You Say Tomato, I Say Sangwich

Good morning, cockatiels! Do you know what week it is?

It's the best week of the year: TOMATO WEEK!!!!

No, I have no idea if Tomato Week is a real thing, or if it's something the Washington Post is making up out of its own ass. But you know what? They're using it as an excuse to talk about Hanover tomatoes, so it works for me either way.

I first had a Hanover tomato last summer, and something immediately clicked. I've always loved tomatoes -- I have been known to eat them as a hand fruit -- and I think this is because I was introduced to good ones early. My great-grandfather grew the best tomatoes in the history of the world, ever, and though I only had them a few times when I was quite young, they left an indelible impression.

You think I'm joking about his tomatoes, right? Wrong. They were the best ever. I don't know if it was the soil in Southeast Missouri or something he fed them with or his green thumb, but they were incredible. People in my family have been known to eat a mind-blowingly good tomato, and nod, and say "it's good. It's not one of Papaw's tomatoes, but it's good."

Hanover tomatoes -- the big fat red ones (Hanover being applied to any type of tomato from Hanover county, not a distinct breed of tomatoes) -- are not Papaw's tomatoes. But they are damn, damn good.

And I can't think it's a coincidence that when my father's ancestors first got to this country, they settled in what would later become Hanover County. They left after about a century, and then moved and kept moving every generation or three until they ended up in Southeast Missouri around the turn of the last century.

And there they stopped (for awhile). And I've decided that their whole trek across the country was not about younger sons looking for opportunity, as I've always thought. Clearly, we are a clan who -- for almost three hundred years -- moved Westward, ever Westward, in search of tomatoes as good as the ones we'd had in Hanover county.

(Please do not give me some sort of history lesson about how my initial ancestors thought tomatoes were from Satan or something. No sangwiches for pedants)

So to celebrate TOMATO WEEK, I thought I'd share with you my favorite tomato recipe -- for Hanover Tomato Sangwiches.

Yes, I know it's a skosh hypocritical of me to put Gwyneth on blast for including a BLT recipe in her cookbook, and then two weeks later turn around and give you a recipe for a sangwich with two fewer ingredients. But a) this is not a cookbook. It is the interwebs. It is free. You are not paying for it; and 2) I am not Gwyneth Paltrow. I do not suggest you follow my exercise regime (such as it is), health and beauty tips (such as they are), or shopping advice (unless you have a fondness for vintage and/or things that "fell off the truck" and found their way onto e-bay).

I do, however, insist that you follow my advice about this sandwich. Really, I ask so little. (Also, I planned this post and took the photographs for it a year ago, and am just now getting around to posting it. Hypocritical or not, I had to burn it off this week or hold onto it for another year).

So you will need one Hanover tomato, of the fat red variety. Cut this into thick slices and toast some bread.

The traditionalists will tell you you need spongey white bread. I prefer either a multigrain bread or a thick, crusty "country white" or wheat loaf. Something with a little bite to it; something that has the balls to become part of this sangwich.

You will also need mayonnaise. I believe I've mentioned this before, but if you're not using Duke's mayonnaise, you might as well just bury yourself now, because you're not really alive.

You put the mayonnaise on both sides of the bread. You salt and pepper the mayonnaise.

You put the tomato slices on one side of the bread. You salt and pepper the first layer of slices. If you're adding additional layers of slices, you salt and pepper those as well. It is very important to salt and pepper at every stage of layering.

I generally prefer two layers of tomatoes per sangwich.

You put the other slice of bread on top (obvi -- what, did you think you were meant to use it as a sun hat for your cat?).

And then you nom it, preferably with Cheerwine (preferably from the bottle, as the bottles have cane sugar instead of HFC, but I know it's hard enough to get Cheerwine in any form).

It seems simple, I know. It is simple, actually. And that's the thing about TOMATO WEEK and tomatoes generally. They don't need a lot of jazz or nonsense. They are pretty much perfect the way they are.