Recipe: heirloom tomato salad
I’m wearing fleece right now, because September flipped the switch on summer and we’ve been relishing this glorious cool down! The neighbor was firing up their hot tub (because the pipes can burst when we get down to freezing overnight), we saw morning frost in the high country, and snow is predicted on the high peaks this week. Just in time too, because we upgraded our tele gear this weekend. Now we’re poor and happy!
i chose the rossi s3s over the k2 kung fujas
soon all this will be covered in snow… precious precious snow
Labor Day marks the end of the vacation season. Kids are back in school, people go back to work. It is the start of when I like to spend time outside the most. The weather is cool enough to my liking and the backcountry isn’t filled with a bunch of yahoos from the city. Kaweah can happily trundle along on her walks without overheating. That smell of crispness on the air means autumn fast approaches. We’ve already seen early bird sprigs of aspen turning yellow around our local trails. The sun journeys across the sky a little lower each day and the remaining late season wildflowers dot the landscape with their humble whites, yellows, and purples. I love the transition from summer to autumn.
plants turning yellow
k-dawg pooped out after her hike
I don’t hate summer. It’s really the heat that gets me more than anything else. And while I’m gleefully anticipating ski season, I have to say that it is with great sadness that the love affair with the summer bounty must come to an end. Corn, tomatoes, peaches (oh my goodness, those Colorado Palisade Peaches), melons, baseball bat zucchini, cherries, plums, berries, peppers, beans… I enjoy most all of these prepared in the simplest of ways. It’s too hot to futz with stuff over the stove or in the oven. Minimalist preparation means that the foods are allowed to shine and that you have more time to go out and play. One of my favorite fruits of summer? Heirloom tomatoes.
i buy the hell out of them at the farmers’ market
a little olive oil, some fresh basil, and smoked mexican sea salt
I will eat a good, fresh tomato the way I eat a peach. They are sweet enough to be dessert. Jeremy has always eyed tomatoes with suspicion. He would pluck them out of his dish and onto my plate. This year, we’ve been eating a lot of heirloom tomatoes around town and at home… and he likes them. Perhaps tomato haters hate crappy tomatoes? If that’s the case, it’s totally justifiable. I hate crappy tomatoes too. They aren’t even worth eating. But once you get your hands on farm or garden fresh tomatoes, please don’t put them in the refrigerator. That’s a sure fire way to kill the flavor and reduce the flesh to a mealy imposter. People like to serve heirlooms sliced thin, but I really love them in chunks so I can get a nice juicy, meaty bite of the sweet and tangy flesh. Then I just add some olive oil and a sprinkling of salt.
slice however you like
drizzle a little olive oil
a pinch of salt
Next to eating a tomato like a peach, this is my simplest and favorite way to enjoy sunshine on a plate. They are still at the markets and I intend to indulge in these beauties until I can’t find them anymore, by which time I hope I’ll be sufficiently distracted with the start of an early ski season. One can always hope.
serve with fresh basil
Heirloom Tomato Salad
heirloom tomatoes (as many as your heart desires)
fresh basil (optional)
Cut the tomatoes into bite-size chunks (or slice thin for carpaccio). Drizzle a little olive oil over the tomatoes. Sprinkle some salt. Garnish with fresh basil and serve.