It’s father’s Day today. I am making Tomato Sauce.
I didn’t think the two were related, but as the day has gone on I find they are.
Earlier this week I decided I wanted a “real” Spaghetti sauce, and I knew I would have to make it. So today, ( Sunday) I went to the market and bought $4 worth of tomatoes $.50 worth of onions some green and red peppers ( expensive here 3 per $) and started to make my sauce.
Also this morning I Skyped my dad to talk with him… he had a rough week and I hope that I could cheer him up. It seemed to work… when I talked with him he looked good, and was smiling.
I grew up in a small ton in Southern Ontario where the main employer, and where my dad worked, was the local canning factory. During the Tomato harvest season, the plant would operate 24 hours a day/ 7 days a week.
The Factory was at the end of my street, across the school yard. At night the steam would be rising around the factory, with lights glowing, farm tractors and wagons full of ripe, red, juicy tomatoes arriving and leaving, there was a general hiss and din…. and all over town was the smell. The smell of tomatoes being cooked. The smell of prosperity for the town. I guess, because of the winds, the smell wasn’t as heavy during the day, but those hot, end of summer nights the smell was everywhere. And then, just like summer, it would stop. The end of the smell meant the coming of fall, and too soon winter.
This is the smell I encounter in my kitchen, in southern ecuador, that opens the flood of memories of my life when I was younger… my brothers, my sister. my mother and especially the tall strong kind intelligent ( he knew everything in my eyes) man who is my father.
It is days like this that I wished I lived a little closer.
Have a good day everyone.