Prowling around this morning, the way gardeners do – sniffing the scent of daphne in the air, pulling the odd weed from the path – I suddenly noticed it, already flat open in the sun, with petals of a most brilliant yellow, washed on the back with a soft tomato-red.
The team were pelted with soft tomatoes on their return home, the start of a fine cathartic tradition and the only emotional purge that goes well with penne.
It was pretty enough to serve to company, and expandable enough to use up all the soft tomatoes on the oozing brink.
To this I added the softest tomatoes from my stash, shell beans from the farmers' market and chicken broth (vegetable broth works, too).
A soft, overripe tomato with flesh that melts under the knife is not usually what I want for my tomato salads, which generally require more taut specimens.
When soft, add tomatoes and wine.
On a recent trip around south-east London's greengrocers, I collected spaghetti, lettuces, soft, fragrant tomatoes and plump avocados, just approaching ripeness.
Lower heat to medium and continue to cook, stirring occasionally, until vegetables are soft; add tomatoes and bring to a boil.
The thatch of linguine, rich with bacon bits, strands of escarole and soft Italian tomatoes in a sprightly wine sauce, didn't need the clams to be a success, but it would be even better if tiny, thin-shelled clams were substituted for its six chewy chowder-type ones.
