Last night I posted this photo of a tomato sandwich (since devoured) on my facebook page without any real mention of why I love it so much. Just posted the photo, basically. The comments that this one photo elicited were so full of recognition, memories, and sentimentality. It was a lovely thing.
I remember asking for tomato sandwiches as a little girl. My mother would take two slices of white Freihofer's bread (everyone ate white bread then), thick slices of tomato, still warm from the sun, a little salt, pepper, and a smathering of mayo, and send me out into the back yard where I sat on my swing and slowly swayed back and forth, admiring the sandwich and loving every little bite. Friends Weezie and Chris posted almost immediate responses to the posted photo with memories of their own mothers (I hadn't mentioned mine) which maked me realize that we treasure the simplest of things, that the happiest memories are of of time with our mothers and those quiet, nurturing moments of generosity.
I had other interesting sandwich requests when I was a young girl. I loved iceberg lettuce, mayo, and pepper on the same white bread. It had a nice, cold crunch. I also liked hot dog rolls with yellow mustard (no hot dog!). Cream cheese and jelly were family favorites. My mother could make a whole bunch of sandwiches out of one can of tuna and a little bit of mayo. We had egg salad sandwiches regularly. Rounding out our regular sandwich options were pb & j, fried egg, balogna, grilled cheese, and once in a while, cold cuts (but not usually). When we'd go on road trips, my mother would use a whole loaf of bread, and then stack the finished sandwiches right back in the bag the bread came in (genious!). Big fat deli pickles and lemonde in that large, plaid metal thermos made lunch for nine of us!
I love remembering the sandwiches of my childhood. I hope my kids have happy memories of the sandwiches of theirs as well (which weren't too different!).