It matters not if it’s a fruit or a vegetable. I have a love affair with ‘maters. I relish summer not for its long, sunny days, jaunty dresses, kicky sandals, or soothing sea spray. I adore summer because the season brings me tomatoes. Yes, I am devoting a blog post to this plump gem that dazzles unadorned. Sure, they come in various shades of red from deep maroonish hues to almost pink. But summer’s harvest also delights us with green and red marbled tomatoes, orange, yellow, and the loveliest celadon.
I ate a simple tomato sandwich for lunch the other day. I was oohing and aahing in culinary orgasmic rapture. I was prattling on and on about how absolutely PERFECT and DELECTABLE this simple sandwich was. I proclaimed multiple times that this was the BEST tomato sandwich I had ever bitten into. My family thought I was nuts. But truly, the simplicity of ever so slightly toasted wheat bread spread with a thin layer of mayo and topped with fresh tomatoes and sea salt is one of summer’s, nay life’s, greatest pleasures. Never underestimate that which is modest. The joy of that sandwich sparked a new found appreciation for simplicity.
I just might OD on tomatoes. I reach for farmers market fresh ones and order a different variety in each week’s CSA box. Just a tish of sea salt or black lava salt does the trick. No olive oil. No balsamic. And Lord knows, NO bottled salad dressing. The season for tomatoes is short. The mealy mess of November’s crop is crap. I enjoy them now, knowing that Persephone reins in the bounty come fall and winter. Until then, I’ll get my share of lycopene and wipe drizzling tomato juice from my chin. Don’t mind if my shirt is covered in seeds and droplets of tomato juice for a couple more months.
One last word, either grow your own tomatoes or buy them locally and organic. Read the book Tomatoland. It’s a short, insightful read, and I assure you, you will never look at a grocery store tomato the same again.
thanks for share!