We were in the gate area at Atlanta airport a few weeks ago, waiting for our flight to begin boarding when my phone rang.
It was my friend Laeman Butcher. “I’ve been trying to track you down for a few days,” he said. “Are you busy this afternoon?”
“Well, we’re about to get on an airplane to San Francisco,” I said.
I’VE GOT SOME TOMATOES I’ve been carrying around for you,” he said. “I’ll have some when you get back.”
I gave fleeting consideration to going home. We’d had only a few really good tomatoes so far this year.
Laeman didn’t have time for gardening during his working career, and he has made up for lost time with enthusiasm, and his garden responds to his loving touch.
He was as good as his word, and after we got home he presented me with a box of ripe, red, juicy tomatoes, only hours off the vine.
“I know what I’m going to have for lunch,” I told him.
Another friend’s civic club sells Vidalia onions as a fundraiser each spring, and I already had my bag. We already had bread, mayonnaise, and American cheese slides. All of the ingredients for one of the true treats of a southern summer lunch were on hand.
THERE IS SOME RITUAL to building the perfect tomato and onion sandwich. Mayonnaise is slathered on a piece of bread. Then comes a slice of American cheese (it helps keep the bread from getting too soggy), a healthy slide of tomato, topped with a little salt and pepper, a good slice of onion, topped with another slice of cheese and a piece of bread, also with mayonnaise.
That, along with an icy glass of tea, sweet tea, of course, is food for the gods.
After that, and perhaps another half sandwich, dessert is a nap on the couch with the breeze from the ceiling fan just tickling your cheek.
Some folks, I know, are willing the summer to hurry along, dreaming of the beginning of football season.
Me, I’m already mourning the coming end of tomato season.
Bill Brown can be reached at bill@williamblakebrown.com
