The weather has literally snapped and I think that's it. It's autumn, it's cold and the tomatoes are at their last. We have eaten tomato sandwiches every single day since July and I'm still not bored of them. Michael introduced the sandwiches to me with our heirlooms last year – crusty bread, tomatoes, homemade mayonnaise and salt. Nothing else. I was baffled. No olive oil, no basil? An unequivocal no. And he was right. They are absolute perfection and I am sad to be eating my last. On our bread this summer we had the following tomatoes: Summer Cider Apricot, Marianna's Peace, Black from Tula, Orange Strawberries, White Beauties, Pink Ice, and my favorite, Purple Cherokee. The farmer's market had nothin' on these rooftop Brooklyn beauties, and today I mourn their passing.