More Is More

I'm in a rut. I can't stop eating tomato sandwiches for supper, and it's all my co-worker Lisa's fault. She sent me a link to this website, and that was the beginning of my obsession.

See, I was raised on tomato sandwiches (along with cucumbers in vinegar, Brunswick stew, and fried oysters), so the website she innocently passed along was bound to strike a chord deep inside. We're talking comfort food...flavors that bring childhood memories rushing back to your mind...meals you'd forgotten could taste so amazing.

This week, my tomato sandwiches have been made of toasted sourdough wheat bread from the Farmer's Market, mayo, homegrown tomatoes (again, from the Farmer's Market), plenty of garlic salt and freshly ground pepper, and the piece de resistance—a melted slice of Provolone cheese. Lisa's recipe provided me with a revelation: Toasting the bread creates an entirely new sort of tomato sandwich, one that won't dissolve into a soggy mess before you can finish eating it—Eureka! And when I googled, "perfect tomato sandwich," I came up with a lot of delicious sounding variations.

My Granna Settle's tomato roll was a modification of the tomato sandwich my mother made. When my Granna died 11 years ago I grieved, among other reasons, because I would miss our long phone conversations, her unconditional love, and her yeast rolls. To enjoy one of her fresh rolls one more time, slathered with mayonnaise and adorned with a thick, juicy slab of tomato (courtesy of my Granddaddy, who annually grew enough tomatoes for all of Italy)...well, that would be a little slice of heaven.

Are you seeing a connection? It's so easy to get hung up on something that touches you deeply on an emotional level, and it's natural to want to keep evoking that same pleasurable response over and over. But there are two problems with the emotional connection...

First, you're bound to burn out eventually. There will come a day when I can't bear the thought of eating another tomato sandwich. And only time will tell if I'll recover from the excess, or if tomato sandwiches will be off of my personal menu forever.

The second potential problem with going overboard is that you may miss out on the present by focusing on the future. For example, what happens when the tomato harvest is over, and my tomato choices are reduced to pale, mealy imitations of the real thing? If I'm worried about that scenario while I'm eating my juicy tomato sandwich now, well, where's the joy in that? I suspect Peter experienced something similar during the transfiguration, related in Matthew 17:1-5 (NIV):

After six days Jesus took with him Peter, James and John the brother of James, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. There he was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light. Just then there appeared before them Moses and Elijah, talking with Jesus.

Peter said to Jesus, "Lord, it is good for us to be here. If you wish, I will put up three shelters—one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah."

While he was still speaking, a bright cloud enveloped them, and a voice from the cloud said, "This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him!"

In other words, Peter thought, "WOW, this is AMAZING. If I can just get these shelters built, I can show everyone how the prophecy is unfolding and the Feast of the Tabernacles is being brought full circle the coming of God's kingdom, AND I can make the moment last."

But that wasn't the plan, according to God. He said, "Peter...STOP. This is my SON....pay attention to THIS moment!"

When my kids and their cousins were growing up, everyone I knew had video cameras, and countless childhood moments were immortalized forever in film (all of which now need to be transferred to DVDs). I didn't have a camcorder though, mostly because I just always felt like I would be trading the present joy of experiencing the moment for looking through a lens, worrying about lighting and background noise.

Are you enjoying the "here and now" moments God graces you with? Or are you worried about where your next homegrown tomato is coming from? Life is a series of moments, some incredibly special, some not so much. But that's life, and to spend all of your time looking ahead (or worse, behind) is just sad. So seize the moment, or "carpe momento!"

Photo 1: Tomato sandwich image by Elizabeth Passarella, www.thekitchn.com
Photo 2: My fraternal grandparents, Walker & Frances Settle
Photo 3: My nephew, Noah Secor