Posted on 03/04/2021 6:08:55 AM PST by mylife
There is little to look forward to in the sweatiest days of summer—the days when it feels like you can’t cool down even if you peeled your skin off—except for the pleasure of a peak summer tomato and putting that perfect tomato in a sandwich.
People have many thoughts on how to construct a tomato sandwich, my preference: squishy white bread, lightly toasted; mayo (Hellmann’s is fine with me, though I know fans of Duke’s mayo have strong feelings here); salt and pepper; and thick slices of the plumpest, juiciest tomatoes I can find—the ones you feel tempted to cradle home for fear that they’ll burst en route. This sandwich, it should go without saying, is best eaten over the sink or with an ample supply of paper towels, because if you do it right, it’s messy as hell. I look forward to the scarce few weeks per year when I can eat this sandwich; in my opinion, a November or March tomato is just not good enough to carry something so simple. Luckily, the pro-tomato sandwich coalition has logged onto to defend our maligned icon. As some Twitter users have pointed out, the anti-tomato sandwich sentiments seem like rude digs at the South and to the idea of struggle meals. If the tomato sandwich grosses you out, perhaps the problem isn’t the sandwich itself or even the messy video, but your tomatoes.
Southern Living suggests this treat any time of year, but to really understand the tomato sandwich, I’d suggest setting a reminder for July or August; buying the best, ugliest heirloom tomato you can find; cutting that sucker into slices; then enjoying the experience, drippy mayo and all. If that doesn’t convert you, well, at least you tried it and didn’t just give in to petty Twitter outrage.
(Excerpt) Read more at vice.com ...
In praise of the homegrown tomato...
My Italian grandfather grew his own tomatoes (in NJ - laugh all you want, something about the soil produces some of the most succulent tomatoes you will ever taste...it’s not called the Garden State for nothing)...Anyway, in the summer he would make a meal of tomatoes (cut up into medium-sized chunks), mixed with a bit of oil and water, add some crushed garlic (not too much), chopped tomatoes, if you like (he never did), a bit of parsley, a dash of oregano. Stir, stir, stir until everything blends, the tomatoes have had a chance to break down a bit to add their juice to the mix...and let sit for a few minutes...Then get the best, crustiest loaf of Italian bread that you can find...tear off a hunk and swirl that bread in the tomato “stew” you’ve created...
I am firmly convinced that this is on the menu in Heaven and my grandfather is the prep cook mixing it together...
Use garlic salt on butter side of grilled cheese. Once cheese is melty, add two thick slices of cold tomatoes. Yum yum eat em up. The combo of hot and cold and melty and juicy with a garlicky toasted Texas Toast. Scrumptious.
Tomatoes, a bit of frisee greens, mozzarella, balsamic vinaigrette.
Yom
If it is from Vice I am gonna guess that there is hash butter in it.
>>Good vine ripened tomato’s are Gods gift to us.
Only the rich and connected had them in Soylent Green.
My grandfather did the same. Right out of his garden which he used chicken poop for his manure. Boy did that stink. But somehow he’d get tomatoes in upstate NY by July 4th.
:)
should be chopped onion...you NEED the tomatoes...DUH!
Exactly.
Who would eat just a tomato sandwich? Tomatoes are what you ADD to a sandwich.
What’s next? Eating a Pickle Sandwich? Maybe a Lettuce Sandwich?
I don’t want to know what my grandfather used for fertilizer...but I remember the taste...That was a meal we would all have about once a week during the summer months...
“...when they squeeze the juice and seeds out and discard it.”
When I see that, I tell myself that the seeds get under their dentures.
My grandfather lived near a lake. Every spring, he’d fish for a catfish and he would then rototill in his garden. He grew the biggest vegetables ever. Like foot-long carrots that were 5” circumference.
No, it’s probably because I hate tomatoes.
As a kid garden fresh tomato sandwiches were eaten on the back porch steps, legs spread wide, leaning forward and getting down to work. As we became older and more civilized we were allowed tomato sandwiches indoors...over the sink after we acquired the necessary height.
;>)
Back in the 80’s, I lived out in the Michiana area in the midwest one glorious year. On our first trip to a Kroger Supermarket we noticed the size of the vegetables...my friend simply said, “Food of the gods!”
And now, the produce aisle is filled with scrawny, picked too early, tasteless...I don’t know what to call it.
Mayonnaise is overrated.
Substitute a thin layer of cream cheese. Add lots of pepper. I’d pay $25 to eat one right now.
My Dad would go fishing almost every day when weather permitted, any carp went into the garden.
White bread, smeared with mayo, ripe tomato slices, sprinkle of salt and pepper, dash of tabasco, onion slices, slice of mild cheddar and top with another slice of mayoed white bread. Serve with Lays original chips and an ice cold Coke.
Yeah baby!
“Maybe a Lettuce Sandwich?”
Don’t knock it. I have wild creasy greens that come out in late winter. I put a handful of them on buttered bread. Wonderful!. I do that with chickweed too.
...and leave off the tomato.
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