Showing, not telling: a sensual taste experience


‘Sweet 100’ cherry tomatoes are ripening and I can’t resist plucking one from the vine and popping it into my mouth. My tongue teases the curves and presses them into submission. Warmed by sunshine the globe bursts into juices that dribble off my chin and give my taste buds visions of Tuscany.

There’s no resemblance to the meek store-bought varieties that do nothing more than garnish a salad. No, this rich scarlet morsel explodes with all the fulfillment of summer’s nurture, provoking my taste buds and enticing me to tug another from the vine.

I see a writing application emerging – demonstrating the difference between telling you that these tomatoes taste good, and showing you the sensual experience of eating them. Mmmm. 😉

Now it’s your turn. How else could you describe their taste, or the taste of another favourite food? Give it a try!


“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father.”
[James 1:17a KJV] 



Published by Carol

A freelance writer of fiction and non-fiction living on the West Coast of Canada.

11 thoughts on “Showing, not telling: a sensual taste experience

  1. That’s a great example 🙂

    I’m still on my blog vacation so I’ll do two in one. The virgo side of me needs order and routine, my Libra ponders over the possibility of doing the laundry and in the end happily talks me out of it. Writerly-wise I can’t keep away from it and feel compelled to do something every day. Where I let my Libra take over is often in what I write. I might work on the WIP, or a post or I might skip over to a short story. A nutty way to keep both sides of me happy.

    Each August in the NE millions of us stand by our nearest roadside farmer’s stand, wait with anticipation at our fav vegie market and snap up what we consider the best tomato grown from God’s good earth. The Jersey Beefstake, fat and ripe, big and red, crack her open and the aroma alone knocks your socks off. Not waiting to go home and attempt to be civilized, at least one or two of these juicy wonders are devoured in the car, or walking along the avenue. The Jersey Beekstake is a warm reminder of how much Mother Nature loves us.

  2. I often shop at a local farm that offers produce, just picked. . . and their corn is to die for. Fat kernals shiny with butter, specks of pepper and seasalt and an occasional thread of tassel from our haste at husking; and, yes, to the tomatoes–green, yellow, even purple–thick sliced, battered and fried; that pop-snap of green
    beans; apples and lettuce and chin drips of peach juice. Every item brings up long past memories.

  3. What an awesome photo. You captured the very essence of your tomato. Makes me feel as if I could just help myself.

    “The tomato’s skin chilled my palm, sending goosebumps up my arm. I tugged, yanked, freed the tomato and placed it to my nose. Sweet, fresh. One bite, juice ran down my chin, cold, clean, spilling onto my white shirt. Did I care? The bite I’d taken sat on my tongue, oozing into every taste bud. Coated eeds slipped down my throat, swimming like morsels of God’s greatest gift until an explosion of cheers rang out in my stomach. Happiness spread across my face while my voice remained silent, words inadequate. I couldn’t speak, wouldn’t, because there was still bites to savour, chew, enjoy. God’s Garden of delight, how could I resist?”

  4. Hi everyone. Thanks for stopping in to comment today. Earlene, I especially love your “pop-snap of green beans” and “chin drips of peach juice”! And Joylene… wow! — “oozing into every taste bud” and “an explosion of cheers” are powerful images, too. 🙂

  5. You just made my mouth water. Sun-ripened tomatoes are akin to candy in our house. We eat them as treats.

    Thanks for the very visual (both the pic and the prose) of your summer pleasures.


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