With the tale of a breakfast so ugly
That if you were too cool for the nerds at your school,
You would point and you'd laugh at it smugly.
And just what could deserve all your jokes? (O, the nerve!
Shallow folks, why must you be so snotty?)
'Twas a hideous beast. Craggy, wrinkled and creased
with a wart half the size of her body.
If you look past her skin - to her beauty within -
She seems much like her heartier brothers.
Ah! But there's no mistaking the taste. They are faking;
She's better by far than the others.
True, she may be a brute, but she dresses up cute.
You can't say she lacks flavor or style.
Yet she's missing a - je ne sais quois - for the kissing.
Our heirloom's been lonely awhile.
Then it's lucky for her, a particular sir
seeks a partner to turn up the heat.
He will be rather droll as he asks her to stroll
on the sunny-side-up of the street.
He's buttery yellow, she's tart and she's mellow.
I'd say that it's certainly not
Surprising that their rather salty affair
quickly turns into something so hot.
If you please, don't poke fun if you chance to see one
so odd-looking that some might deride it.
Do not judge it by looks. The best people and cooks
know what matters the most is inside it.
You can find my full recipe for The Ugliest Breakfast at LiveStrong.com. If you enjoyed this, would you consider sharing the post or the LiveStrong link on your favorite social network (Facebook/Digg/Reddit/Pinterest/etc) or sending it to someone in need of a tomato parable? You could even give it a little Google + love (there's a +1 button at the bottom of the page.) Thanks, everyone - I fell in love with this little tomato, and I want to share her with the world.
***
In other news, I think the positive thinking is working.
For one thing, that poem came out of nowhere. Well, not nowhere. The heirloom tomato, part of which was my breakfast yesterday, certainly inspired me to cook. The cooking inspired me to take pictures. The pictures inspired me to write. And all of that certainly inspired me to be mindful about savoring my food, much like the Farmer's Market breakfast did on Sunday.
For another thing, I'm down another pound today. That brings the total to 65, for those of you playing at home.
How about you? Are you thinking positively? Or are you down on yourself? If so, what do you do to change it? I hope if you've been thinking negatively about yourself, that you'll take care of yourself today by thinking of at least one positive thing about yourself today. Just give it a try. What can it hurt?
That's beautiful! :) *nom*
ReplyDeleteI LOVE the ode to the tomato! How fun! I really think you're getting into savoring and appreciating your food.
ReplyDeleteI've fallen a bit off track the last week or so to varying degrees, and I was feeling very down on myself yesterday. Instead of wallowing, I took action. I set up a therapy appointment (my first ever!) and I'm making some mindful changes in the way that I'm approaching weight loss. I know that it's going to work!
1) That looks absolutely delicious.
ReplyDelete2) Excellent poem! Loved it. I've long thought that the heirloom tomato needed to be appreciated in verse. :)
I have been wavering between positive and negative thinking - that old self hate comes up and I want to stuff my face or take a nap. I try to keep telling myself I can do this and I'm better than those demons. I loved this post. I want that sandwich!
ReplyDeleteI nom the poem and the dish! xoxo
ReplyDeleteBravo!
ReplyDeleteMy mouth is watering... I LOVE heirloom Tomatoes!
ReplyDeleteI don't think I have ever tried an heirloom tomato.
ReplyDeleteI loved your poem, you have serious writing skills. :)
Congrats on another pound gone forever!
I envy you the experience of meeting a tomato worthy of poetry. (The "walking on the sunny-side-up of the street" is especially delightful.)
ReplyDeleteSeriously, you have motivated me to check out our local farmer's market this weekend.