Tomato Sandwich

The heat of the August sunshine creates a hothouse in our back yard. Stakes and twine hold down flourishing tomato plants like Lilliputians restraining Gulliver. With the increasing weight of their fruit, it’s only a matter of time before they lose patience with the wimbly harnesses and break free.

After a long summer of preparing the garden, planting the seeds and nurturing them indoors, transferring the plants to the garden, keeping them watered and protected, and staking and tying them to support their growth, the time comes for harvest.

Late in the morning, we trek out to the garden with baskets in hand, boots on feet, hats on head and smiles in our hearts. The heavy ripe red globes fall easily into our hands as if they were wishing to be plucked free by loving souls. We place them gently into our baskets. Careful not to bruise their delicate flesh and skins. These are not store bought tomatoes and aren’t intended to travel far. These are gentile jewels meant to be consumed soon after picking.

Once we’ve retrieved the best of the best, we head back inside to prepare our feast.

Heavy, flavorful, crusty homemade bread. Homemade mayonaise. Fresh tomatoes sliced thickly. Salt and pepper. The end.

Perfection in a sandwich. Biting into this masterpiece, I first taste the sweet firmness of the bread balanced by the crisp chewiness of the crust. And then the luxurious smoothness of the mayonnaise and then the slightly acidic sweetness of the tomato with its firm but succulent flesh and the flow of balmy juice followed by the tingle of pepper on my lips and the saltiness at the tip of my tongue. My mouth waters as I take bite after bite of this perfection and once it’s finished, the day is done.

I sit back in an easy chair on the porch. I face the setting sun and contemplate just how wonderful life is and what a blessing it is to harvest a summer’s work because don’t we do things in the past so we can enjoy them in the present?

All the while, I never forget that this tomato sandwich could very well have been my last.

Artwork by Betsy Barry.