Roadside Karl and a fat tomato sandwich

Been selling stuff on the side of the road again. Just can't seem to get away from the stink of fuel and the rumbling blasphemy of down shifting eighteen wheelers. Roll on! Actually I kind of enjoy meeting people who stop on the side of the road. An adventurous crowd, eager to see what pleasures I have to offer. This week my pleasure happens to be watermelons. Red meat and yellow meat, as they're known, although the yellow is actually orange and personally I find it a little odd to equate the cool, sweet flesh of a watermelon with rich, dense, incisor requiring animal flesh. Truth be told the melons are quite good. I've certainly had my fair share, and feel stronger, taller, and more healthy for it every day.

I've also initiated a recent addiction to a fairly common food item: the tomato sandwich. Just a tomato sandwich? Yes, just that. But its meager components combine to create a sandwich to remember. At the behest of the author Tom Robbins, who has a wonderful essay in his new book about why he would eat a tomato sandwich as his hypothetical death-row last meal, I have even given up one of my many food prejudices and use the dreaded white bread to prepare this poor man's delicacy. Tom's actual recipe requires only salt and pepper, Wonderbread, ripe tomatoes, and Hellmann's mayonnaise (known as Best Foods west of the Rockies). Wonderbread is apparently on the outs in these parts, so I had to use Holsem brand (whose name I really doubt). And mom prefers Kraft mayo, so that was what we had. And for the tomatoes... I just happened to grow some Brandywine tomatoes this summer, reputed by many to be the tomato to crush and wither all other tomatoes. And truly they are wonderful tomatoes. Big, thick, tangy, juicy, and red throughout. Everything a tomato should be, and nothing else. The recipe is simple: heavily mayo the bread, add slices of tomato, salt and pepper to taste, and voila! Delish! The first sandwich I made had tomatoes only minutes removed from the vine. They were still warm from the sun which made their flavor sing only that much louder. If you have homegrown tomatoes you're wondering what to do with, then roll up one of these honkers and wonder no more! It will certainly be one of my summer staples from now on.