it’s the “girl’s” spot and I’m better than that; usually I play second base) because people just do not pay attention or realize that we could be a lot better if people would just take their time and make smarter, more controlled plays.

Beyond the sucktasticness of the team, the other problem is, we always seem to play at fields that are miles from anywhere.  Tonight I walked 45 minutes from my office to get to the field.  Sure, I could have taken the Metro to a stop that would have put me a 30-minute walk away, but since that stop is on a different line from my work stop, I’d have had to change trains and probably waste the fifteen minutes waiting for the other line.  Truthfully, I don’t mind the walk there usually, because I look at it as an opportunity to get exercise and warm up for the game, but after the game when I’m tired and it’s late and I’ve got to walk back to the Metro a hundred miles, it’s not so appealing.

I’m not a quitter, though, and I believe that, as an adult, if you make a committment to something, you see it through to the end.  Besides, there are only about 5 games left.  And I love softball, but that’s a really generous description of what our team plays each week, so I don’t know if that’s enough to tip the scales, because, on the other hand, I have sort of come to dread Tuesdays, and that’s not good for anyone.  So, I need to really think about this and decide what I’m going to do.