Tomato Season

The 4th of July is not only the celebration of the Declaration of Independence but is the unofficial start to "Tomato Days" in the South. A few smart alecks have tomatoes earlier -- once, I picked my first ripe tomato on the 14th of June -- but, by rights, the 4th ushers in the splendid season. Most of the tomato vines will play out around Labor Day.

Several years ago, the Bible of all things Southern, Southern Living, ran an article on the tomato sandwich, a staple of cultured living down here. Tomato sandwiches are right up there with banana sandwiches, mustard potato salad, and Vienna sausages in terms of of popularity and taste appeal. All of the suggested ways of constructing a tomato sandwich provided by Southern Living sounded delicious. But, most complicated the tar out of the simple sandwich; most, in fact, took the focus off the tomato and put it on some exotic component that added little in the way of regional flavor.

Here is my favorite tomato sandwich. The right ingredients are essential. No substitutions allowed.

I prefer sturdy bread. The best I found is Sara Lee's Whole Wheat. It is the kind that has wheat straw stuck to it as if someone dropped it on the floor of the bakery and invoked the five second rule. Some prefer to toast the bread. I most certainly do not.

Slather both pices of bread with generous helpings of Hellman's Real Mayonnaise. Sure sign of a Yaknee trying to pass is Miracle Whip. No self-respecting tomato grower in Albama -- and that is damn near all of us here -- would permit the use of Miracle Whip on a genuine tomato sandwich. In fact, I think there are counties in Alabama where Miracle Whip is prohibited. If that is not factual, it ought to be. Besides, who the hell knows what is in Miracle Whip? It could be some French culinary experiment gone horribly wrong and callously passed along to unsuspected Americans as a chic sandwich condiment. Boy, the French and Miracle Whip burn me up!

Select a juicy, red, fresh-picked, vine-ripended tomato. Some folks like those whopping Beef Steak tomatoes. I think they are pretentious. One slice will cover the entire piece of bread. No, I prefer medium sized tomatoes (recommended varieties include JetStar, Arkansas Traveler, Atkinson, or Bonnie Select). Take one medium sized tomato and cut it horizontally to produce four meaty slices, excluding the top and bottom. Discard the top and bottom as they will detract from the consistency and taste of the slices selected to make the sandwich. Arrange the four slices on the previously greased bread.

Now, it is time for the seasoning. Salt to taste. Pepper with abandon. It is practically impossible to put too much pepper on a tomato sandwich. A peppermill is the best but liberal amounts from a standard shaker will work fine. Next, crumple up a couple of tablestones of feta cheese. As a topper, add several basil leaves. Covers with the second slice of bread. Do not cut nto halves.

Eat quickly, holding the sandwich with both hands. As an aid in cleaning up, place a dish, wash rag, or several paper towels beneath the sandwich. I like to a side of potato chips and enjoy a big glass of real (meaning, sweet) iced tea.

Upon completion, wash hands, face, and arms since a well-made tomato sandwich will leave its love dripping on you. Next, fix another one. They just get better.