Fried Green Tomatoes. Either you love them, hate them or really don’t care (and your response probably has a lot do with you being a southerner, at least at heart). But you absolutely must love the movie! My daughter Tara and I watched it once again on Sunday. It’s the perfect movie for a lazy summer afternoon. It’s about non-perfect people and friendship. Who can’t relate to that? Okay, if you think you don’t have one friend in this world, I promise you that is not true. The world is full of people just waiting to be your friend. Maybe you’re shy. Well then take a class or volunteer, or start a blog for shy people. Maybe you’ve hurt people. Well then stop hurting people and ask for forgiveness (it’s never too late). Maybe you’ve been hurt. Well then cry, let go and move on.
Or. Maybe you’ve just been cranky and depressed. Well then remember Tawanda! (And just maybe you need to get you some hormones?) You don’t need to smash into any cars or knock down your bedroom walls. Just smash into life and knock down your I’m-scared walls.
If you’ve never had fried green tomatoes, here is Tara’s yummy recipe. She is like her mother and often struggles with being specific on quantities and measurements. Don’t ever be afraid to eye-ball it. Just be careful not to let it get out of hand like Idgie and Ruth did.
Tara’s Fried Green Tomatoes green tomatoes (unripe red tomatoes) flour (Tara recommends Kentucky Kernel Seasoned Flour) milk (can add egg if you like) salt & pepper (optional) vegetable oil (we like canola oil best) 1 to 20 friends, depending on the size of your living room 1 Fried Green Tomatoes movie a few paper towels (to drain tomatoes after frying) 1 box of Kleenex (to drain tears after crying) Slice tomatoes to whatever thickness you like. Dip each slice into a bowl of flour, then milk, then flour again. Heat approximately 1/2 inch of oil in skillet and fry tomatoes, turning once when nice and golden. Drain on paper towels. Note: When frying anything, do not crowd the skillet. You’ll get much better results by making just a few at a time.
and here’s my recipe:
Recipe for a Lazy Gardner
I went to my garden today, looking for my supper. It had been a hard season and I have been neglectful so I didn’t even bring a basket. Besides, weeds and mosquitoes would be waiting– stealing the show, my energy and my time. I found a few surprises, as we often do in life and in gardens. My tomatoes, even forgotten, grew. Beefsteaks–big-shouldered and sweet. Lovely heirlooms–classy and dependable. And Roma’s, those saucy little mamas! I smiled, until I saw the busted ones. No excuses. Only regrets. Move on to what I was really looking for. The sassy young ones without spots or bruises, still smug with secrets of life. Long ago, somebody was brave or hungry or crazy enough to throw them in a skillet and call those tarties’ bluffs! I went back for my basket, thinking of oozy goodness all melty under a salty crust you can only get from frying after milk and seasoned dust. I’ll get better at tending my garden. I’ll consider it a social routine, because tomatoes grow like friendships, and some kinds just best fried green. –poetgranny
August 5, 2010 at 8:31 am
I love it, Judy. I just wish there were a way to send a message to my blackberry whenever you update! I’m worried I’ll miss something! Also, absolutely LOVE the poem. You have got so many great talents!!!! Mostly, I just love you, big sis!
August 4, 2010 at 8:46 am
Wow, Judy!…Yep, what a great friendship movie is “Fried Green Tomatoes” (& read the book if you haven’t, by the wonderful Fannie Flagg)…
And truly–is there any better comfort food than fried green tomaoes! (notice–I didn’t use a question mark, b/c there’s no question to it–it is the best!)
…Memories of Momma making big iron skillets full of green tomatoes, okra, & yellow squash (all cut bite -sized & mixed in a huge bowl with eggs, flour, corn meal) & fried in bacon grease in a covered skillet, turning often…I’m sure it was easier that way than having to tend individual slices for us zillion kids…Served with platters of juicy red tomatoes, corn on the cob, & cucumbers & onions in cidar vinegar…yummmmm!
When our dear Anne was on her deathbed, I fried her about a dozen huge green tomatoes, and Cathy & I took them to her (enough to share, but she told Cathy–“fried green tomatoes is one thing I don’t share!”)
I figure that Momma, Anne, Mary Evelyn–& all our other loved ones who’ve passed into Eternal Life– are at the banquet table– –reminicing over platters of fried green tomatoes.