Tomato Sandwiches and @sshole saints

by Amy

Dr. Gilbert poured them glasses of spring water and made sandwiches with tomatoes still warm from his garden.

I wanted to start off by saying that I haven’t read it yet. I just received my copy today and am looking forward to sinking into it this weekend. I think we should have a no spoiler policy for a few weeks (a month or two?) before we begin to talk about the new book. We don’t want to ruin it for anyone, right?

Dr. Vincent Gilbert lived in the heart of the forest. Away from human conflict, but also away from human contact. It was a compromise he was more than happy to make. As was the rest of humanity.[...]“What do you want?” Dr. Gilbert repeated, straightening up and walking toward them.“Drop the act, Vincent,” said Gamache with a laugh. “I know you’re happy to see me.”
“Did you bring me anything?”
Gamache gestured toward Beauvoir, whose eyes widened.“You know I’m a vegetarian,” said Gilbert. “Anything else?”

There’s something liberating about Dr. Gilbert and Ruth. They’re both so obviously assholes, that you always know where you stand. No filter. They’re also both capable of great kindness and insight – when they choose to use it.

I hadn’t noticed this line, “You know I’m a vegetarian”, until just now. I love how we find these brilliant little tidbits in the books. Wonderful humor. Poor Beauvoir. He seems to be targeted by the two assholes in these books. He’s also the recipient of their amazing kindness and gentleness.

Gamache reached into his saddlebags and pulled out a brown paper bag and the map.“Welcome stranger,” said Gilbert. He grabbed the paper bag, opened it, and inhaled the aroma of the croissants.Tossing one precious pastry into the woods, without explanation, he took the rest into his log cabin, followed by Gamache and Beauvoir.

Why did he do that?

I wish we knew.

Is he taming some wild animal? Is it in honor of the hermit’s spirit or something? I wonder.

Some considered Vincent Gilbert a saint. Some, like Beauvoir, considered him an asshole. The residents of Three Pines had compromised and called him the “asshole saint.”“But that doesn’t mean he isn’t still a saint,” Gamache had said. “Most saints were assholes. In fact, if he wasn’t one that would disqualify him completely.”
The Chief had walked away with a smile, knowing he’d completely messed with Beauvoir’s mind.“Asshole,” Beauvoir had hissed.[…]Jean-Guy Beauvoir had seen great kindness in Gilbert, and ruthlessness in Gamache. Neither man, Beauvoir was pretty sure, was a saint.

I think our greatest qualities can also be our worst faults. Most things, in extremes, can be inconvenient, if not outright negative. I think that is one interpretation of what Gamache said.

Just as it is difficult to become great at anything without being slightly fixated on it (to the point of at least relative exclusion of other things), it is hard to be intense at anything without it sometimes backfiring.

Sometimes a good quality, a good characteristic, can become too much… or can be badly used.

I picked my child up from a gym class the other day. A friend was with me. She’s a teacher and we ran into one of her students’ moms. The mom was picking up her younger son who is in the same gym class as my son. She and my friend were talking about her eldest child and how neat and intelligent and well behaved and … all good things in an academic setting. A few minutes later she put an apologetic look on her face and mentioned that her son (a 7-year-old) was the polar opposite. 

She went on to say how he’s in trouble already at school and she’s told people at the school that she wants to “nip it in the bud”. As she was talking about how “unruly” he is, always in a school setting, I couldn’t help but answer.

I smiled and said, “Yeah… well… he’ll have to survive school. But we need people in the world with that kind of energy and creativity and ability to lead and inspire. The hard part in parenting and teaching children like your boy is finding a way to channel all those amazing qualities into good things. He’s probably amazing! He just has to learn how to use it in a good way.”

She looked slightly surprised. Then, “You’re the first person who’s ever said it like that. Usually it’s all bad. Yeah. He’s a good kid.”

It’s not easy to love the assholes. Or the prickly people. Or the tremendously honest. Or the ones with no filter between their brain and their mouth.

It’s not easy to find the good in the messy, maladjusted, unruly, dirty, annoying, non-conformists.

Sometimes, though, it’s worth it.

Sometimes, if you’re lucky (or blessed, I should say), you’ll meet the saint or the genius or the soft hearted, sensitive, brilliant, wonderful person that lives beyond the tough shell.

Or so I tell myself as I continue on my road to learning kindness.

Louise Penny’s books have grace in them.

Vincent Gilbert is redeemed.

Olivier is redeemed.

Beauvoir is redeemed.

Peter is redeemed.

Ruth seems to be on a path to redemption as well (although I hope she doesn’t change too much).

So many asshole saints. And we love them.

Tomato Sandwiches

Who knew?

I had a feeling of déjà vu when reading about tomato sandwiches. It was just like when I prepared to make oatmeal for the oatmeal post. Who knew there was a “right” way to make tomato sandwiches? 

Or that it’s even considered a “thing”. There are purists!

To all the purists out there – especially the “Southern Tomato Sandwich” purist group? Please do not read what I did. I completely blotched the “proper” sandwich.

From what I researched (I find it funny that so much has been written about tomato sandwiches), the “proper” tomato sandwich consist of cheap white bread – preferably the store brand kind, mayo spread on said bread, a thick slice of a big summer-fresh tomato – preferably picked from your own garden, but a farmer’s market tomato will do (store-bought, in this case, is a no-no), and some salt and pepper on the tomato. Period. Nothing else. Anything else will spoil the effect.

So… I can live with white bread. But I LOVE bread. Why does it have to be the kind I don’t care for? Why can’t I have yummy bread? I haven’t yet begun to make my own bread here, but there is a bakery in town that makes good bread. I decided on a fresh sourdough one. It’s white, right?

I never eat mayonnaise. My son won’t touch it. My husband doesn’t care for it. I love this blog, but not enough to buy mayonnaise for a “recipe” I’m pretty sure I would enjoy more if I tweaked it. So I used olive oil. Also… I toasted my bread with the olive oil. So wrong. I know. I read in more than once place that the bread should not be toasted in a tomato sandwich. I decided to be a rule-breaker here.

I don’t have a garden here. But a friend does. I’d gone through all the tomatoes she gave me. But I got a perfect one from the Farmer’s Market in town. So I did a good job with the most important ingredient, I think. I added a sprinkle of pepper, but no salt. It didn’t need the salt.

Doesn’t it look like a summery-fresh meal?

So... what's your version of a tomato sandwich?