Green Tomato Relish

      Around this time of year when all the nice juicy red tomatoes are gone from the gardens in my neighborhood I think about my grandmother.  She would call friends and relatives to see if they could give her their green tomatoes that were left in the gardens.  We'd usually get a bushel or two since the growing season was over and they wanted to get rid of them anyway.  In return they would get a jar or two of grandmother's special green tomato relish.
      The kitchen floor would be full of boxes of green tomatoes, shelves would be full of the other ingredients, jars were collected from the shed, new lids and seals were bought and I spent my days trying to think of a way I could get out of helping.
      I hated green tomato relish.  I had good reason to.  I was the one that had to turn the crank.  Grandmother had a big heavy metal grinder.  The rest of the year it was hidden away in a drawer just waiting.  At one time it must have been a meat grinder, but now it's only duty was to grind the ingredients for the relish.  Since food processors were way in the future this contraption was run by person power.  And I was the person who had to run it.
      It clamped onto the table edge with a big screw.  Vegetables were fed into the hopper, ground into tiny pieces and deposited in a pan on the table.  I sat on the opposite side of the grinder and turned the hand crank that turned the grinding blades.
      We peeled the tomatoes and cut each one into wedges.  There were big pans of tomato wedges that grandmother would feed into the grinder while I turned the crank.  Grinding the tomatoes wasn't easy but it was better than what came next.
      The other main ingredient was onion.  After peeling and cutting up the onions we would start the grinding process again.  We had to take breaks often to let our eyes recover.  Over the years I must have cried buckets because of those onions.
      All the ground up tomatoes and onions were put in a pan on the stove.  Grandmother added her special ingredients, some vinegar, sugar and spices.  Nothing was measured but it always came out right.
      This mixture cooked for several hours.  In the mysterious way that good cooks have grandmother just knew when it was ready.  I think it had something to do with the smell.  It was so strong our eyes would start to water again and the dogs would leave home.
      The relish was packed in jars, sealed and stored for future use.  The grinder was cleaned and stored away in a special place and I could relax for a year.
      Anyone who donated tomatoes were given some.   It was served often at meals especially if there were guest.  Everyone said it was delicious.  I wouldn't know.  Maybe it was because I had to turn that crank.  I couldn't bring myself to eat it.  I never tasted grandmother's special green tomato relish.
      Now, I wish I had.