Tomato Festival

A big THANK YOU to our guest blogger today and good friend of Erin’s, Alison:

It was a weekend a year in the making. Anyone who has met Tim knows that it doesn’t take long before “The Tomato Festival” comes up. This is usually followed by, “you have to go.” After the 5^th or 6^th time of mentioning it, and confirmation from Erin that this was a “must-see” event, I marked my calendar (last September) so that I wouldn’t miss out.

Tim’s family lives in Lancaster County which is known for tomatoes (apparently) and Amish people. And, luckily for us, is only a two-hour drive from Washington, DC. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, other than buggies and well-made rocking chairs. First, let me say that the landscape is breathtaking. My mom’s family is from an agricultural community in northern Michigan, so I’m no stranger to a farm, but this was different. Every house is well-maintained. Every barn a lesson in architecture. Each field a verdant green. It is calm, and peaceful. Idyllic.

I have decided that I love going to visit friends’ families. Tim’s family was no exception. Cindy (Tim’s mom) had a fantastic meal waiting for us when we arrived, traffic-weary, to their home. It was my first brush with “ham loaf” and I had never seen so many green beans in one bowl. The potatoes were freshly dug from Fred’s garden. With this feast before me, I nearly missed it: Washington Boro tomatoes, prepared to perfection by Cindy into a tomato caprese salad. Delicious. Decadent. The way God intended tomatoes to taste.

One of my favorite things about meeting new people in new places is that they usually like to show you around. We woke up to a rainy Saturday morning, but luckily Fred (Tim’s father) had a plan: a car tour of Amish country. Our first stop was Market, a fantastic indoor market with beautiful produce, fresh cut sunflowers, sinfully delicious donuts and handmade quilts. Based on the amount of people who knew “us” (I’ve decided I’m now a part of the family), Market must be the place to be and to be seen in Lancaster. Stomachs full of Long Johns, we continued on Fred’s tour which included former presidents’ residences, old Mennonite meeting halls, abandoned mills and an Amish health food store with no electric lights. I loved driving by the Amish buggies, trying to see who was inside. I was impressed with the Amish farms and wondered what it would be like to live without electricity. We went by several Amish one-room schoolhouses, which sadly brought back images to my mind of the tragedy at West Nickel Mines School several years ago.

After a rain hike with Tim, Erin and Valiant up a muddy mountain we got cleaned up and were finally off to the Tomato Festival. The rain stopped by the time we arrived and the residents of Washinton Boro were setting out their lawn chairs and saying hello to their relatives and neighbors. There is a stage set up where a band plays country covers and several Lancaster ladies gave a good show of their line dancing skills. There are games set up around the perimeter of the field, most cost a quarter. One of the most popular was a game where children launched rubber frogs onto lily pads using rubber mallets. Another involved flipping quarters into glasses of various shapes and sizes. I was hoping for a dunk tank, but I was out of luck. Surprisingly, the Tomato Festival has very few tomatoes. But, that doesn’t seem to be the point of this community gathering. I loved being a fly on the wall, observing. Families that have known each other for generations. Friends kicking back over a plate of fries while listening to country music. Children’s excitement at eating funnel cakes and running around with their pals after dark. It was simple, no frills. It was happy.

The weekend was a great time of getting out of the hot and muggy city, of being with good friends and eating amazing food. As we were getting ready to leave on Sunday, Cindy kindly fixed us up one more caprese salad. It is a taste that will linger in my mind until next summer. When I can go to the Tomato Festival again. In the meantime, I’m going to talk it up to anyone who will listen.