tomatoes

For as long as I can remember, corn has been one of my favorite summertime foods. As a kid, I loved to sit on the picnic table in our backyard shucking ear after ear of the patchwork white-and-pale-yellow Olathe sweet corn my mom would bring home by the bushel. Later I’d slather it with butter and salt and sink my teeth in the way my dog attacks a meaty beef bone.

When I got my braces in fifth grade, I learned to eat corn on the cob one row at a time to minimize the hardware-cleaning process (corn was officially forbidden by the orthodontist, but I really think I outsmarted him on this one; don’t ask about my Milk Dud incident). I always thought eating something as nutritious as a fresh vegetable — especially since I loved it so much — was worth it.

You don’t realize how ubiquitous certain foods are until you can’t eat them. I’m speaking, of course, of the ongoing tomato salmonella scare. At the sandwich shop where I had lunch the other day, a sign at the counter announced that they were not serving tomatoes at all on their sandwiches or in their salads. The sign, funnily enough, was right next to a sign announcing their new summer salad: a tomato, basil and mozzarella salad.