As we approach the day of sickening oversentimentality love, it seems fitting to devote a post to the love apple aka the tomato.  And just to further add to my bah humbug disdain of the day, I thought I would share another one of my dating disasters from the good old days when I was single (and dinosaurs ruled the Earth).  The first which I posted last Valentine’s day can be found here.

But first, tomatoes…..have to be one of my favorite foods.  And as much as I love the fancy stuff – if you give me two slices of white bread, spread liberally with butter, some slices of tomato, preferably fresh from the garden some salt and pepper….right there you have a little bit of my idea of heaven.

And speaking of tomato heaven, this salad is one of the best things I have ever eaten. And it’s not just my favourite tomato salad, it is also a mash up of Rosemary Mayne Wilson’s Favourite Tomato Salad and her Superb Blue Cheese Dressing.

Just look at this and tell me it’s not one of the prettiest things you have ever seen? And just to gild that lily?  The dressing contains a hefty dose of blue cheese.  And a liberal splash of sherry for those of you who, much like myself, like to have a little bit o’ booze with….well pretty much anything.

So tasty and full of yummy deliciousness.  But as we celebrate the love apple, let’s also take a step back into my dark, deep dating history for another disaster story.

So, a few years ago, I was dating a  someone  who…seemed pretty normal.  Until.

STRIKE ONE

We were due to meet my mum and her partner for dinner one night.  And we had to park a little bit away from the restaurant. As we started walking through the car park, he went to spit on the ground.

Which, is pretty disgusting in, and of, itself.  But then came

STRIKE TWO.

So. He goes to spit on the ground.

Only thing is…he misses.

Misses the ground that is  How you ask?  How can he miss the ground?  Do you live in a land of anti-gravity?

No,  He missed the ground because he spat all over his own shoe.

Feel free to insert massive eyeroll at will.

Bad enough, you’re going to spit on the ground.  That’s uncouth.  Do you need to add uncoordinated onto that as well?

So now we’re half way across the car park. He has a big gob of spit on his right shoe.  Which needs to be gotten rid of pronto because we’re about to meet my parents.

And here comes

STRIKE THREE

He chose to get rid of that big gob of spit by lifting up his right leg and wiping it on the back of his jeans on his left leg.

Appalling, I know.  But you haven’t even heard the worst.

Because  even though I  know that technically there’s no such thing as a

STRIKE FOUR

The worst thing?

Let’s just suppose I had accidentally spat on my own foot…it would never happen but you know…in the realms of  absolute fantasy….

I would have hopped about shrieking like a banshee for….I don’t know, at least a good ten minutes…

“OMG, I’ve spat on my own shoe…what am I going to do?  I need to get it off, how am I going to get it off…where’s the nearest shoe shop? I need to buy new shoes…” etc.

HE did not even break stride. It was like spit, shoe, wipe…all in one fluid motion.  Which only meant one thing….

It wasn’t the first time he had done it.

He was a serial spitter and misser.

That relationship didn’t last the carpark….

This tomato salad should become an immediate part of your summer repertoire.  It’s so  damn good!!!

Happy Valentine’s Day!!!!  Hope it’s fabulous whatever you do!

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