Any Way You Slice It

                 "It's difficult to think anything but pleasant thoughts while eating a homegrown tomato."- Lewis Grizzard

"Hand it over," I say, tapping my foot in nervous anticipation over and over again on the asphalt in the back parking lot. It could all go wrong at any moment, I think to myself, glancing back over my shoulder.

"Hold your horses, already," my friend Alicia whispers. "If I get caught I'll be in big trouble, you know. I'm supposed to be in there working." She nods to the heavy, metal door behind her.

"Whatever," I tell her, holding out my hands. I can see what it is I'm after poking through the reused white Winn Dixie plastic shopping bag with black lettering. Time is of the essence.

She finally gives it up. I snatch the bag before she decides to keep it for herself. I open my car door and make a hasty retreat.  Not before gently laying my precious cargo on the seat beside me, wondering if I should've turned on the passenger airbag and cranked up the AC.

As soon as I get home, I take the steps two at a time, unlock the front door, slap some peppered bacon in the oven, wash my iceberg, and pull out the hefty two gallon jar of Hellman’s from the fridge. After placing two slices of white bread on a plate, there's nothing left to do but open my bag.

There they are in all their God given, delicious glory -- straight from Alicia's mother-in-law, Amanda's family farm in Hortense -- eight of the most perfect homegrown tomatoes I'd ever seen.

I grab my serrated knife, thank God for His bounty (not to mention the paper towel kind I was about to need to sop up all the juicy goodness), and start slicing.

I just love summer, especially during the month of June in Georgia. What's not to love? Fresh peaches, tomatoes, squash, okra, onions, corn . . . It's a smorgasbord for your taste buds and a bright and beautiful mosaic to your eyes as well. As with Monet and his gardens in Giverny, Southerners are equally inspired by the summer fruits and vegetables that spring forth from every field, farm stand, and family gathering across our region for miles and miles, or wherever our roots call us back to.

See, there are a multitude of definitions for the word "root" in the dictionary, but, for me at least, there are only two that I associate with growing up in Georgia. The first is the part of a plant that grows downward in the soil and the second is the source from where all things come. To Southerners, the two meanings couldn't be more intertwined.

We are to our roots like homegrown tomatoes are to the vine. Connected, nourished, and strengthened through the generations before us. Any way you slice it, it doesn't get any better than that.

Now, I would love to share with y'all a favorite recipe passed down through my Mom that will always remind me of my love for the South, in all its summer glory:

                  
                  AnnieMa's Fried Okra with Green Tomatoes and Onion

2-3 small green tomatoes (For those not in the know, this is a tomato pulled straight from the vine before it fully ripens into all its red, yummy juiciness. This is in no way a bad thing, but something equally as delicious. This means you get a firmer tomato that is perfect for frying and tastes sweeter.)
1 1/2 pounds small okra pods (If this is your first time handling an okra pod, don't fret if it feels as slimy as an old toad fresh out of a backyard pond when you cut into it. This is actually quite desirable seeing as (unlike putting on your swimsuit for the first time after a frosty winter) you need something extra to make it stick -- to the cornmeal coating, that is.)
1/2 white onion
1 egg
White cornmeal
All purpose flour
LOTS of salt and pepper (This comes from a woman who salts her limes before she bites into them and eats hot peppers straight from the jar without something to drink. To NOT season, my mom might say, is for sissies.)
Vegetable oil for frying

Here's how it goes:
Cut okra into horizontal slices. Cut tomatoes and onion into pieces comparable in size to okra slices. Use paper towel to absorb liquid from tomatoes. Mix okra, tomatoes, and onion in bowl; sprinkle with salt and pepper. Beat egg well with fork and stir into tomato mixture and coat well. Add equal parts flour and meal in a plastic bag. Add more salt and pepper (See what I’m talking about!) Add okra mixture and shake to coat well. Add to hot oil in skillet and fry until golden brown. Drain on paper towel and serve while piping hot.

As with all properly trained Southern cooks, i.e. trained from their mother’s apron strings as soon as they could walk, talk and hold on tightly, my mom never measures anything. She knows it by heart. Trust me, it will taste like it came straight from her heart as well, served to you with a whole lotta love! Enjoy!

Writers note:
Many, many thanks to Amanda Moore who always thinks of me when she brings back her gorgeous tomatoes and squash from her family farm. I can't wait to take the girls there one year to go pickin’! Also, thanks to Patty and Kent Capper, owners of the very posh Joseph Jewelers and the coolest bosses in town. Thanks for letting Alicia help me create and then write about some of the funniest adventures ever. Love you guys! Last but not least, thanks to my Mom who has taught me what is means to embrace, own, and pass on my Southern roots. I love you!