Growing up, when we didn't grow our own, we'd buy fresh tomatoes each night from the old Italian woman across the street. She had a small garden and vegetable stand and my father would send me over each night to buy about 1 pound -- freshly picked, right off the vine. They'd be gone between dinner and the next morning when he'd make himself tomato sandwiches for breakfast that he'd eat over the sink! Now, these were very special tomato sandwiches, because they were made on "Daddy Toast," a term my sister and I gave to what had heretofore in my father's family been called "toast in the pan." This was the equivalent of a grilled cheese sandwich without the cheese, toasted on both sides of the bread, top crust cut off, and grilled in a cast iron skillet which was NEVER cleaned and thus kept seasoned. Certainly, not healthy by today's low-fat standards!!
My mother thought it was awful stuff; my sister and I LOVED them!! He'd get the cast iron skillet going just at the right heat and put his bread in butter side down and while it cooked, he'd butter the top side and then flip them. With fresh tomatoes, salt and pepper, mmm, mmmm, nothing could be finer!!! By mid-October, we'd all be in serious tomato withdrawal!
The post title is taken from a song by Guy Clark -- I first heard it in a cowboy bar just outside of Boulder, Colorado. At the time, it made me wish my Dad was still alive -- he would have loved this song! I tried to upload it, but I'm missing a step somewhere . . . . so here's the url:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1-QzLIjL1u4.
My Dad would have been 98 today -- so Happy Birthday, Dad! Hope Heaven has been bringing you lots of homegrown tomatoes!
Gini
