Spring was 6 days away, and there was a blizzard warning. Why does winter wait until the last possible moment to make an appearance? I was angry at the nor’easter now dusting the crocuses and daffodils in snow and ice, but it also gave me an excuse to hunker down in the apartment and make a pan of baked oatmeal, a cozy yet long-forgotten breakfast dish.
Somehow in the midst of all the late summer activity I have failed to talk about tomatoes. I have been eating them. And cooking them. In fact, let me back up and say that the main reason I haven’t talked about tomatoes here is because I have been busy hunting them down, like defenseless prey.