Fried Green Tomatoes take the edge off waiting on those vines

What to do when the tomato vines are loaded with mouth-watering tomatoes but they’re all the color of St. Augustine grass? If God didn’t love Fried Green Tomatoes, he would have made the red ones first.

Waiting out the green-into-red ripening cycle, I grabbed the Fried Green Tomatoes recipe from my new Cooking on the Home Front cookbook that I mentioned having bought at the Pearl Harbor gift shop earlier this month. In WWII days victory gardens were the source of many meatless meals. Clearly a plate of Fried Green Tomatoes was a dinner-table staple then as homemakers everywhere (not just in the South, although this typically is thought to be a Southern dish) got creative with their produce.

I love these crispy fried slices of green, especially as they’re smeared in ketchup. I used whole-wheat bread crumbs (day-old bread whisked in a blender) for my first batch but switched to Panko (Japanese bread crumbs) for the second. That switch made them extra-crispy.

We couldn’t get enough of these; the next day, we dived into the leftovers and ate them cold straight out of the refrigerator. The tomatoes on our vines don’t seem to be in a big hurry to ripen, so I imagine plenty more Fried Green Tomatoes will be destined for our table.

Fried Green Tomatoes

6 large green tomatoes

1 tablespoon sugar (or sugar substitute)

1/2 teaspoon pepper

1 teaspoon salt (or salt substitute)

1 egg, well-beaten (or 1/4 cup egg substitute)

1/2 cup bread crumbs

Wash tomatoes; cut into 1/2-inch slices. Soak slices for 1 hour in cold salted water. Add sugar, pepper, and salt to the beaten egg. Dip each tomato slice in mixture and then in bread crumbs. In skillet fry on both sides in hot oil (I used extra-virgin olive oil) until tomatoes are brown. Makes 6 servings.

  

Fried Green Tomato Po’boys a Father’s Day hit

No meat-and-potatoes, he-man dinner for my guy’s Father’s Day meal. No sir; he wanted the exotic, er, unusual—typical fare for us since we started eating the garden-fresh way some time ago. So unusual he got, in the form of Fried Green Tomato Po’boys.

In my June 12 blog I raved about learning to prepare Fried Green Tomatoes—really prepare them, the expert way, thanks to Southern Living magazine and its effort to turn its readers into truly Southern cooks. I promised myself I would cook several of the recipe suggestions the magazine made to accompany its basic Fried Green Tomatoes how-to.

Among them the recipe for Fried Green Tomato Po’boys was most intriguing. It promised a New Orleans twist employing the batter-fried tomato, the recipe for which I included in my June 12 blog. It took a fresh baguette roll from the bakery, added a bed of spinach, then the green tomatoes straight from our vines, then bacon (I used turkey bacon), then avocado slices, and then a special Rémoulade Sauce. The crunchy baguettes stuffed with the creamy avocado and Rémoulade and the crisp green tomatoes and bacon made a wonderful crunchy-creamy-crisp trifecta.

I apologized to Hubby that we were out of ketchup (no ketchup for the fried green tomatoes? pity), but he said no problem at all: the wonderful Rémoulade Sauce was ample accompaniment.

However, no being out of green tomatoes—our garden is packed with them still and lots of bright-red ripe ones, too. I expect to try a couple more recipes from the Southern Living page, among then Fried Green Tomato-and-Bacon Biscuits and Green Tomato Garden Party Salad, before the blazing hot sun makes the final green tomatoes all ripen.

Fried Green Tomato Po’boys

Cut French-bread baguettes into 6-inch lengths. Split each lengthwise; cut to but not through the other side; spread with Rémoulade Sauce. Layer with shredded spinach leaves, fried green tomatoes, cooked bacon, and avocado slices. Makes 4 servings.

Rémoulade Sauce

1 cup fat-free mayonnaise

1/4 cup sliced green onions

2 tablespoons Creole mustard

1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley

1 tablespoon minced fresh garlic

1 teaspoon horseradish

Blend all ingredients; cover and chill until ready to serve. Makes 1 1/4 cups.

Love, love, love (did I say love?) these Fried Green Tomatoes

I feel sure I wasn’t the only reader whose heart leapt when recognizing that the new issue of Southern Living magazine featured a gazillion recipes for that Southern icon, fried green tomatoes.

Ever since the popular movie Fried Green Tomatoes debuted years ago, I believe the whole concept of frying green tomatoes—not waiting for their prime but picking them from the vine before they become bright red—and turning them into a major number of delicacies has captured the imaginations of many people.

My first cookbook, Way Back in the Country, features my cousin Yvonne’s recipe for a wonderful green-tomato relish that takes a bucketload of those green beauties and makes something worthwhile out of them.

Already being an appreciator, I was thrilled to see SL’s take on the definitive way to prepare Fried Green Tomatoes. (Kinda like finding the definitive recipe for Southern Fried Chicken—something that we all generally know how to do but appreciate expert coaching.) And since I have plenteous vines of green tomatoes right now, Hubby raced out to bring in a green handful so I could start to work.

Confession: I actually prepared these two nights in row but didn’t think the first batch was attractive enough to share with you. I’m not the best of beginners and typically do a much more commendable job of something the second-time around. Success! My remedial batch was golden to the core; the tomatoes cooked up much more tender.

Hubby and I could have eaten an entire skillet full; the healthy substitutions (instead of buttermilk, add 1 1/2 teaspoons vinegar to a measuring cup and continue filling with skim milk until the mixture measures 1/2 cup) made doing so a little less guilt-inducing, but we restrained ourselves. Ditto the egg substitute and the salt substitute for a healthier prep. We threw some salt-free ketchup on top of these crisp goodies and had ourselves a feast. Thought we were in heaven!

Next to try, I hope: Sweet Green Tomato Cornmeal Muffins and Fried Green Tomato Po'Boys, all at SL’s prompting. As readers you can hold me accountable and make sure I get around to them.

Lengthwise, not Crosswise: Speaking of holding me accountable, one Dear Reader questioned yesterday’s Sausage and Peach Breakfast Casserole instructions, in which I mentioned that before placing the sausages onto the casserole batter you are to halve them crosswise. The sausages with which I tested the recipe are links, so you halve them LENGTHWISE! Thanks for keeping me accurate!

Fried Green Tomatoes

1 large egg, lightly beaten (or 1/4 cup egg substitute)

1/2 cup buttermilk (or 1 1/2 teaspoons vinegar added to skim milk, as described above)

1/2 cup self-rising cornmeal

1/2 teaspoon salt (or salt substitute)

1/2 teaspoon pepper

1/2 cup all-purpose flour

3 medium-sized, firm green tomatoes, cut into 1/3-inch-thick slices (about 1 1/4 pounds)

vegetable oil

Whisk together egg and buttermilk. In a shallow dish combine cornmeal, salt, pepper, and 1/4 cup flour. Dredge tomato slices in remaining 1/4 cup flour; then dip into egg mixture; and next dredge in cornmeal mixture. In a large skillet pour oil to a depth of 1/2 inch. Heat oil to 375 degrees over medium-high heat. In batches drop coated tomatoes into hot oil and cook 2 minutes on each side or until golden. Drain on paper towels. Sprinkle hot tomatoes with salt to taste. Makes 6 servings.

Just when I thought our chance had passed, cucumbers saved the best 'till last!

The cries of victory likely could be heard to the next county--or to the next back yard, at least.

"We have one!" I heard Hubby exult somewhere amid the large expanse of vine in the middle of the garden. "It really did produce this year."

The cucumber vines had been gorgeous--all green and growing and huge. One would think that from them we'd have enough cucumbers to supply everyone in our hometown, or at least to make enough bread-and-butters to give to the family.

But alas! For weeks now, no cucumbers had turned up. Almost daily hubby would peer and paw around for some sign of life. The vines continued to spread out and become more lush, but very forelornly he would return from his hunt. No baby cukes under there.

That's what made this week's cry of joy from somewhere under the cucumber vines such a shock. We'd given up. Isn't that the way things just go? A popular song from a few years back sums things up pretty well: "Just when I thought our chance had passed, you went and saved the best 'till last."

Here as the summer moves on toward its finale, cucumbers--which usually are history at this point in the year--are starting to show. Just when time to plant the fall garden draws near, the cucumbers show promise (he says more blossoms are growing near the cucumber that's burst forth.)

But that's not all. Watermelons and cantaloupe are experiencing a late start as well. The watermelon vine, at this late date, has three promising melons and numerous other possibilities. The cantaloupe might have a late-summer bumper crop, too. Isn't life amazing?

Last night we celebrated our late-bloomer cuke with one of my all-time favorite cucumber dishes--Fried Cucumbers (prepared just like Fried Green Tomatoes) from my new cookbook, Way Back in the Country Garden. We shouldn't have, but Hubby and I were so ecstatic that the cucumbers had "made" this year, we poured a tiny bit of ketchup on and ate the whole bloomin' plate full.

Fried Cucumbers

4 medium cucumbers, washed, peeled, and sliced crosswise in thin slices

2 eggs, beaten (we use egg substitute)

1 cup milk (we use skim milk)

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 cup cornmeal

1 teaspoon salt (we use salt substitute)

1/2 teaspoon pepper

olive oil

Wash, peel, an slice fresh cucumbers. A few at a time, dip cucumber slices in a mixture of beaten eggs combined with milk. Place flour and corn meal in a clear plastic zip bag; add salt and pepper. Into bag place cucumbers that have been dipped in egg-mik mixture. In skillet heat about 1-inch oil. Fry coated cucumbers in hot oil. Fry as you would fried green tomatoes.