'TIS THE SEASONALITY.
Onions, sweet potatoes, eggs, kale or chard—that is what our winters look like. For several months, from December until asparagus, we eat pretty much the same meal every day. But then the spring creeps in and we're rewarded with a head of lettuce, some dandelion greens, a strawberry or two. Slowly, these treats turn into a bounty and before we know it, we're waist-deep in summer. And it's glorious. We celebrate with potato salad and cold soup, grilled squash, or, more often than not, a simple ripe tomato in the garden. We celebrate glutinously and by the time the season is over, we're pretty much sick of summer foods, awaiting the first sweet potato or collard green with the same anticipation we awaited that first tomato—the very one we had this week.We don't eat tomatoes out of season—not really. Maybe we'll eat some canned tomato sauce or sun-dried tomatoes, salsa at a Mexican restaurant we happen into, but we do not seek out tomatoes. We wait, patiently, slowly growing tired of what we have to eat, making that first bite—face first, beard covered in juice—all that much more rewarding. By September, we'll be plum sick of tomatoes, and in October we'll be eating them begrudgingly. But by April we'll be missing their sweetness, then July will come and we'll feel very much like we do right now: grateful for seasonality, looking for a napkin to wipe our faces.- Jesse.