They say when life gives you lemons, you need to make lemonade. Well, this past week, no lemons came my way. Instead, I got tomatoes.
It's a funny story actually. A few weeks ago, I got a craving for some delicious, right-off-the-vine, plump tomatoes. Each week, I order my groceries online from Sentry on the Go, so I went to their website to see what my options were.
I chose the ones I wanted, but when I had to enter the quantity, I was a little confused. It said that there were three or four tomatoes per vine, so I ordered two under the assumption that I would get six or eight tomatoes.
When my groceries came, I rummaged through my bags only to discover that I had just two tomatoes to my name. It was so sad.
The next week, I ordered some more food. This time, I attempted to outsmart the online grocery system, and I typed 4"" in the quantity box, thinking that I would indeed get four tomatoes. This seemed logical to me at the time, since the last time I ordered two I got two. Oh, how wrong I was.
The day my food was supposed to arrive, I stepped out of the elevator, happy to be home from class. I saw my neighbor at the end of the hallway.
""You should make salsa with all those tomatoes,"" she yelled over to me. Needless to say, I was curious as to what she meant. I knew my groceries came while I was gone, but receiving an abnormal amount of tomatoes was the least of my expectations.
I nervously opened my refrigerator and shrieked in horror. Tomatoes were taking over the entire appliance! They were literally everywhere.
I tried to contain them to one produce drawer, but they fought me at all costs. I was forced to surrender my entire designated shelf to the 16 tomatoes that now belonged to me. It left me upset.
What really killed me was that Sentry was getting the last laugh here. The masters of grocery may have ignored the obvious question: why would a student need 16 tomatoes, maybe she meant four. Still, I wasn't about to let them ruin my week.
Now that I had four whole vines of tomatoes, I felt a little lost. This was way too much for any normal person to handle, and something had to be done. However, in any standard lemon-to-lemonade situation, there is a lesson to be learned. And I'm going to be honest, I did learn some great lessons from my extreme tomato excess.
Lesson No. 1: I learned to be more in touch with my culture. I'm not a very adventurous cook, and the microwave is usually my best friend. But with all of these tomatoes, I figured I could make some delectable Israeli salad. I called my mom up for the recipe, and it turned out that some Mediterranean flavor is just what I needed. This lemony goodness was a great way to connect myself with the Jewish homeland, and I was proud that I tried something new.
Lesson No. 2: I learned what it means to be less wasteful. I was determined to use up all of these tomatoes if it was the last thing I did. I chopped them into my pasta, made tons of salads and sliced them up for snacks.
I made sure I was as green as possible and did not let any of these precious vegetables end up in the garbage. I am now prepared for any food supply shortage that comes my way since I'm well versed in using all of a food's parts.
Lesson No. 3: I learned it is impossible to throw your tomatoes at others. In a sorry attempt, I tried to send tomatoes home with anyone who set foot into my apartment. The tomatoes became a makeshift parting gift, like the losers get on ""The Newlywed Game."" Sadly, there were no takers for this unbelievably rare prize.
I learned that like our lemons, we cannot pass our tomatoes onto our friends - we've got to learn how to deal with our own problems.
All in all, my tomatoes taught me a lot about responsibility. Although they were a burden, and they still are since I'm only halfway done with them, I enjoyed all of the learning experiences I endured on my quest to get rid of them. It was also a great conversation starter.
So in conclusion, when life chucks some tomatoes at you like you're a bad comedian in a seedy comedy club, make some tomato juice.
If you feel like life is handing you nothing but Thanksgiving leftovers, ask Ariel for some tips to dish them out by e-mailing her at akraut@wisc.edu.
