Better than no buckets of tomatoes. But not as good as ten or twenty or fifty buckets of tomatoes, like other years.
So we're enjoying them while they last.
A golden early autumn evening. Warm outside in the garden, still light at eight o'clock.
Fresh sliced tomatoes straight from the garden tossed through linguini with crumbled fresh ricotta, a splash of olive oil and a shower of cracked pepper.
Fresh bread and a glass of red as the sun goes down. Heaven.