Fried Green Tomatoes

They’re not my favorite vegetable, but when you have three large trays full of green tomatoes, picked in fear of a frost, and it’s the end of the season, and you hate to waste the food you’ve so carefully grown, you consider them a blessing. I posted a note about the green veggies on Facebook and one coworker offered to take some off my hands – once I took some to her, a couple others wanted some too. Then I really went to town on the vines, pulling them down off the fence to discard for the winter, and found another large bowl full. So I pretty much still have three trays of green tomatoes even though I made my brother take some too.

My hope is that many of them will ripen, and that the coworkers might want a few more (bags). The rest will likely end up in the compost pile. It’s been a good year for tomatoes I guess – my six plants grew well over my head – I needed to use a step ladder to tie them up to the fence and then reversed the process when I cleaned things up on Saturday. I wish I could remember what variety they were as they were so productive – somehow in my gardening efforts of spring I failed to either hang onto the tag or record the genus and species!

I have some strong memories of helping Mom can tomatoes grown in the backyard on Standart Avenue. Apparently, there used to be chickens back there, and the garden was quite productive. I was frequently sentenced, or so it seemed at the time, to weed a row or two of green beans. One of my all time favorite vegetables, I remember taking the colander out to pick the beans, or cut Swiss Chard for dinner. At the end of summer, the extra tomatoes lined the glassed in back porch, ripening on the windowsills. We dipped the tomatoes into hot water and then plunged them into cold water to get the skins to loosen – we felt really fortunate to have a garbage disposal, as that made the slippery, messy job of cleaning up so much easier.  There's nothing more satisfying than hearing the jar lids seal after boiling them in the canner.

My Dad read my Facebook posting (I still find it hard to believe he friended me - but he’s always been a somewhat early adopter of all things technological) and responded with the following about green tomatoes:

As a child; Don’t you remember having fried green ‘maters at home?

Dipped in egg, flour, salt and pepper, fried in hot grease until golden brown – favorite of your Grandfather Peck and mine.

On Grant Ave; We had some how gotten a whole bunch of green tomatoes at the end of the season. We wrapped individual tomatoes in newspaper and put them up in the attic and they ripened…. Didn’t taste like fresh but we enjoyed for quite a long time.

I imagine the tomatoes ripening in the attic on Grant Ave. were a great blessing to my folks at the time. We had only recently moved here and they were on a strict enough budget that we didn’t have a telephone, relying on the pay phone down at the corner, or the landlord’s phone for important incoming calls. Our family lived on a policy of “Eat what’s on your plate,” and Dad was known to say, more than a few times, “It’s not what you like in this world that makes you fat, it’s what you get.” A pragmatic approach to food and life.

Guess I’ll go fry some more green tomatoes - yesterday's blessing, and tomorrow's and the next day's!

99 cent jeans

Yesterday’s blessing was thrift store shopping. I was drawn out by a 50% off sale at Thrifty Shopper, operated by the Rescue Mission. By the time I got there (they opened at 8 am for this special sale and weren’t going to close until 10 pm!) it was mobbed. I’ve never seen so many people at once. They had two cash registers going and a line for both. The lady ahead of me only paid $26 and some change for a huge pile of clothing, and the woman beside me had already been to the Baldwinsville store, which was having a similar sale. I found Jane Eyre (on my list of Books I Should Read) and a brand new flannel bathrobe that ended up costing $3.50. I’m tickled by the robe as the one I’m wearing is ragged beyond description – it too came from the thrift store and now will have a second second life as dust cloths. I’ve been searching for a robe for a while and today my patience paid off. Just last week I had one (for $35) in my hand at the LL Bean outlet store, but I put it back. I'll have to hem the sleeves, but that's a small price to pay.

Before heading home I made the rounds of the other two thrift stores, scoring a cookbook of New Orleans food at the Salvation Army, and my deal of the day, 99 cent jeans at Volunteers of America. Every week they pull clothing with a certain color tag and discount them to 99 cents.  Usually you can understand why those items haven't sold - they're weird colors, old styles, and so forth, but today was my day - the jeans fit perfectly - even the length is right.  A satisfied shopper, I turned the car for home and lunch, smiling about my 99 cent jeans.

Our Daily Bread

Thursday’s blessing was receiving Paul’s paycheck and a commission check. Our cash flow has been a little stressed lately – school taxes paid the end of September, a car repair I forgot I had put on the credit card until the bill arrived, and an upcoming bill for car and house insurance, in addition to the usual bills. For quite a few years, the phrase from the Lord’s Prayer, “Give us this day our daily bread,” has been especially meaningful to me, with the emphasis on ‘THIS day.’ God has give our family all the material things we need and much of what we want. We’ve sent our kids to private high school and college, endured times of unemployment, and through those financially challenging times, God’s been faithful to provide for us. Now things are a bit better, though we once again are helping a child in college and are more seriously preparing for retirement. God’s timing is always perfect – Paul’s checks came on Thursday, it was pay day for me, and I’ve mailed the various payments. The checkbook’s a little flat ‘til next week, but once again God has blessed us with the bread needed for this day, plus a little extra.