tomatoes are creepy.
allow me to lay down on your sofa + tell you the traumatizing tale of tomatoes + kelly maurine flynn.
growing up, my grandma had a cherry tomato garden. in the tomato-growing world, her garden was top notch. she laid beautiful stone pavers leading tomato-seekers back to her garden. she had handmade wooden signs all along the garden boasting the words “fresh tomatoes here!” + wooden cut-outs of jolly characterized tomatoes grinning from ear-to-ear. looking around the garden was always a treat.
once i grew old enough, grandma moved me from “looking” duty to “picking” duty.
this day, my friend, is when it all started.
i would walk down the stone pavers, picking-basket in hand, and just like that, tomatoes for tonight’s dinner salad were my sole responsibility. i would reach my tiny hands along the stalk of the plants + pluck the tomatoes right off. seems fun!? OH NO. sometimes they were squishy! some were red, but some were an angry red! sometimes a little ant would crawl up my finger to say ‘sucka!’ + sometimes the fragile ones would just burst right open!! it. was. gross.
after what i’m sure felt like hours in the garden on that first day of picking, i ran back to kitchen to show my grandma the bounty that, in my eyes, i had risked my life for.
in my world, drama was always necessary, so while covered in tomato guts, i cried to her about my horrible experience. now, grandma flynn is a sassy lady, she raised 7 crazy irish boys, so you can imagine that my tiny yelp for attention was nothing short of entertaining for her. as i stood before her + wiped the tears from my cheeks, she leant down + noticed – OH MY! i had hives all over my hands + face!
turns out summer heat, the acidity of tomatoes + my parchment irish skin just didn’t get along. needless to say, after the oatmeal bath, my picking days were over.
tomatoes: 1
kelly: 0
22 years later, not much has changed for me. tomatoes are still on the no fly list on my dinner plate. but i can handle slicing + dicing them in comfort of my no-sun-shining home. and one of the times you’ll see me braving the tomato-touching experience, is on taco night. i still don’t eat them (um. eww.) but since those i cook for love them so dearly, i will whip up this classic pico de gallo, as a true labor of love + tribute to the taco gods.
- 3 roma tomatoes, diced
- 2 jalapeños, seeded + finely minced
- ½ red onion, finely minced
- 1 lime, zested + juiced
- 1 tbsp cilantro, chopped
- 1 tsp kosher salt
- finely dice your red onion. place into an ice bath for 15 minutes, to remove the bite from the onion.
- prepare and combine the rest of the ingredients.
- drain the red onion and add to the tomato mixture.
- cover and refrigerate until ready to serve. (for best results let sit to combine for at least an hour)
to spice things up a bit, leave the seeds + ribs in the jalapeño!
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