I sometimes wonder if reading this blog is like listening to the old uncle who rolls out the same stories every time nostalgia strikes. So many of the things I write about touch upon the same nerve centers, leading me down similar rabbit holes from the past.
My uncle's stories never grew old—each time I was a captive, willing audience, eager to listen to those well-worn tales with fresh ears. This thought was on my mind while prepping fresh tomatoes to make sauce. I wasn't sure if I'd ever talked about how to do it properly, and set my mind to snapping some photos for a step-by-step tutorial.
As it turns out, I've written about how to peel the skins, but I find photos to be quite helpful, so I suppose writing about them again today isn't too redundant. While taking a photo of tomatoes simmering in a thin layer of water, it occurred to me that any cooking-related photos I take these next few days will be the last in this kitchen. That left me feeling sentimental.