Big Man and I are planning a short little trip to Florida to stay with my brother and sister-in-law (yes, where we spent our "hurrication" during Hurricane Gustav last year), and I asked what we could bring. My sister-in-law immediately said, "Creole tomatoes, if you can find them." My brother really loves them, and you can't get them in Florida.
Creole tomato season is upon us once again, with the annual Creole Tomato Festival (blogged about last year) scheduled for two weeks from now. You have to be careful in the stores, watching for the little stickers that say "Creole Tomato" and the name of a particular farm, and not accidentally pick up regular, old, almost-tasteless tomatoes. The ones I found today at Breaux Mart were from a farmer named Liuzza, and all I can say is, "Thank you, Mr. Liuzza!!"
As soon as I got home, I set the Creoles into a pan for safe travel across pieces of four states, but kept one out. I sliced that baby up into thick slabs, slathered Blue Plate mayo onto good bread, set the slices on, sprinkled sea salt on top, and sat down to fully enjoy one of Nature's wonders -- a Creole tomato sandwich.
Oh my God. Maybe we'll swing by Breaux Mart or the French Market on the way to Florida tomorrow afternoon after church. I totally think we did not buy enough.
1 comment:
That sounds wonderful! I miss tomatoes not tasting like tomatoes should!
And the sea salt on it....yum!
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