All Hail to the Tomato

How tomatoes might be what brings us all together

Photo by Mathieu LESNIAK on Unsplash

This is the season where Gwen and I eat a lot of tomatoes. We are known to have them for breakfast, lunch and dinner. They are our daily bread that we have anticipated in these hot days of summer.

It was my joy to find a bread that is half the calories; half the carbs and half the taste as well, but when stacked high with the dripping cuts of fresh tomatoes, who is thinking of carbs and calories?

Our question, long settled is which kind of mayonnaise. In the South, we have a cult which I am a proud member of: Duke’s Mayonnaise is the clear winner. The only aspect one considers is how much mayonnaise. It is in this answer that there is argument.

Gwen does not like as much mayonnaise as I do. I like mine dripping out on all four sides. Don’t judge me. The abundance of this is the key to soul satisfaction. Of this, I am sure.

In these days of late July, we place the harvest in the basket as a morning ritual as surely as we pray and read the Bible. It is a prayerful act to search for the red; to reach one’s hands into the green body of the plant and grasp its fruit. Then turn, ever so slightly to break the stem away and then stare at it—acknowledging the dignity and beauty. It’s a ritual. It’s way to treat the tomato with the dignity and respect that is owed.

In this day of turmoil and chaos, it is the simple things I keep turning to now. We sit on our front porch looking at our small raised garden beds. As we sip our first cup of coffee there, we wonder if the one we saw yesterday will be ready. “Maybe, today!” It’s all we say. We both know what we meant by that statement. Seriously, we all need simple things to assuage the storms brewing and nothing assuages my inner dissonance like a good tomato.

Where I have found resistance is in the bacon. My Christian faith helps me here. It is somewhat upsetting to consider Jesus, himself, never ate bacon.  In his day, it was forbidden to fry up the strips of bacon and enjoy them. I have taken comfort in the thought that he never knew it’s taste otherwise he would have eaten surely eaten it.

Take eating tomatoes a little more seriously. Have a tomato gala as our friends here host! Only baskets of tomatoes, heads of lettuce, trays of bacon and varieties of breads. That’s it. That’s the gala and it is a feast you will not soon forget—nor should you.

Maybe the tomatoes can bring us together again.

We are becoming more plant based than bacon based. It’s another shift in our lives and one that has taken some adjustment. We now are snobs about the lettuce we use. This year, we only are using Butter Lettuce. Bigger, fuller leaves and more nutrients motivated us to switch our denominations and lettuces preferences.

Just this, we traveled two hours to have a lunch with family. We wrestled with which restaurant to go together. But, as we passed a mountain stand selling fresh tomatoes, we texted our waiting family: “Let’s have tomato sandwiches at home.” Within seconds, everyone agreed. We all agreed on having tomatoes. It felt like Thanksgiving to share in such a feast—everyone loved the time. Everyone marveled at their own self made sandwich.

We did not all agree on which president to vote for over lunch. But with complete unanimity, we all agreed in the goodness of the tomato. Maybe, we are not agreeing on the basics of life anymore. What can we agree on?— important things we can all agree on these days. Instead we might be arguing about issues: wealth, taxes, justice and inflation. What if we started with what we might all agree on and then go forward from there.

On our paper money is printed the Latin phrase which means: “Out of many, one!” Yes, let’s start there.

I know. I know. Some do not like tomatoes. That feels un-American to me. Let me just say it.  But at our lunch, just leave the tomatoes off your sandwich and put something in it’s place. Yes to the peanut butter sandwich lathered with strawberry jam. Yes, to Spam if you must. But seriously? The tomato is not really what is important. It is the table. It is sitting together. Talking again. Sharing what we can. Being together.

What I’m saying is this: The table is what we are longing for—not what’s on our sandwich.

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Today, I just wanted to write something light…something different…but something true. This is what came out. I hope you enjoy and I hope it might make you smile and lift a cloud within you or around you. How we need such a lifting these days.

It was fun to work on this poem about the tomato and to use my imagination about what the importance is for me and perhaps for others as well. And oh, here’s a link to a Substack, about the Tomato Gala, I wrote last year which got some good feedback. Our friends are repeating their Tomato Gala in August and it’s on our calendar. We won’t miss that feast for sure.

My poems are for those who choose to support my work. You can do that by becoming what Substack calls a “paid subscriber.”

In doing that, you’re saying that you’re for me and for my efforts to say more in less words through the art of poetry. You may not like poetry. I know. I get it. I ignored it for years—until I couldn’t. I got so sick of so many words—so much arguument that I returned to poems as a way to both understand and to be understood.

If you can’t do the paid thing, tell me and I’ll add you. No questions asked.