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Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Food & Life Remembering tomatoes

Posted by Cliff Bostock @cliffbostock on Wed, Aug 15, 2007 at 4:50 PM

Is anything as anticipated as the summer tomato crop? I've hit the Morningside Farmers Market two Saturdays in a row, hoping to score some beauties, but have arrived the final hour of business both times and found the supply picked-over (see photo at right). Lucky for me that for the last three summers I've been able to buy primo tomatoes supercheap at a very unlikely location. And, no, I ain't telling where.

Few foods produce as much nostalgic rumination of life in the South as the vine-ripened tomato. As a kid, I recall my Aunt Nancy's tomatoes, grown at her home in Darlington, S.C., and brought to Cherry Grove Beach where they were always part of the enormous breakfasts she and my mother prepared.

The tomato also reminds me of my years, just out of college, editing weekly newspapers in rural Georgia. I especially recall Elberton, where local residents used to leave their garden bounty on my doorstep or at my office. I learned to brace myself whenever I saw someone walking through the door with paper bags. I knew they'd be full of just-picked tomatoes and other produce.

Frequently, the gifts were payoffs for dropping by to photograph their kid's Little League team with the Jimmy Olsen-style 4 x 5-format Speed Grafic I used. My across-the-street neighbor there was an elderly woman who was especially generous with her produce. She raised koi fish in ponds that were made out of junked refrigerators buried in her yard.

Another memory is going to lunch occasionally at Betty Talmadge's Lovejoy plantation. Mrs. Talmadge, who died two years ago, was the former wife of Herman Talmadge, a former Georgia governor who served four (controversial) terms in the U.S. Senate. She ran Talmadge Farms, which cured country hams, and wrote a couple of cookbooks. I got to know her after she granted me the first interview in which she discussed her contentious divorce from the senator.

A summertime lunch at Lovejoy meant iced tea and sandwiches made of vine-ripened tomatoes layered with sweet Vidalia onions, served in a solarium-style dining room or outside by the pool, not far from the rabbit hutch identified as the home of "Rabbit E. Lee."

I also recall my friend Fred Dubose, author of The Total Tomato. As part of his research, Fred attended one of the countless tomato festivals in the South, where the Tomato Queen attempted to seduce him with fancy "highballs" and the charm only a Southern woman in a tiara can evince.

Of course, every tomato grower's dilemma, even after giving away half his crop, is what to do with his tomatoes besides eating them sliced at every meal. This morning, the Washington Post includes the results of its Easy Tomato Recipe Contest as part of its Total Tomato issue. The winner is Linda Reck's "simple yet sophisticated" Caprese Granita. Says the Post:

Her recipe caught our attention right from the start. The savory, small appetizer is a play on two of Reck's Italian favorites: caprese salad and coffee granita. She strains a macerated mixture of tomatoes, garlic, salt and vinegar to make a frozen base that forms light, icy crystals. Just before serving, she folds in shreds of fresh basil. A small dollop of mascarpone cheese is a surprise that awaits between two layers of the tomato granita; a sprinkling of chopped black olives tops each portion.

Check out the Post's recipes and related stories here. And feel free to share your own memories featuring tomatoes.

Tags: Food & Life, tomatoes

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Last summer we got some pretty good tomatoes at that produce stand at the corner of Moreland and Ponce in the gas station parking lot. I think they benefited from roasting all day in the mix of hot sun and car exhaust from nearby traffic. When I was a kid, my dad would always have tomato vines growing on the side of the house. I remember one summer day when I was walking around the yard with my granddad, showing him the vines with nicely ripened tomatoes on them. My granddad plucked one off the vine, gave it a brief buff on his pants and bit right into it. I was totally grossed out. Between seeing Granddad eat a sloppy/juicy tomato like and apple and my dad's repulsive tomato sandwiches with overly thick slices heaped on plain white bread, coated with a pile of mayo, I went through a period of distaste for the fruit in its uncooked format. But as an adult I learned that I could make my own sandwiches with thinner slices and less mayo on tasted good bread - and a little good quality cheese too. Now I've gotten to where I love tomatoes so much I grieve with everyone else over the quality of the ones you normally find in the produce section and I hope to have a place some day where I can grow my own vines.

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