I was in the 7th grade and cycled over to my best friend's house. His name was Carmen and he was Italian. His father, a very strong and broad man called us over for a snack. He set up a makeshift table with two crates for chairs. On the table he had a bottle of homemade wine, imported olive oil, a very rustic loaf of bread, salt, a plate and knife. "What kind of snack is this?!" I thought silently as I watched him walk over to his garden. The sun bathed the scene and shone over tall tomato vines bearing the most beautiful red fruit. With the ease of one hand he plucked three tomatoes, washed them off with a hose and brought them to our table. I watched in awe and wonder as he roughly cut them, poured silky olive oil on them and lovingly sprinkled some salt. He ripped three pieces of bread from the one loaf, only looking up to say "mangia". We dipped bread in an oil enhanced by the sweet juices from summer ripe tomatoes, barely saying anything to each other. We were silently appreciating the simple joys brought to us by a man and his garden.
I vowed then that I would one day have my very own garden and make simplistic delicacies. I would literally reap what I sowed. And 15 years later I finally have one of my own and I absolutely love it! Every morning I run out and see what new developments took place. My string beans have sprung, some of the lettuces are mature, the zucchinis have blossoms and little baby buds and my tomato vines have shot up to the height of my thigh!
I cannot wait to post future developments and make meals sourced from my little garden:)