By Labor Day. The last gasp of summer, the last long weekend before Iowa settles into fall, which is the best season in the state and I will fight anyone who says otherwise. Fall in Iowa is football and harvest and the air turning crisp and the trees going gold along the rivers and the light slanting through the corn in a way that makes you understand why painters move here.
We spent the weekend at Grinnell. The kids ran through Dad's garden picking the last of the tomatoes — big beefsteaks gone soft and sweet, cherry tomatoes that burst in your mouth, green tomatoes that I took home for frying. Dad supervised from his chair on the porch, directing traffic like an air traffic controller: "Noah, don't pull the vine. Emma, those aren't ripe. Jack, bring me that big one." Jack brought him a tomato the size of a softball and Dad held it up and examined it with the seriousness of a jeweler appraising a diamond.
I made fried green tomatoes that night. Sliced thick, dredged in cornmeal and flour, fried in Marlene's cast iron until the coating was crispy and the tomato inside was still tart and firm. You eat them with salt and nothing else. Mom says ranch dressing on fried green tomatoes is a crime against food. She's right. She's always right about food. I don't think she's ever been wrong about food in her entire life, and I say that knowing she puts ketchup on scrambled eggs, which I consider a character flaw but not a food crime because ketchup has its place.
Kevin smoked a brisket in the backyard using a smoker he bought off Facebook Marketplace for sixty dollars and spent three weekends assembling. The brisket took twelve hours. It was dry. He said it was perfect. I said it was very good, which is what you say to a man who spent twelve hours on something and deserves encouragement regardless of the moisture content. We ate it with coleslaw and potato chips and that was Labor Day dinner and it was fine.
School has a rhythm now. Drop-off at eight, work by nine, pick-up at three-thirty, homework, dinner, baths, bedtime. It's a machine and we're all parts of it. I cook every night because that's my part — the feeding. Kevin's part is bedtime stories and gutter-not-fixing and being the steady one. We're a team. An imperfect, functional, hotdish-eating team.
There’s something about settling into a rhythm — the drop-offs, the pick-ups, the nightly feeding of people I love — that makes me want to cook something that requires a little patience and rewards it with something crisp and satisfying. Fried green tomatoes are exactly that: simple ingredients, a process worth paying attention to, and a result that feels more like a treat than a Tuesday. Here’s how I make them.
Southern Fried Green Tomatoes
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 3 large firm green tomatoes, sliced 1/2 inch thick
- 1/2 cup fine yellow cornmeal
- 1/4 cup all-purpose flour
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for finishing
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/4 teaspoon paprika
- 1 egg
- 1/4 cup buttermilk (or whole milk)
- 1/3 cup vegetable oil or lard, for frying
Instructions
- Slice and salt. Cut tomatoes into 1/2-inch rounds and lay them on a paper-towel-lined baking sheet. Sprinkle lightly with salt and let sit 5 minutes, then pat dry. This pulls out surface moisture so the coating sticks.
- Set up your dredging station. In a shallow bowl, whisk together the egg and buttermilk. In a second shallow bowl, combine cornmeal, flour, salt, pepper, garlic powder, and paprika. Stir to blend.
- Dredge the slices. Dip each tomato slice into the egg wash, letting the excess drip off, then press firmly into the cornmeal mixture on both sides until fully coated.
- Heat the cast iron. Pour oil into a 10- or 12-inch cast iron skillet and heat over medium-high until shimmering — about 350°F. A pinch of cornmeal dropped in should sizzle immediately.
- Fry in batches. Add tomato slices in a single layer without crowding. Fry 3 to 4 minutes per side until the coating is deep golden brown and crisp. Do not move them too early or the crust will tear. Transfer to a wire rack or paper-towel-lined plate.
- Finish and serve. Sprinkle with flaky salt the moment they come out of the oil. Serve immediately while the crust is at peak crunch. The tomato inside should be hot, tart, and still firm — not mushy.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 210 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 24g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 390mg