The Best Of Friends

As we so often do when Lon and Lis come over, the guys split off and Lis and I do the same. We always chat together for awhile first and all of us enjoy each other's company tremendously but Lis and I need our alone-together time to discuss the things we need to discuss amongst ourselves and I think the men do too. And let's just face it- the things Lis and I discuss might make the men uncomfortable and the things they discuss would probably make us look at each other and roll our eyes. Sorry if I'm being sexist. I'm also being honest. 
So while Lis and I were on the back porch chatting away, the fellas decided to do a walk about the yard and while they were out there, they checked the fig tree which I haven't done in weeks because I never get any mature figs and lo and behold- they found and picked quite a few! I was flabbergasted! That's more figs than I've gotten in the past four years combined.

Happy me. And there are still some yet to ripen so that is tremendous. I have no idea why the critters have left the fruit alone this year. Could it have been the presence of Hawk? 
Who knows? 
Not me. 

So our supper turned out to be one of the most Florida of all possible Florida meals and I am not going to lie- it was damn good. I worked really hard at the tomato pie. Every year I have go through about twenty online recipes to remind myself of what I think works and what doesn't and what I should try and what I shouldn't. In other words, no two of my tomato pies have been alike. I did not grow up eating tomato pies. I'd never even heard of one until maybe fifteen or so years ago. And the first one I made was in Asheville when Lis and I went to Asheville to visit Jessie and Vergil when they were living there. We went to a farmer's market and got THE MOST BEAUTIFUL heirloom tomatoes you've ever seen, or at least I'd ever seen, and I have no idea where I'd heard about tomato pie but I decided to make one and we still haven't quit talking about that or the world's most beautiful and gigantic heirloom tomato which was the star of that show. I find it strange that people talk about how tomato pie is some big southern tradition and say that their recipe was passed down from their grandmother because I just don't think anyone used to make them. 
Maybe Paula Deen invented them. 

Over the years I have learned that it is of utmost importance to blind bake the pie crust and I've also come to realize that draining the sliced tomatoes on paper towels or dishtowels and then perhaps roasting them for a little while in a casual manner on a baking sheet on parchment paper adds up to a pie that is not soggy. 
And that's what I did yesterday. 
You make a goop of mayonnaise, grated cheese, and an egg to go between the layers of the tomatoes (or, some recipes just call for you to put that all on the top) and I added basil, chopped semi-roasted onions, and chopped green onions to that mixture. 
What kind of cheese? 
Whatever makes you happy. The pioneer woman uses blue cheese and although I am one of blue cheese's biggest fans I'm thinking that's not what I want in my tomato pie. I used a sharp cheddar and a little parmesan in yesterday's pie. 

You layer all of that into the mostly pre-baked pie crust and bake it at about 375 degrees until all the cheesy mayonnaisy stuff is not jiggly and then it's done. 

You can add garlic or oregano or whatever you want. And the best suggestion I can make is that you are going to need far more tomato slices than you think you will. 

So we had that and some pan-fried red snapper filets, courtesy of Glen, and I made stone-ground grits which resemble the grits you get in grocery stores or at restaurants about as much as homemade sourdough resembles Merita white bread, not to insult either more processed grits or Merita white bread (which makes excellent catfish bait when you squish some up to make a little dough ball to put on your hook) and I cut up some of our cucumbers and made a salad with those and sliced red onions and sesame seeds and vinegars and, oh, you know, some other stuff. 

I'll be honest- I was somewhat anxious about how I would deal with these foods. I've been eating pretty plain and down to the ground for the last two months and I wasn't sure how I'd react when something like tomato pie was set in front of me. But it was fine. I made a plate of everything on the table and ate until I felt satisfied and that was that. 
I am still finding this unbelievable. 

And of course, the main thing was being with Lis and Lon and being able to enjoy their company, laugh with them, be serious with them, to simply be so grateful for their presence in our house, their presence in our lives. 
And astoundingly, neither Lis nor I cried. 

Today has been a fine day. I decided to go out and see if there were any figs left for me to pick and I got a few. Maurice helped.

Then I came in and decided to make fig preserves. 

Here's the ancient recipe I've always used.

It's been years since I made any and as you may note, the instructions are clear enough except what, exactly, does it mean to cook rapidly until clear? How clear? Say what? 

So I did it by instinct and used a cup less sugar and I think I overcooked them which only means that the preserves are more like some brown sugar candy than preserves but I have a feeling they'll be fine on a biscuit. 

Fruit will cook DOWN, y'all. 

I feel certain the recipe I use is, in all actuality, someone's MeeMaw's recipe. 

And in what is the best news of today here in Lloyd, Mr. Moon has replaced the pump on the washing machine and we are back in business. 
Hoo-boy. 
That man. 

At one point I walked into the laundry room and he was working from the floor with his head UNDER the tilted back machine. I had a few things to say about that and he responded to them which did not completely reassure me but he is still alive so I guess he was right. 

What a man. 

I better go make him his supper. 

Love...Ms. Moon