Browsing in the slow heat of a July evening, I find myself seduced by the bounty of our local summer harvest. Table after table provides a gorgeous sight for those starving for food at its peak.

How can anyone eat a storebought berry, tomato, melon, or zucchini after having one so fresh and so perfect? In that first slice of summer melon for breakfast, cut over a bowl to catch the musky winey juices, I swoon. Or a perfect summer tomato, with it's bright smell and heaviness, eaten with fresh basil and olive oil as a salad, or even better, in a summer tomato and bacon sandwich eaten greedily with a cold beer. Is there anything better this time of year?

Tomatoes so deliciously flavorful they can be eaten raw, raspberries full of juice that explodes in your mouth when pressed against your tongue, and peaches so sweet they dribble their heavenly juices down your chin and onto your shirt with that first bite. It's this, the glorious height of summer bounty that reminds us, no matter how fleeting, that ripeness is all.