the one where i almost become southern

friends, i made my own fried green tomatoes.

with green tomatoes from my.  very.  own.  garden.

aren't they just gorgeousness tomatofied?

i've been in love with the fried green tomato since i first tasted them in 2003.  plus i really liked the movie, especially the part where kathy bates rams those bitches' car.  i find it amusing that i've pretty much been more comfortable with the thought of ramming some bitch's car than frying up some maters.  you see, i'm not the best fryer in the world (very unsouthern) and green tomatoes seemed hard to come by. 

turns out it's more messy than complicated:  the whole "breading station" thing...yeah.

station one:  i mixed sea salt, black pepper and cayenne pepper with organic unbleached flour.

station two:  two eggs, wisked.

station three:  i annihilated ritz crackers in the food processor instead of using bread crumbs.  the ritz crackers were the last of the derecho disaster food stash (good riddance to that).  i believe a good southern girl would have used cornmeal.

i tried to be healthy by using coconut oil (rookie california move); to counter the ritz crackers, which are pretty much the most unhealthy thing on the planet.

um, i didn't see the thing about "medium heat" until i was processing the photos.  see what i mean about not being the best fryer?

 

but i guess it was okay, the stove didn't burst into flames or anything.  next time i'll use canola.

here's the deets:

• heat about 1/4 inch oil in a pan on medium high
• wash and slice firm green unripe tomatoes (not ripe green heirlooms)
• one at a time, dredge tomato slices in flour and shake off excess
• then dip in beaten eggs
• then dip in the ritz crumbs (or bread crumbs if you don't have a derecho disaster food stash or cornmeal if you are southern)
• carefully place in the oil
• repeat with next slice
• i cooked four at a time
• watch them carefully, they cook fast, usually one to two minutes per side
• drain and cool on a wire rack with paper towels beneath

et voilà:

they were perfect!  the thin cracker coating was super crispy (i take it all back ritz) and the tart green tomato bite tasted just like summer.

unsouthern move number two hundred and four:  no sauce.  i like them naked.

(although i did have them in a cafe once with a cucumber dill sauce that i enjoyed.) 

after a few bites, i thought they would be awesome in a sandwich.  here is where i blew any chance of being southern...i put them between sourdough toasts with some arugula, goat cheese and avocado and a splash of balsamic.

the california fried green tomato sandwich.  dude.

the one where i am a total dork

so we arrived late to the reading and stood in the back of the crowd. ms. lamott read from the podium to a mature, somewhat sedate audience. i had to resist the impulse to shout out, "hi anne!!!", waving enthusiastically like a preschooler greeting a friend on the playground. instead i graciously acclimated to the quiet studied dignity of the group.

i am here to report that her spoken words are just as powerful as the written: several times my heart swelled and tears glazed my eyes in recognition, in connection. my soul was saying yes, me too, thank you. on repeat.

after the reading and several very thoughtful questions from my new mature sedate studied friends (note to self: next time try to think of a question beforehand so you are not just grinning and nodding like a crazy person at the back of the room), we waited in line for a brief moment of face time. my brain went in overdrive formulating the perfect words to say to her to express my gratitude. i figured i had about ten seconds to get it out, this indebtedness i carry around because she made the choice again and again and again to write down her wildly flawed and spectacular life experiences and thoughts.

as i got closer to the front, camera ready and lines memorized, i watched her interact with people. she was warm and genuine as one can be meeting and connecting with a hundred people in under an hour. to me, she is authenticity personified.

when my turn came, my perfect lines deserted me like the false friends they tend to be. all i could do was grin an utterly thrilled, uncontainable chipmunk-cheeked, eye-crinkling smile. she told me she liked my sweater and that i looked like a cousin of hers. all i had was this: thank you.

then again, emphatically, thank you.