It’s easy to take ketchup for granted. To just assume it will always be there. But once our all-American burger and fries arrive, if we don’t have ketchup we have a problem.
These are the gazpacho days of summer, when anyone can be a vegetarian with barely an effort. Even the most dedicated carnivore might find themselves satisfied, at the end of a meat-free meal, and not even realize it. I’m that way with Greco Roman Caprese.
The middle of winter can be a tough time for tomato lovers. We are about as far away from the end of last season as we are from the beginning of this summer’s harvest, and no member of the produce kingdom suffers such a noticeable lack of flavor when it’s imported, out of season, from some faraway place.
A properly put together BLT is the Bruce Lee of sandwiches. It’s lean and light and full of fight.
When August hits, I make a point to enjoy summer like it’s going out of season. Some of my favorite ways of doing so involve tomatoes, and I treat it like my job to eat a year’s worth of the ripest, juiciest, most delicious tomatoes I can get my face on.
The brief, glorious moment when tomatoes are everywhere marks the culinary apex of summer. This drawn-out, tomato-ey solstice is especially fleeting for heirloom tomatoes, the high-maintenance wing of the tomato clan. Too watery and delicate to preserve, heirlooms can only be enjoyed raw. Which means they must be enjoyed now.