When we brought home these yellow cherry tomatoes this afternoon, I discovered one had burst at the bottom of the bag. I handed it to my fiance to be eaten immediately. He hummed with delight as he chewed, declaring that the amazing fruit took him right back to childhood days when he picked tomatoes right off the vine from his grandmother's garden. I'm going to eat one, I said, thinking of my own garden-picking days, only to be further enabled by my fiance's response. You should.
I did. And it was glorious.