[ back ]
BITS AND PIECES - 06/29/2008
(by Howard Ball - OpEd Columnist - July 01, 2008)
Beef over beefsteaks?
The best laid plans of Beth and Howard “gang aft a-gley (often go astray).” That line from poet Bobby Burns could not be more accurate to describe "The Great Tomato Growoff."
Beth McPherson is my dear friend and surrogate daughter. She and her husband Jim publish The Weston Chronicle in Weston, Missouri. Beth and Jim were both luminaries on the Washington, DC scene, but they decided to give up fame and possible fortune to return to the Heartland and run a little newspaper. I met Beth three decades ago when she agreed to be my date when I was installed as president of the Pompton Lakes Volunteer Fire Department.
When Beth and Jim purchased the ailing Chronicle I became an unofficial advisor. They have done a wonderful job. Beth is editor and writer. Jim beats the puckerbush for advertising.
"The Great Tomato Growoff" was designed to answer the question: Which state has the best tomato — Missouri or New Jersey? This controversy has raged among us for many years. As you know I have always heralded the Jersey tomato as the best in the world, The folks from the “Show Me” state have claimed their fruits as the superior.
The McPherson clan, including my sweet Sarah and Sam the Cook, have freely admitted that Jersey french fries with brown gravy are superior. But they have always defended the Missouri tomato. Back a few years I was having lunch at the Evans Restaurant in Meadville, Missouri when I mentioned the superior qualifies of Jersey-grown tomatoes.
The nice ladies stopped making their delicious homemade peach pie and confronted me with a large platter of freshly picked Missouri tomatoes. I ate them before a room full of Heartlanders who wanted to hear my opinion. I have never admitted this before but those succulent red fruit were just as good if not better than some Jersey tomatoes I have crunched. Missouri and Jersey grow tomatoes. Florida and California grow big red hockey pucks, and heaven knows what is in the dubious fruit from Mexico. (Hello salmonella.)
When I shared with Beth the disaster I had with the so-called Giant Tomato Trees from Gardener’s Choice, she decided to send some Missouri Giant Tomato plants to grow in Jersey soil so we could see what a superior product it would be.
Twas a consummation devoutly to be wished, but a difficult trip on UPS and the intrusion of an Alberta Clipper doomed the experiment. All four of the Missouri heroes are in tomato heaven and I am left with the hardy plants from Abma Farms and GroRite. (I secretly purchased a fully ripe plant at GroRite to fool the family.}
I would love to stroll around the Weston Farmer's Market or to go to Rotary in Weston or St. Joe. I miss my annual trip to the Jesse James grave in Kearny and the scenes along the Missouri. I remember the joy of walking the streets of Hannibal where Tom Sawyer got his pals to paint the fence. I would love to sit at the big table in at the Koffee Cup in Linneus and enjoy the cholesterol carnival biscuits and white gravy.
I guess you can take the boy out of Missouri, but you will never take the Missouri out of the boy!
[ back ]
