mom’s parents at her wedding, 1964
Here I am revisiting, if you will, an older post of mine.
Sharmi’s Cooking For Kids is being hosted this month by dear Pratibha and Jigyasa at their beautiful Pedatha tribute blog: whose food we eat, their song we sing.
P & J have always been so kind and supportive of me; I didn’t want to miss out!
I don’t have a trove of recipes handed down to me — but I do have great memories of this simple dish made for us kids by my beloved grandmother.
It is something I made for my children when they were small.
Not only that, it’s something a child can make.
An older child can handle a knife, of course, while a younger one can assemble the dish once the tomatoes are sliced.
pick a tomato!
P & J requested both recipes and memories of a loved one — this includes both.
I did manage to find some old photos to enhance, so I hope I am forgiven for ‘recycling’. 
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When I was growing up, my grandmother always had a fantastic garden.
my maternal grandparents, harborside, probably sometime in the 1930’s
me, with mom and dad at the beach on the cape ~ circa 1967
On the Cape, the sea air lends something to the soil — good things seem to simply sprout up where planted. If we were visting in spring, we were allowed to help with the weeding and the watering. Then came summertime, which meant a month-long visit at least. We kids played in half of her big backyard rimmed with brambles — blackberries and raspberries, with the garden taking up the other half. We played badminton, baseball, kickball, you name it. All those summer afternoons nana would sit in her lawn chair watching. Whenever a ball or birdie went astray and a child ran after it, she would jump up from her chair to retrieve the offending toy — all in order to save her precious plantings. In later years when she wasn’t so nimble, she would direct us between the rows of green, calling “out of the garden”. She did this in such a sing-song voice that I can still hear her tone now, thirty-plus years on.
When the games were over, we scrambled through the brambles — braving the prickers to pick blackberries which were then proffered to nana with blue-stained fingers and lots of love. In return we received simple and delicious fare from her well-worn and equally loving hands.
Tomato sandwiches were one such pleasure.
Later, as the sky grew dark, we would run barefooted over the lawn, chasing fireflies. And if any of us were so lucky as to catch one, nana always had a jar ready. We could place the firefly gently into that jar and watch it — maybe for half an hour, before nana would have us release it. She was a wise woman — having us set that small creature free to fire up our childhood dreams.
Eventually, my uncle took over the garden. Sadly, they are all three no more — garden, uncle, and nana. But the singsong call remains, “out of the garden”, and just a short drive away, my mom still has her own vegetable patch with juicy, succulent garden-fresh tomatoes every year.
This recipe is simple and can be enjoyed anytime, but to fully appreciate it, try it in the summer with a fresh, garden tomato — just picked and still warm from the sun.
my mom and her mom, circa 1968
Nana’s Tomato Sandwich
Choose the freshest, ripest tomato you can find. Rinse it off, and slice into medium-thick rounds. If you don’t mind tomato juice on your hands, leave the rounds whole. If you want a neater sandwich, cut them in half.
Take two slices of fresh, soft white bread. Storebought Canadian White style is my favorite. Homemade bread is great too. You could use wheat or some other whole grain, of course, but this sandwich of my childhood memories is all about indulgence so I use white bread and real mayo.
Real mayo in this case means Hellman’s — or for anyone west of the Mississippi, Best Foods brand.
Lay out your fresh white bread (preferably on a paper plate) and give each slice a thin veil of real mayo. Lay on the sliced tomatoes. Put the two halves together. Cut into quarters — triangles are the most fun.
Carry your plate outdoors if you can.
Gobble it up and lick your fingers — napkins are for grownups
nana and me, summer 1982
Photo of the simple sandwich included by request
tomato sandwich!
Thanks Susan — I’m looking forward to the round up as well as to reading the ‘archives’ 
