My Tomato Thumb

I have never been accused of possessing a green thumb, (in fact my house has been known as a place where plants go to die), and all my previous efforts at growing tomatoes having resulted in a paltry, if tasty, harvest of a handful of hard-won fruits, I was totally unprepared for the bounty the five plants I set out this year would yield.

Either I have developed the proverbial tomato thumb or discovered the sweet spot for growing them, in a cleared out sliver of earth, (previously known to neighborhood cats as the biggest little outdoor litter box on the street), between the house and our neighbor's busy driveway. Most likely the latter, since I really didn't do anything except put them in the ground and provide a little fertilizer and lots of water. (And may I say they must thrive on car exhaust.)

Not expecting much, I chose hardy varieties, mixing hybrid and heritage vines, and hoped for the best. I got better. The Green Zebra was the most prolific, followed closely by Early Girl and then Better Boy, but the prize for size (and flavor) has to go the venerable Brandywine, and the medal for sheer beauty to the golden, inexplicably named, Kellogg's Breakfast tomato, which, really can be eaten any time, just so you know. (My thanks to friends George and Cindy Martin at The Tasteful Garden for the links to tomato photos and commentary. Check them out, they're the best.)

For the past few weeks I've been rolling in the glories of too many tomatoes. I've made quantities of tomato sauces and stowed them in the freezer. I've shared tomatoes with family and friends. I've served tomatoes in every imaginable fashion, and searched for new ways to prepare them, making some delicious discoveries along the way. However, one of my favorites remains that tried and true, often overstated but never over-rated, delicacy -- fried green tomatoes.

Like many iconic southern dishes there are probably as many ways of frying green tomatoes as there are cooks who fry them. Some swear by a cornmeal crust, others insist only flour will do. Some use vegetable shortening for frying, others prefer peanut oil, canola oil or even pure bacon grease. I've taken a little of all the best and come up with my own formula. I think a mixture of flour and cornmeal makes the crunchiest crust and a little bacon grease, for flavor, mixed with peanut oil is tops for the frying. I call them Fried Green Tomatoes A La Annie, and they're really, really good.

May we all always have too many tomatoes.


FRIED GREEN TOMATOES A LA ANNIE

5 medium green tomatoes
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup white or yellow cornmeal
2 teaspoons salt
1 1/2 teaspoons black pepper
1 cup milk
2 eggs
6 bacon strips
Peanut oil for frying

Cut tomatoes into 1/4-inch-thick slices.

Beat eggs with milk in a shallow bowl.

Combine flour, cornmeal, salt and pepper in another shallow bowl.

Dip tomato slices in the egg mixture, then dredge them in the flour/cornmeal mixture. Dip again, dredge again. Place slices on a baking sheet and chill for a few minutes while you fry the bacon.

Fry the bacon in a large cast iron or other heavy skillet. Remove bacon and set aside to drain.

Add enough peanut oil to the bacon grease to make about 2-inches depth. (Deep enough to cover tomato slices.) Heat on medium high to about 360 degrees, or until fat sputters when flicked with cornmeal. Fry tomatoes in batches, turning once, until golden brown on both sides (about 1 to 2 minutes per side). Drain on paper towels. Serve immediately.

Never one to waste good bacon, I crumble the reserved bacon strips over the top!