It is, perhaps, a fool’s errand to attempt to improve upon the most perfect of summer lunches: a tomato sandwich. If you have a ripe tomato in hand, you’re not likely to make a bad sandwich, no matter ...
In the middle of a transcendent BLT, I felt the sadness coming on. It happens every year, around the end of summer. How, I worry, can I possibly make it through another winter bereft of the pleasures ...
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