In praise of local tomatoes

(Don Dale photo, 2011)

Forget the imperfections. They can be trimmed away. Instead, glory in the taste of the first of summer's most-anticipated bounty -- the locally grown tomato.

My grandmother Nichols always told me that you could expect the first of your home-grown tomatoes to ripen in time for July 4th. I used to grow my own in the back yard, but I gave it up after several droughts, a few losing battles with squirrels, and the realization that I could always depend on the kindness of neighbors.

But I found some genuine Hanover tomatoes several days ago at my favorite roadside vegetable stand. I spent about $4.50 for five beautiful specimens, knowing full well that the price per pound would fall dramatically as the season wears on. No matter: The first is always the best.

I've been told that it's the soil in Hanover County that makes Hanover tomatoes so delicious. Whatever the reason, they're one of the many precious gifts that come from living in Central Virginia. I remember bringing home at least a bushel basketful in the 1960s when a friend of mine and I spent several backbreaking days picking tomatoes at his parents' Hanover County farm. But the effort paid off because we could stop to eat as many as we wanted, ripe and warm from the sun and right off the vine, as we sweated our way up and down row after row.

Hanover tomatoes are the best, but backyard-garden tomatoes come close. When I was a kid, my father used to eat the first one of his vine-ripe tomatoes, from our backyard, much like he'd eat an apple, while standing over the kitchen sink with a salt shaker in his free hand. I didn't grow tomatoes myself this year, but I did eat the first Hanover tomato I purchased while standing at the kitchen sink. It was akin to a religious experience.

I sliced the second tomato, spread two slices of white bread with mayonnaise, and made a sandwich.

Since then, I have had sliced ripe tomatoes with balsamic vinaigrette, roast chicken sandwiches with tomato slices, tomatoes cut into chunks and topped with blue cheese, and salt-and-peppered tomato slices with scrambled eggs and bacon. Tonight, I'll have chopped Hanover tomatoes, shrimp, minced garlic, butter and Parmesan cheese over pasta.

This is my paean, my song of joyful praise, to the Hanover tomato. There is none -- none! -- better.