Fried Green Tomatoes

There comes a time when even the most die hard tomato enthusiast has lost their craving for the luscious, red globes adorning the tomato vines in the garden.  When that time comes I sneak out into the garden in the quiet of the evening and pluck a few of the glorious, green, unripe globes for my own craving.  Fried Green Tomatoes.

For years they were a quiet, secret delicacy enjoyed by southern gardeners.  They were a dish dreamed up to use the abundance of tomatoes when the needs of canning and bacon and tomato sandwiches had been met.  Thrifty gardeners then applied their thoughts to other ways to serve up this garden staple.  It was inevitable--after all southerners will fry anything--that someone would try frying up these sour, unripe fruits (vegetables?).  Thus a Southern tradition was born.

The movie "Fried Green Tomatoes" unleashed this treat onto the world.  I doubt that many of the movie-goers had ever eaten or even dreamed of eating such a thing until they appeared on the menu of the depression era, now infamous, barbecue joint the Whistle Stop Cafe.  While the barbecue served at the cafe was questionable the fried green tomatoes became a fad for thousands of movie fans.  It wasn't long before you began seeing them pop up on upscale restaurant's menus, mostly under the appetizers.  Some of them are actually good, but mostly they try to get too fancy.  Fried green tomatoes are down home, simple cooking a its best.

I remember that my mother loved this treat.  She would rescue a perfectly, round green tomato before my dad could decree that it would be allowed to ripen into a perfect "sandwich" tomato.  She would then slice it into neat slices and dredge each slice in corn meal seasoned with salt and pepper.  The mealy slices would then be dropped into sizzling hot bacon grease.  A few minutes to brown on one side and then it would be flipped over to continue browning on the other side.  The resulting crispy, golden brown slices were then placed  on her plate to be enjoyed.  No dipping sauces, no spicy glaze, no additional seasonings--just delicate, slightly sour and delicious. 

Mother ate them as a vegetable for dinner.  My dad liked them with his breakfast, which consisted of fried bacon, fried eggs, fried potatoes, fried tomatoes, and toast with lots of butter. ( His cholesterol at 80 years old was somewhere in the 90's.  Good genes are better than healthy eating!)  No matter when you eat them they are a tasteful reminder of summer's waning and fall's imminence.

I just happen to have the perfect one in sight for supper tonight.