Shall I tell you the origin of my intensely personal vendetta against tomatoes? Yes, I shall. I have never liked tomatoes; not in a sandwich, not on a pizza, and not mashed up deviously in tomato ketchup. Cold, slimy, evil bastards. I just didn’t like them; it was a simple sensory fact. But after my first meal at Peaceful Pastures Clinic, my aversion to tomatoes became suddenly, and forevermore, an intensely personal affair.
