One fond memory of my childhood is eating tomato sandwiches.
I was the second oldest of seven children growing up on a small farm in Oregon's Willamette Valley. We didn't have much, but we usually ate well, thanks in part to raising our own meat, milk, and eggs, and growing a big vegetable garden.
August and September were time for home grown corn on the cob and tomatoes! We could make a whole meal out of those two garden treats.
Now, about those tomato sandwiches. They are not something we could take in our lunch as we worked in the fields in August, picking beans, or that we could take in our school lunch boxes in September. No, tomato sandwiches have to be eaten fresh, tomatoes thickly sliced, generously sprinkled with salt, between two slices of buttered soft white bread. Yum!
So these tomato treats were reserved for when we were at home, maybe a Saturday lunch is we had the day off, but especially for Sunday night supper. Our big meal on Sunday was after church in the early afternoon. Supper was light on cooking, a relief for our mother.
I was thinking about those sandwiches the other day as I passed by the baskets of tomatoes sitting on the counter.
See those big ones on the left? They are Caspian Pinks, vine ripened, and they were calling to me, "Put me in a sandwich!" Now I don't eat a lot of bread anymore, so I have resisted them until now, but the other day I gave in.
It's not quite the same as the good old days. I don't buy that soft white bread any more. But the fresh-out-of-the-freezer whole wheat worked pretty well. I just used those two big middle slices and gave the rest to Tom for his lunch.
I added a fresh pear from our little tree, and sat down to a great lunch. Mmmmmm, tomato sandwiches.
I'm back to eating my tomatoes with cottage cheese now, but I might have to indulge at least once more before tomato season is over.