What am I thinking?

There have been days recently when I did not eat a raw tomato. What's up with that? The window for these things is small. They are delicious. I have not eaten enough ensalata caprese, nor enough BLTs. When it is chilly December, I am going to regret this.

I generally like to eat tomatoes until I am almost (never quite, though) sick of them. Then, when they go away I can happily eat other things until I get that hankering in June (although I avoid them until mid-July). I have, however, been eating a fair amount of freshly made simple tomato sauce (San Marzano tomatoes, sliced garlic, EVOO, pinch of salt, finished with julienned basil), and that is good. Especially when the San Marzanos are from the garden.

Which brings me to this recommendation. Too late for this year, I know, but think about it for next year: plant a lot of San Marzano tomatoes. These are the best saucing tomatoes out there. The vines are abundant, and the flavor and texture is outstanding.

Tonight we will make a caprese from our black tomatoes (a good slicer).

Looking at Pictures of Rome

A friend of mine is in Italy right now, and he has posted his pictures of Rome. I hate looking at pictures of Rome, because it makes me want to hop on the next plane over there.

California is a great place. Last night I was at the lovely Native Sons of the Golden West hall in Napa, which is an excellent example of a 19th century meeting space (if you are a native-born Californian in the area, y'otta join), and was quite impressed. However, we lack the baroque. Sure, there is the old Highland Hospital in Oakland or St. Ignatius, and in a way Tim Pfleuger's art deco captures the spirit of the baroque, but we lack the over-the-top, feel-the-might-of-pope-and-prince baroque splendor that Rome offers in spades.

Public architecture should inspire not a feeling of "oh, I am going to take charge today!" but rather "I, worm that I am, am unworthy to serve you, my liege." When we go to the window at the post office, we should be reminded that we are petitioning an Officer of the State to do us a Favor, to use some of the vast resources dedicated to the protection of the Common Good for some little personal errand. And we damn well better have our hat in hand and not demand it! The architecture should reflect this.

Remember: Every citizen with a special request is a potential seditionist. Sure, he only wants to post a letter today (and, oh, if you please, make change for a twenty, and do you sell envelopes, and could you look up this address, and, and, and, while you're at it, could you divert a tank division to clear a parking spot for me, and do it with a smile, too!), but give him enough time and indulgence and he will be demanding Air Force One treatment. And architecture that doesn't strive to crush his spirit will only encourage him.

But surely men should feel loved and part of something bigger, and that is the beauty of the baroque. You experience not the biggness of your own ego in the baroque, but in the joy of being part of a much vaster cosmos, a much vaster polis, a much vaster people. The baroque is the expression of the rightful sentiments of man.

Pray!
Pay!
Believe! Obey! Fight!