This is the first cucumber I harvested from my mini backyard garden. I had to photograph it in the sunshine to give it a bit of a haloed effect before scarfing it down.
Cucumbers hold a special place in my tummy and rank at the top of my favourite food list along with blueberries. Perhaps it's because of their sentimental value.
I associate cucumbers with my paternal grandmother's sprawling garden, which had dozens of rows of veggies, a thicket of raspberry bushes and sorrel growing under the shade of a nearby tree.
It was massive and you were always guaranteed to emerge with a handful of something. I mostly made the beeline for the cucumbers.
I can't honestly imagine anything better
than the taste of a small cucumber plucked fresh from the vine, sliced
up and sprinkled with salt. That's all it needs. Anything more is
blasphemy.
And so I'm more than a little excited that after tossing a few plants in the ground, I have a tiny mess of tangled vines heavy with more blossoms than I can count. Not that I'm worried about being able to eat all of them...
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