We have our first ripe tomato and bushels upon bushels of greens hanging in waiting for time, torch, and temperature to bring them to pluckable perfection. Rufus practically bites the tomato out of my hand and I’m about to start walking around with a salt shaker myself. It’s safe to say we’re in the puppy love stage of tomato season when Rufus fries up green tomatoes for dinner alongside tacos with a ripe tomato topping. Over the top? I think not. Tomato burnout is imminent, but in the beginning, they’re irresistible! (sticks salt shaker in pocket for later)