Thanks to the community church garden, I turned Casa d'Akre into the Whistle Stop Cafe tonight. Don't worry, I'm just referring to the fried green tomatoes. Neil is alive and well; no ribs served tonight!
So, as I told you last time, I visited the garden and plucked some perfectly beautiful green tomatoes. It's funny, growing up Southern, as I have, I never heard of fried green tomatoes until Fannie Flagg's book was made into a movie. Frankly, finding out that one of the '70's Match Game regulars was an author was the first revelation. Fried green tomatoes was the other. In fact, when I was about 4, my first major transgression in life was when I ran inside to get mommy & daddy to take them out to see my giant pile of "green balls" -AKA- my dad's immature tomato crop.
Back before the great fire, the original Rockaway's had someone in the kitchen that was the fried green tomato master. After seeing the movie, I started ordering these babies. Come to think of it, this was even before my raw, red tomato epiphany. I still miss those fried greens. Whoever you were, I miss you, tomato frying chef master.
Tonight was a simple, yet simply wonderful, dinner of grilled ham, green beans and fried green tomatoes. It's been awhile since I've made them, but Neil and I agreed this was one pretty darn good batch!
Take advantage of all the great produce that our ridiculously hot summers create. Channel your inner Idgie but I wouldn't recommend sticking your bare hands into a honey hole. Ain't nobody that lucky!
So, as I told you last time, I visited the garden and plucked some perfectly beautiful green tomatoes. It's funny, growing up Southern, as I have, I never heard of fried green tomatoes until Fannie Flagg's book was made into a movie. Frankly, finding out that one of the '70's Match Game regulars was an author was the first revelation. Fried green tomatoes was the other. In fact, when I was about 4, my first major transgression in life was when I ran inside to get mommy & daddy to take them out to see my giant pile of "green balls" -AKA- my dad's immature tomato crop.
Back before the great fire, the original Rockaway's had someone in the kitchen that was the fried green tomato master. After seeing the movie, I started ordering these babies. Come to think of it, this was even before my raw, red tomato epiphany. I still miss those fried greens. Whoever you were, I miss you, tomato frying chef master.
Tonight was a simple, yet simply wonderful, dinner of grilled ham, green beans and fried green tomatoes. It's been awhile since I've made them, but Neil and I agreed this was one pretty darn good batch!
Take advantage of all the great produce that our ridiculously hot summers create. Channel your inner Idgie but I wouldn't recommend sticking your bare hands into a honey hole. Ain't nobody that lucky!
