When I was a young boy, my brother Dave and I had some things in common, besides our parents. We hated tomatoes. (Before the T.Lovers, come down on me, let me finish.) I like catsup or ketchup, never sure about that word. I love tomato sauces on spaghetti, salsas (as long as it is not too thick), and pizza has tomato sauce too. Love that. But the real red unmixed tomato all by itself. No. I could not eat it.
Here's one reason why. My brother Dave is a great guy, but he was very finicky about food. He would eat his cheeseburgers plain. I picked up on this. He hated tomatoes. I followed him. (Yes, Oprah, my hatred of tomatoes IS my brother's fault ;) So one day, I believe my parents were trying to instill eating all of the food served to us, and that day somehow, we had tomatoes to eat. Well, this would not do. I/we could not just eat tomatoes raw and unmixed with something. So I believe it was Dave's idea, although the years have been many since the day, my memory is a bit foggy. (Dave, do you remember?)
Dave decided to mix cool whip with the tomatoes. Now those of you who love tomatoes can appreciate the clashing of these two substances, but as a young boy this seemed like the ideal remedy to my loathing of the fresh tomato... It wasn't. I almost got sick. I don't think Dave did any better and my life-long distaste for tomatoes lived on...
Until this week. We were walking the souk (market) purchasing our vegetables. Did you know, each one has a different name in Arabic? For example in Arabic, the noble tomato is a matisha. But as the saying goes, "by any other name, a tomato is a tomato". I think that's how the saying goes.
Okay this has gone on long enough. In the souk you will run into vendors who are really kind and especially helpful with the language. We met a fellow named Mohemmed, who was VERY nice and so outgoing, you just wanted to spend time with him. So next to his other veggies was a table full of strangely shaped tomatoes. (See photo above) Lynne made the fateful decision to ask about them. Well, before we had a chance to run, or retreat, he has washed, slice and offered us the fresh tomato, to try. I begged him to cut it in half once more, "nos, nos" I tried my best Arabic. But he insisted I take .5 of his tomato and that I try it right then. It looked a lot like a tomato but it seem to lack the gooey, seedy portion that seemed to always bother me. So I bit in, fearing the worst...It was juicy and as sweet as a peach. It was like candy. I ate the whole thing and we bought more. So now, there is a tomato** I like. (I think they import them from Spain.) Dave, if you ever come here. You are getting one of these and you are going to eat it!
