August gets a pretty bad rap if you think about it. At least in the Southern states, August is one of the hottest months of the year. It gets called the "dog days of summer" and it's not meant as a compliment. Some days the weather is too hot to enjoy our front porches and many of us just don't want to go outside at all. Plus, it's about time for school to start and the kids are antsier than ever.
But August has its good qualities and, really, it deserves better from us. While Fall may be a reward for a Southerner for surviving summer, I’m not crazy about summer ending. I never am. I love summer, even the hot days. I find it easier to cool off in the summer than to warm up in the winter. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big fan of living where there are four distinct seasons and there are many things I love about each season, but summer? Summer is my favorite.
By the end of the season, all Southerners share more in common than the heat. We’ve developed radar hearing for the sound of the ice cream truck, burned the back of our legs on a scorching car seat, consumed gallons of cold water straight from the garden hose, left a candy bar in the car only to discover it’s become chocolate syrup, caught lightning bugs in a mason jar, wished for a funeral fan to ease the heat, or deeply prayed for a strong breeze, and eaten our weight in handpicked fresh fruits and vegetables, and none is more cherished in the South than the tomato. Whether they be red, yellow, or green, when the vines are ripe and the juices are flowing, we start salivating at the thought of the first bite of the season.
We eat them straight off the vines, in chunks with a little coarse salt, and probably two dozen other ways. But hands-down, the best use of tomatoes goes to, you guessed it, the staple of the south, the tomato sandwich (insert a choir of heavenly angels). Tomato sandwiches are marvels of the simplistic. Preferably slathered with Duke’s mayonnaise and sandwich between two pieces of soft Sunbeam bread. The only thing that can fire a Southern up more than the heat (and here’s where the fist-fighting comes in), is the mayonnaise. There is only one. And while we love a good BLT, don’t even think about adding lettuce or bacon during the months of June, July, or August. Summer is strictly about the tomato.
We are fortunate to grow a dozen or so varieties in almost every size, shape, and color. We have enjoyed them in starring roles in three-plus months of recipes. Tomato pies tossed last-minute into hot oil with garlic, made Caprice salads with fresh mozzarella, basil, and a little balsamic. We even manage to can a couple of dozen quarts for later, not sure when “later” is, as we popped the top off a jar just last week.
But alas, all good things must come to an end…there is a season for everything and nothing lasts forever…blah, blah, blah. All I know is I haven’t even had my last bite of this year, and I’m already dreaming of my first taste of the next crop. Some summer romances are meant to last forever.
Recipe from Marzia Aziz at The Little Spice Jar Blushing Tomato Crab Bisque.
