I savor your writing as one might the delicious summer tomatoes you so perfectly describe.
Only you can make an essay about a subject as pedestrian as a sandwich sing with history, culture and nostalgia.
You make me want to read and write more, and take me out of my anxious and worried mind for however long it takes me to race through your latest piece.
Thank you, and please, keep whatever pieces you might grace us with, coming.
Oh, how nostalgic I feel! I grew up near Watsonville, California, and it wasn’t until living elsewhere that I realized what an embarrassment of riches in the form of produce we had. As an adult living in Idaho, only buying tomatoes from the super, I forgot that I loved them. What a funny thing.
My grandmother loves a BLT more than most foods, I am convinced. My whole life is peppered with memories of her lovingly preparing her favorite sandwich—plenty of bacon (I miss you Corolitas), tomatoes and lettuce from the farm stand down the road, best foods (non-negotiable), and sourdough (hey, it is the Bay Area!). She would always say with such love and revelation—like she had never said it before, “Oh, I just love a BLT!” I always felt so loved that she wanted to share it with me.
I savor your writing as one might the delicious summer tomatoes you so perfectly describe.
Only you can make an essay about a subject as pedestrian as a sandwich sing with history, culture and nostalgia.
You make me want to read and write more, and take me out of my anxious and worried mind for however long it takes me to race through your latest piece.
Thank you, and please, keep whatever pieces you might grace us with, coming.
Oh, how nostalgic I feel! I grew up near Watsonville, California, and it wasn’t until living elsewhere that I realized what an embarrassment of riches in the form of produce we had. As an adult living in Idaho, only buying tomatoes from the super, I forgot that I loved them. What a funny thing.
My grandmother loves a BLT more than most foods, I am convinced. My whole life is peppered with memories of her lovingly preparing her favorite sandwich—plenty of bacon (I miss you Corolitas), tomatoes and lettuce from the farm stand down the road, best foods (non-negotiable), and sourdough (hey, it is the Bay Area!). She would always say with such love and revelation—like she had never said it before, “Oh, I just love a BLT!” I always felt so loved that she wanted to share it with me.