My grandma always talked so fondly about how my grandpa always enjoyed his first tomato of the season right from his garden. He would take his Morton salt with him and bite into it like an apple. I remember partaking in this with him and thinking that he had a "special" kind of salt and to this day, even though I know better, it is the only type of salt I buy.
After nothing but months of rain, I had only one tomato pop out early this year. I treated my little survivor like a baby, and when it was finally ready I dragged it to Charleston with me so that Michael could be apart of the tradition (Gracie had a piece too). We had it for a midnight snack (hence the pj's) and it was a fabulous as it looks!