Postcard: Fresh from the garden by Jennifer Hill

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Postcard: Fresh from the garden

by Jennifer Hill | 6, Add your Comment | Jun 26, 2009

organic_tomatoes Yesterday, I noticed one of the tomatoes I’ve been watching for weeks, finally turned red. In a few days I’ll be able to eat a salad made with ingredients all grown in my backyard garden, an accomplishment that thrills me and would fall into the “duh” category for my grandmother. Oh well, that ‘s progress for you.

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Jennifer Hill

Jennifer Hill is the communications director at a private school in Atlanta. She is a former editor and reporter for The Atlanta Journal and Constition, where she worked in business news and features. She and her two sons live in Avondale Estates, Georgia.

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Tom Baxter

I picked my first one yesterday.
My mother and father were great rivals in the tomato-growing department. She bet him once she could grow tomatoes from the crook of the pecan tree in the backyard, and sure enough she did. This was decades before those upside-down planters — I can still remember those tomatoes hanging down the side of the tree.
Tim Oliver

It was 1967, or so, I was mowing a neighbor’s yard in the blistering heat of a July summer day. I kept one eye on a fence post, and the other on the mat of St. Augustine, festooned with discarded toys and piles of German Shepherd manure. The fence post soon sprouted a large, sweating glass of iced tea, and I decimated a whole platoon of green plastic Army soldiers. My younger brother, Kerry, sat underneath a nearby pine tree, glowering at me, waiting for use of the mower, to earn his own money. I shut off the mower, quaffed tea, expecting some smartass quip from Kerry, like, ‘Reckon we’ll live long enough for you to get this yard done?”, but, instead it was, “Momma bought some round bread.” Huh ? Round bread? I had to see this for myself, so, I finished the yard, and headed home. My Dad came home from work, for lunch, and stood over the sink, eating a fresh-picked tomato sandwich. It was on that perfectly round white bread , liberally sprinkled with salt and pepper, and loaded with Blue Plate mayonaise. It dripped from his hands, and bled down the sides of the white porcelin sink. Momma joined him as I slathered extra-sharp pimento cheese on that round bread, and didn’t understand their, obvious, rapture at eating tomato sandwiches, grown by their own sweat. I couldn’t savor that acidic, sweet, sun-filled taste, in a sandwich too messy to eat at the table. I sure am glad I ,finally, grew up.
http://www.unoakedchardonnay.com Meg Gerrish

Tom Baxter, that is the most brilliant thing I’ve heard in weeks. Or days. Maybe hours, I’m not sure, but I surely LOVE the idea of growing tomatoes in the crook of a tree. Especially in South Florida where the bugs thrive year-long and the summer sun is NOT tomato garden friendly. The mere possibility that we could plant tomatoes in a naturally sun-dappled space, MAYBE out of the way of the usual tomato predators just delights the imagination. We’re going to try it! Fingers crossed against hurricanes.
Terri Evans

Meg, Tom, Tim, Jennifer — Ok, all you tomato lovers-please see the recipe for Tomato Cobbler in my “Love Apples” Dew piece (please also pardon the self promotion, but it is for the love of the tomato and how much this cobbler resembles a tomato sandwich).
Jennifer Hill

Terri,

Is the tomato cobbler we had the other night? If so, I’m on it like a duck on a June Bug. That dish was smokin’!
Terri Evans

It was indeed. Some people like to put basil in it, but I pass as I really want to taste the maters.

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