On Tomatoes

My love of the tomato blossomed relatively late in life.  I did that thing kids often do, swearing off the actual fruit (probably without even having tasted it) and only eating its most un-tomato-ey incarnations: ketchup, canned tomato soup, artificially sweetened pasta sauce. 

It wasn't until I was a sophomore in high school that I ate my first slice of raw tomato in earnest, in a turkey sandwich made for me by my friend's aunt on Long Island.  (It goes to show how momentous the experience was that I still remember it so vividly.) By the time my mother's landmark Summer of the Tomato came around, I was finally able to pop one in my mouth in its most naked state without so much as a wince. 

Since then, I've taken it upon myself to make up for lost time.  Thankfully, this season is off to a spectacular start. It began when I was home with my parents, with some startlingly sweet and juicy yellow gooseberry tomatoes from Walker's Roadside Stand in Little Compton, Rhode Island (261 West Main Road). 

(I will keep from saying more about Walker's now; it most assuredly deserves its own post.)

And just today I experienced what can only be described as tomato bliss, in the form of one Yellow Perfection (aptly named) and a handful of red grape tomatoes, all from a farm in upstate New York that I swear the man I spoke to said was called Standard Farm, though I've found no evidence of them online.  And we all know if it's not on the Internet, it must not exist.*

Anyway, the tomatoes needed very little adornment, but I took the liberty of dressing them up with a sprinkle of extra virgin olive oil, salt and pepper, and some chopped Anise Hyssop that I got from Pumpkin's Organic Market (1302 8th Avenue, Brooklyn) this past week.  It's a member of the mint family, with a strong licorice scent but very subtle flavor--a very nice alternative to basil.

In hindsight, the tomatoes didn't need even those little additions, so I think I'll polish the rest off tomorrow in their natural state.

* August 21 update: After some investigating, I discovered that the farm is actually called Stannard Farm, and they are located in Johnsonville, NY.

Comments

[Amy]

that looks delicious. now i must get you into the wonders of gazpacho. you know how sometimes you come home and all surfaces in the kitchen are covered in microscopic veggie flecks and the whole place smells wet. that would be gazpacho, my friend. wondrous. eat your veggies. all of them. at once. LIQUID!