The Tomato Witch

Lila loved tomatoes. She loved their bright colors, their juicy flesh, their sweet and tangy flavor. She loved how they grew in her garden, from tiny seeds to plump fruits. She loved how they symbolized the magic of summer, the abundance of the earth, the generosity of the sun.

She was known as the tomato witch among her coven, and she didn’t mind. She was proud of her tomatoes, especially her heirloom varieties, which she had inherited from her grandmother, who had inherited them from her grandmother, and so on. She had tomatoes of all shapes and sizes, from cherry to beefsteak, from red to yellow to green to purple. She had tomatoes with names like Brandywine, Cherokee Purple, Green Zebra, and Sun Gold. She had tomatoes that tasted like candy, like wine, like lemon, like smoke.

She used her tomatoes in all kinds of dishes, from salads to sauces to soups. But her favorite dish was a simple heirloom tomato tart, which she made with a flaky crust, a layer of pesto, some crumbled feta cheese, and slices of her best tomatoes. She baked it until the cheese melted and the crust turned golden, and then she garnished it with fresh basil leaves. It was a dish that celebrated the essence of tomatoes, their beauty and their flavor.

She made this tart every year for the summer solstice, when her coven gathered at her house for a ritual and a feast. She welcomed them with hugs and smiles, and led them to her backyard, where she had set up a table under a canopy of vines and flowers. She had prepared a spread of dishes that featured her garden’s bounty: cucumber salad, corn on the cob, grilled zucchini, watermelon feta salad, and of course, her heirloom tomato tart.

Her coven members oohed and aahed as they saw the food, but they were especially drawn to the tart. They admired its colors and its aroma, and they couldn’t wait to taste it. Lila cut them each a slice and handed them out with napkins. She watched as they took their first bites, and saw their eyes widen and their mouths smile.

“Mmm, this is amazing,” said Rosemary, who was the leader of the coven.

“So delicious,” said Sage, who was the youngest member.

“Divine,” said Lavender, who was the most artistic one.

“Magical,” said Thyme, who was the most scholarly one.

Lila felt a warm glow in her heart as she heard their compliments. She took a bite of her own slice and savored it. She felt the energy of the tomatoes in her mouth and in her body. She felt connected to the earth and to the sun. She felt grateful for her gift and for her friends.

She raised her slice in a toast and said, “Happy solstice, everyone. Thank you for being here. Thank you for being my coven.”

They raised their slices back and echoed her words. They ate their tart with joy and gratitude. They felt the magic of tomatoes and summer.

We thank the Earth for giving birth to this food. We thank the Sun for nourishing it. We thank the Wind for carrying its seed. We thank the Rain for quenching its thirst. We thank the hands that helped to grow this food, To bring it to our tables To nourish our minds, bodies, and spirits. Blessed be this Heirloom Tomato Tart, a gift of the harvest and the earth. May it fill us with joy and gratitude.

-So mote it be.