RED BEDS


Late August.  Wander through the greenhouse in heady evening air.  One unmistakeable scent fills this space.  Plump tomatoes, there for the picking.  Long days of sun have finally turned them from hard green fruits with potential, to definite runners for  ‘the best taste of summer’ prize.   That aroma as they are plucked gently from the plant  –  a sense-fuddling mix of greenhouse earthiness and natural sweetness. We clutch each precious fruit and rub a thumb tenderly over its skin.  There’s firmness, with the teeniest yield to the touch that shouts ripeness.  Well they take some beating.  We fill our basket readily.Back in the kitchen, a sharp knife does the job of slicing each fruit thinly.  Slices laid carefully on a plate.  A scatter of snipped chives or torn leaves of fresh basil.   Rich golden stream of Irish rapeseed oil.  Sea salt flakes.  Generous grinding of black pepper.  This feast is about to begin…