I tend to make these at two times of the year: when the tomatoes aren’t yet ripe, but there are a ton of big greens hanging there taunting me, and just before or after the first frost of the year when I’m trying to make the most of the harvest. This recipe was requested by several people, as was my piccalilli recipe, which I’ll share at that second time of the year. it’s a funny thing, my making this recipe. It’s traditionally a Southern thing, and I’m very much a northern girl, with heavy shades of the West in my upbringing. But the one thing that I have in common with the ladies who first came up with this dish? A reluctance to waste anything, and a certain amount of impatience with the garden harvest.
When frost is threatening, I can cover my tomato plants, but that only works for so long, and then there’s the rush to pick all the things, and put them up securely in jars or the freezer for the long cold winter. Tomatoes in particular are somehow the essence of summer sunshine in a lovely globular package. But green tomatoes have their value as much as the red (or yellow) ones do. Tangy, firm, not as ‘tomatoey’ as the ripe versions, they lend themselves well to applications like making relish (chow-chow, piccalilli, other variations) or frying. You couldn’t bread and fry a ripe tomato slice, it would fall apart in the pan. Well, you might be able to… but these have a unique texture and flavor all their own, and one that is, IMO, well worth the effort involved in making them.
As you get set up, you’ll want a large cast iron skillet with about 1/2″ of oil in it. Three shallow bowls for the breading station, a slotted spatula for turning and lifting the tomato slices in the oil, and a fork for each of your bowls will make life easier. As always, I try to prep everything so I’m not trying to manage the cook at the same time as prepping. I’m not the most organized person in the world, but experience has taught me a few things.
You’ll want to slab your green tomatoes into fairly thick slices, close to a half inch. If you make them thinner the ratio of breading to tomato is off – unless that’s the part you like, in which case, skinny slices will do. Just not too skinny or they fall apart.
Fried Green Tomatoes
- 3-4 large green tomatoes
- 1/2 c flour
- 1/2 c self-rising cornmeal
- 2 large eggs
- 1/2 c milk
- 1 tsp garlic powder
- salt and pepper to taste
In one bowl, mix together the flour, salt, pepper, and garlic powder. In the second bowl, beat together the eggs and milk. In the third and final bowl, put the self-rising cornmeal. Heat oil in skillet until a breadcrumb dropped in rises immediately to the top of the oil.
Flour each slice of tomato, then flip it in the egg mix, before finally dredging it in the cornmeal. The three-step process is important, the flour helps the egg mixture stick to the tomato, otherwise your cornmeal will flake off as it cooks easily. I’ve tried shortcuts, they don’t work well, and after several experiments I settled on this method as best to my taste. I added the seasoning to the flour as the other layers protect them from burning in the hot oil. Fry for 2-3 minutes on each side, until golden brown. Transfer to a plate covered in paper towels. Serve while still hot – some like theirs with a drizzle of ranch dressing.
I have been known to eat these for my lunch, but they are a very nice side to a dinner, in lieu of the rather boring French fry. For this meal, I made crockpot pulled pork, a quick salad, sliced salted cucumbers (the First Reader’s favorite thing), and it was a feast.
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11 responses to “Fried Green Tomatoes”
Odd, Binging with Babish just put out his video on it.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KKBkY-7TCw0
Never heard of him. I’ll have to check it out!
this could be a eat this while you read this, and not even need a subtitle
There is a recipe from Chef Patrick in the Idea Cook Book you got for your wedding. He does an outstanding job. (Only had them once at his restaurant. But they were unforgettable.) I think you could successfully duplicate his recipe. Just as a change of pace. And if you and Sanford (and any or all of the kids have 3 hours free and want to experience “Refined American Cuisine” Char and I will treat yo to a special dining experience.
I really need to pull the book off my shelf and explore it. I was cooking more off the top of my head – have been doing that a lot, recently.
And thank you for the invitation, if we are ever in your neck of the woods we’d love to join you two.
Some of our ancestors moved to the West from the South, so we come by the Southern recipes naturally!
I gotta wonder if lil’ green cherry tomatoes would work deep-fried whole. Hmmmmm…
This is more or less how I do zucchini. And I’m hoping spaghetti squash is amenable to similar treatment… cuz planting four was a mistake. ONE would have been overkill. There are already half a dozen mature squash, around 100 squash-in-progress, and no end in sight. I swear the stuff is kudzu plus tribbles.
My tomatoes are mostly doing normal tomato things, except for being five feet tall, and the “Cherokee Purple” … which got into high gear weeks before the rest, so far is carrying about 15 pounds of green fruit (some softball-sized) and 100% of blooms set fruit, vs the typical ~60%. I hope they’re good, cuz there sure are way too many of ’em!
This is one way to use them up!
I have also done zucchini’s like this, although I usually pick very young and fry with just a little butter.
Yep, about half-again bigger’n a cucumber, but not nearly mature, that’s the time to fry ’em. I have one out there today that’s about ready to be dinner.
This brings to mind a family memory about green fried tomatoes, but when I checked it with the primary sources, no one remembered it.
When my mother prepared these for us as a child, I remember her telling a story about how she and my father (now deceased) lived on these for most of the first summer they were married until things started to ripen. It was also obvious that my dad enjoyed them.
But when I saw this post and asked my mother to confirm, she did remember dad liking them, but not the story I just shared. Nor did my older brother, the collector and embellisher of family stories.
So I appear to be the only person who remembers this story, though I remember mentally referring to it many times over the years when I encountered green friend tomatoes or talk about them.