Oh, Tomato
This past Friday I was invited by friends to their first annual Hot House Hoedown. They live outside of town among vineyards and the setting was perfect. The invited guests were asked to bring a tomato dish to be judged county fair style, blankets for picnicking, and a song to share, open mic style, if you wished. Since I’m a terrible singer, I wrote a silly love poem to the tomato.
It was a great time. What could be better than hanging with old and new friends, eating delicious tomato dishes and laying on a blanket listening to the sweet and sometimes funny melodies of friends with hidden talents? The winning dish, made by the hostess herself, were Fried Green Tomatoes topped with a farm fresh fried egg. So good! And that little lady’s got a beautiful voice, too. Here’s the poem, loaded with commas because that helped me with my overexcited reciting. Please keep in mind I wrote this the day of the party and have done no revisions. It was just for fun.
Oh, Tomato
Oh, tomato, delicious and sweet Ripe, but firm, a joy to eat.
We slice, we dice, we mush you too So many ways to love you, we do.
Tiny, small, medium and big Oh, what pleasure, now where is my wig?
It’s blond and short, now I’m a little off track So back to the tomato, sun-drying on a rack.
Orange, yellow, green…purple and red You are one of a kind, there is nothing instead.
Salsas, sauces, salads…soups and stews Seriously, without you, what would we do?
What would a BLT be without the T? Just a B and an L, how boring that would be.
And what about Ketchup, there would be no fries Or even worse, can you imagine, a world without pizza pies?
Marinara, ragu, tiki masala, oh wow! Life without the tomato? Just kill me now.
What would we do after a night like tonight? If we couldn’t have our Bloody, to make everything alright.
So you see little tomato, we all love you so… We worship, we adore, spread your vine and grow.