The Tomato Capital Y’all

This is a piece I included in my dissertation for my Masters in Creative Writing. It's based on an experience I had in Texas during my first visit almost one year ago, and one of the moments I discovered how 'freakin legit' (as my husband would say) Texas is! 

Jacksonville, Texas, home of the largest bowl of salsa and the best dang Texas barbeque you’re ever likely to get.

I bit into my beef steak burger at Jacksonville Joe’s. As I chewed, I was aware that every set of eyes at the table was fixed on me, awaiting my response.

‘It’s good,’ I garbled through my mouthful, then took another and smiled to confirm. Outside, a concrete tomato weighing 665 pounds and sporting a patched up ‘boo-boo’ grinned at me. I grinned back, reminded of the small town’s status as the Tomato Capital of the World. In celebration, 235 concrete tomatoes had been commissioned, each decorated with its own unique flare and character.

The walls of Joe’s were littered with scrawled names and ‘I was here’ phrases. I was asked to leave my mark, making sure to write where I was from too so that everyone would know that an English girl had sampled the cuisine. When I was directed to a section of the wall designated to my elderly host’s family, I felt a warm surge of affection for the people of Jacksonville. 

I took another bite of my burger, feeling a glob of salsa escape the bun and drop onto my chin. I reached for my napkin to remove it when a booming southern voice called across the cafe.

‘Is there a lady from England in here?’

I turned in response, my mouth full and the salsa still sat on my chin.

‘Hello,’ I managed through the beef.

Three of my companions at the table who were local to Jacksonville acknowledged the large man as the Senator and dipped their heads respectfully. I cringed and cursed at my incessant need to tear large chunks from my food.    

The Senator shook my hand and asked if I had signed the wall.

This must be what fame feels like, I thought as I sucked the last string of beef from my teeth.

From the corner of my eye I could see the rapid rise and fall of my fiancé’s shoulders as he tried to supress his amusement at the situation. I ignored him and gazed up at the Senator with my best English-rose smile. This must have won him over, as in the next breath I had an invitation to see his Long Horn Cattle. My fiancé stopped laughing abruptly and choked on his coke.