Tomato Heaven

It's difficult to think anything but pleasant thoughts while eating a homegrown tomato. Lewis Grizzard

I love tomatoes. And when I use the term love, I mean I LOVE tomatoes. A freshly picked tomato is by far one of my favorite foods. But, as with everything else, I'm very picky when it comes to the origin of the tomatoes on my plate. I don't like tomatoes from Georgia or South Carolina. This is slight a problem since I'm from Georgia, and I grew up going to the South Carolina Lowcountry every summer since I was 6 months old. The natural soil in Georgia/Carolina is far too sandy for producing the perfect tomato. The result of sandy soil is a mealy, crunchy, tasteless tomato. Now all you Georgia and South Carolina tomato lovers don't get upset; it's just my opinion.

As I said, every summer my family vacationed at Fripp Island, South Carolina, but I spent over half of my summer vacation in Malvern, Arkansas, visiting my grandparents. This is where I found tomato heaven. Nana, always had a small garden and grew corn, squash, cantaloupe, watermelon, and of course my favorite, tomatoes. Every morning, it was my job to trek out to the garden and see if any of the precious baby tomatoes spent the night changing from a bright green color to their deep, ripe red. The idea of picking tomatoes is probably not enjoyable for some people, but for me it's pure happiness. The smell of tomatoes just picked off the vine sends me over the moon, and takes me back to my childhood. The earthy, bitter scent of its vine transcends into a fruitful, sweet smell of a ripe and juicy tomato in a matter of a few fleeting moments.

My love for the tomato never wavers, and I do not discriminate against any variety. This morning, I stopped at the farmers market with my mother and grandparents to get some fresh, and I mean just picked this morning, vegetables. We loaded up our baskets with bright yellow summer squash, emerald hued okra, bluer than blue blueberries, and those beautiful ripe, and unripe, tomatoes. That's right, we picked up red and green tomatoes. We bought 20 pounds of red and 5 green tomatoes. I'm sure you can imagine what good southern women will do with the green ones--fry them up, of course!

I can't think of a better way to enjoy a freshly picked tomato other than a bacon and tomato sandwich with loads of good quality, creamy mayonaise. Today, an old favorite stands the test of time presenting itself with Duke's mayonaise, Arkansas Petit Jean bacon, Colonial white bread, and a delicious ripe Arkansas tomato. Can anything else remind you of summer and pure happiness? I didn't think so.

I haven't forgotten about tomatoes in their liquid state. Today, my grandmother taught me one of the best cooking lessons of my young life. I learned the "almost" lost art of canning. We quartered the tomatoes, removed the core, boiled them, strained them, sterilized the jars, filled them, sealed them, boiled them, and finally watched, and heard, the top seal with a POP. Incidentally, tomato juice coincides with my favorite time of day...cocktail time! The Bloody Mary is a classic brunch staple. There are too many variations, tomato juice mixes and different taste preferences to claim the following is the perfect Bloody Mary, but I'm going to do it anyway

The Best Bloody Mary

4 ounces fresh tomato juice
2 ounces good vodka
Juice from half a lime
1/4 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
1/3 teaspoon prepared horseradish
few dashes hot pepper sauce (I like Texas Pete)
1/3 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon salt

Garnish: large Spanish olives, pickled okra, lime slices and celery salt

Rub the rim of a high ball glass with a lime slice and dip it into a plate filled with celery salt.

Fill a cocktail shaker half full with ice. Add the tomato juice, vodka, lime juice, Worcestershire sauce, horseradish, and hot pepper sauce. Shake well and pour into the rimmed high ball glass. Squeeze the lime in the glass and garnish with two olives and a pickled okra. Yum.