Timmy Toms
All I want to eat are my home grown toms, sprinkled with a little salt on buttery bread. Or perhaps I'll savour these little plump gems with a lump of cheddar or cooked gently and covered in olive oil and oregano from the herb patch. They've done well the old toms; a few weeks ago I thought we were destined for fried green tomatoes, whistle stop café styley. Maybe I'd have to make my own pickle, a worrying thought for my loved ones as I'm really not the best chef. Lately I've been feeling a bit sick and I need my garden aid more than ever. The toms are a god send and I actually find I'm craving them. They are all I want. It's a joyful act bringing them inside too. Me and one of my cats, usually Ziggy oversee tomato production. First we sniff them and give them a gentle squeeze and then we declare them ready or not to pick. We've done very well this year, from early cherry toms in the hanging baskets - thanks Homebase, to the juicy heirloom va...