Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Channeling Harriet

Have you ever noticed that, with your absolute favorite books, there is one detail, one quote, one paragraph, just something that you automatically remember when you think of it? This always happens for me. Here are a few examples...

-from Girl with a Peal Earring, by Tracey Chevalier: The first interaction between Griet and Vermeer in her home kitchen. He wonders aloud why she doesn't put the onion and shallot beside one another in her vegetable wheel and she responds that the colors fight. (This book completely sparked my interest in art history.....and maybe, celebrity relationships).

-from Ballet Shoes, by Noel Streatfield: The moment when Posy, the youngest fossil, is peering into the dance studio on her points - she is a natural ballerina, just like her mother. (I was always secretly jealous of her name, hair color (red) and ballerina status).

-from Harry Potter, by J.K. Rowling: The moment when Harry and Ginny finally kiss (yep, go ahead and call me a sap). I can remember that paragraph from the book almost verbatim.

-from Harriet the Spy, by Louise Fitzhugh: the noted detail that Harriet loves to eat tomato sandwiches.

Even as a younger person, I could always relate to Harriet's love of the tomato sandwich. And lately, with the influx of fresh summer tomatoes from my parents garden, I've been channeling Harriet a lot. Like, at least once, maybe twice a day. My appreciation for the summer tomato has been well documented on this blog (here, here & here), but nothing really compares to the simplicity of this sandwich:

white bread + mayo + tomato + sea salt

It's sort of squealchy and sloppy and probably disgusting to some (I know there are those of you out there who hate mayonnaise and I get it - I used to be you), but it's probably the one bite of food that I daydream about when I can't have it. And since tomatoes are only really, really good for about three months out of the year, they really do have to be eaten with abandon.

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