Mother of Invention
Coming out of the Pandemic lockdown I REALLY needed a homegrown tomato sandwich.
In early June, we read on Facebook that The Beaumont Farmer’s Market had a social distancing and mask policy for shoppers. We thought, since it was an outdoor venue, we’d be OK as long as we made a quick trip and followed the guidelines. It was a beautiful morning, and we hit the jackpot with fresh onions and cucumbers, red leaf lettuce, green beans, banana peppers, fresh baked tandoori naan, and our prize, a sack of red-ripe Better Boys.
I had my heart set on a tomato sandwich for lunch but still needed to run to the store for bread and mayo, plus milk, eggs, and a few other things for the weekend.
Of course, since the Pandemic, a simple trip to the grocery store now requires the planning, strategery, and precision execution of a Seal Team raid. I made a list, and mentally mapped a route to limit face-to-face engagement. There would be no time to leisurely chat up old high school chums, loiter in the chip aisle, squeeze the avocados, or thump the melons.—Just hit it and get it!
I self-checked, and made it out unscathed. Five minutes tops!
But, when I got back home and we started wiping down the provisions, my wife asked, “Where’s the bread?”
“Uhhh…oh boy, don’t tell me I forgot the bread! I CAN’T go back” I whined.
What are we going to do?” she asked.
“I dunno, you can’t make tomato sandwiches without Wonder Bread. It’s a necessity! I threw up my hands.
“I guess we could make a salad. But, I’d have to wash and spin the lettuce and chop everything, and it’s already 12:30.”
Panic was setting in. Then, the lightbulb moment:
“Hey, why don’t we put the tomatoes on the naan? It would be sorta like those salad pizzas at CPK, except without the lettuce.” I said.
“I’m starving, I say do it!”
I preheated the oven to 375, lined a cookie sheet with parchment, laid out two naan, and lightly brushed them with olive oil. Then, I baked them on the middle rack for about 10 minutes, checking them pretty often to make sure they didn’t burn. Just as they crisped up, I took them out and let them cool on the stovetop while I sliced the tomatoes. I slathered each flatbread with Blue Plate, laid two tomato slices on each and added a pinch of sea salt and fresh ground black pepper, and a tiny drizzle of balsamic. Finally, in a move that would have made Ernie Mickler proud,—I leaned way over the sink and took a big bite while the juice ran down my chin.