Welcome to our new web site!
To give our readers a chance to experience all that our new website has to offer, we have made all content freely avaiable, through October 1, 2018.
During this time, print and digital subscribers will not need to log in to view our stories or e-editions.
Miss Alice Ward gave my first wife a bag of garden fresh vine ripe tomatoes. I ate a tomato sandwich just as fast as Cathy could get one out of the sack. And thought about my Dad...
He was a meat and potatoes guy. He wanted bacon and eggs for breakfast and roast beef, chicken and lots of vegetables the rest of the day. He didn’t eat sandwiches. As little kids we marveled that he wasn’t even fond of hamburgers.
But a perfectly ripe tomato sandwich was the exception. I can see Dad right now sitting in his “place” at that red-topped Formica kitchen table. He would swab a boatload of Miracle Whip salad dressing on two pieces of Colonial Bread, pile three or four slices of tomatoes in between and eat...for a while!
I silently thanked Miss Alice for the memory.
Leon wouldn’t even wait for the tomatoes to make it to the table. He’d mosey around the garden till he found the best tomato we had. He’d twist it off and eat it right there. That first bite sent juice flying everywhere!
It didn’t bother Leon. He’d pull a miniature round shaker—we’d call it “travel size” today—of Morton Salt out of his pocket and pour it liberally over where his next bite was going. He’d then move on to the second best tomato in the field... It sometimes took Leon thirty minutes to gather three tomatoes for supper.
Another great memory!
Of course, you had to be careful making this memory. In between bites Leon would sometimes snatch a “puny” or “blemished” tomato off a vine and throw it at your head! I’m telling you, it was hard to hide behind a cucumber.
I’d pull up a radish and throw it in his direction. He was five years older. I didn’t have a chance and quickly retreated back past the woodpile.
I can still hear his laugher...as he salted down a spot for his next bite.
We are talking those Big Red Heirloom tomatoes here. Mom didn’t like those smaller varieties. And she didn’t like the plum colored or yellow tomatoes.
And green tomatoes weren’t even on her radar.