Naked and Up to Somethin'
As the annual tomato festival in Columbus nears, I found myself trying to reconcile the word “mater.” This must be addressed, for the event is called Mater Mania. (It’s this Sunday afternoon.)
Both of us Dew Point Farmers have been conscripted into judging the tomato contest, to help decide “biggest," which hopefully will be fairly straightforward, assuming we can consult a scale or measuring tape, and “ugliest,” which is were the fun is bound to be had among the judges. By which I mean sparring.
But back to etymology. Some would say “mater” is just redneck for “tomato,” but I think it’s more nuanced than that.
For a helpful analogy, I think we can turn to that dearly departed Georgia humorist Lewis Grizzard. One of his signature moments was when he pinpointed the difference between the words “naked” and its colloquial cousin, “nekkid.” For, like “tomato” and “mater,” they are not the same.
“There's a big difference between the words, ‘naked’ and ‘nekkid,’” he said. “‘Naked’ means you don’t have any clothes on. ‘Nekkid’ means you don't have any clothes on … and you’re up to something.”
So to put it in SAT-approved format, I would suggest …
mater : tomato :: nekkid : naked
Now I’m not saying that a mater is a tomato that’s “up to something” exactly. I’m positing that a mater is a tomato that’s converted so much sunshine and water into red flesh and sugars that it’s on the verge of bursting out of its skin.
Jenn and I were able to have our first BLT of the year this week, which we refuse to eat until we’ve got our first fat home-farm-grown tomato. Our tomatoes this year are all a funky variety called Tennessee Suited. They’re dark green and dark red, and misshapen and knobbly, and could probably win an ugly contest if we were competing. But they’re full of dark, sweet tomato liquor and they taste phenomenal. That’s a picture of one up at the top of this post. So yeah, that sandwich was as good as you can imagine with the tomato juice mixing with mayo and turning into a delicious goo threatening to blaze a trail down arm and to sleeve.
“That is a trash-can tomato,” Jenn said between bites.
That’s not an insult. It’s a nod to pastry chef Lisa Donovan, who wrote of “trash can peaches,” so good and juicy that you have to eat them over the trash pail to catch their drippings. (That’s from her wonderful book titled “Our Lady of Perpetual Hunger,” which is so worth the read. I grabbed it from the Chattahoochee Valley Regional Library, tore through it, and passed it immediately to the missus.)
In any case, the most important information I can impart, at least to Chattahoochee Valley residents, has nothing to do with the tomato lexicon. It is this:
Mater Mania is Sunday, 3-7 p.m. It’s a street party on 38th Street, between (and including) MercyMed Farm and The Food Mill, and the other important details are on The Food Mill’s event page. But the most important bits follow… Admission is free. Jenn and I will be there. There will be tomatoes. There will be tomato-themed snacks, including, I’m told, Bloody Marys. The Food Mill’s coolers and shelves stocked with fresh produce from local farms (including Dew Point Farm’s spaghetti squash, eggplant, cucumbers, and a few of those Tennessee Suited fellers that are so good on sliced bread). There will be stuff for kids to do, to include water-themed play to keep ’em cool as tomatoes cucumbers.
There will, I’m certain, be maters.