Mayonnaise, Mystery and a Memory; Culinary Courage

Ever try a peanut butter, tomato, and mayonnaise sandwich?

Our Food for Families ministry at St. Paul’s Lutheran Church recently gave out some fragrant, juicy, fully ripened beefsteak tomatoes.

This sparked a lot of conversation around the table, of tomato memories, favorite recipes and one surprising sandwich.

One friend, David, expressed his love for a strange concoction: tomato, peanut butter, and mayonnaise on a sandwich.

Most of us were slightly horrified and deeply curious.

“There’s a story behind it,” David continued. “Years ago I was doing some work for a friend, and she invited me to eat dinner with her and her son.”

I said, ‘ok,’ but she added this warning: ‘I only have peanut butter, tomatoes and mayonnaise for a sandwich.’ I told her, ‘I will try it.'” And much to his surprise, he found that it was delicious. What moved him more than the taste was the fact that she was so poor, this was all she had, and she shared it with him.

Still skeptical, I left the church hefting my huge tomato on my palm.

On the drive home I decided to try it – a half sandwich only, in case I gagged.

At home, I immediately sliced into the juicy tomato and stacked it along with a thin swipe of mayo and a thick layer of peanut butter. The result? Surprisingly tasty!

So tasty that I Googled and even found recipes online for this sandwich.

This odd sandwich combination brings to mind a few things. First, kindness doesn’t have to be fancy.

The woman gave what she had, despite not having much, and that became a lasting memory and a source of inspiration. Now that David shared his experience, we all have a story of kindness to warm our hearts.

Also, trying something new can pay off. When I was working as a waitress someone ordered caviar and then didn’t want it. I took it back and the kitchen staff dared each other to try it. I did.

In that case I did indeed gag, but I know now never to try it again. It’s not just trying new food that can pay off. Getting to know new people and trying new experiences may lead to surprising enrichment.

When traveling across rural Iowa I once stopped at a tiny burg that was celebrating “July Corn Days,” (their one festival of the year).

There were maybe 30 people there. I played cornhole, ate corn on the cob and laughed with strangers.

One hour of my time, but I drove away richer.

Finally, conversations build community. The simple act of giving out tomatoes sparked stories and laughter and connection.

This all began with a table of friends, a few tomatoes, and a willingness to listen.

David still enjoys this sandwich decades later, and he thinks of this woman and her graciousness each time.

Sometimes it only takes a tomato and a story to feed the soul. Generosity, curiosity, and connection are at heart — nourishment.

About the Author: Rev. Sharon Smith is pastor of St. Paul’s Lutheran Church in Imlay City, tomato enthusiast, and unapologetic trier of weird food combinations – except caviar, which she’s sworn off for life. She writes from the intersection of everyday life and holy surprises, often while hefting a sandwich in one hand and a notebook in the other.

Contact Sharon at tct@pageone-inc.com