I'm all hot and bothered and heirloom tomatoes are to blame. Not complaining, oh no. The French had it right, these are "apples of love."
If you've never had an heirloom tomato, you probably have no idea why folks like me get into a lather this time of year.
The French had it right when they named this noble fruit. Even though my compound butter was deemed "Better than Sex", I bow to a perfectly ripe, heirloom tomato. But we need proper introductions before we begin.
Mr. Stripey meet Paul Robeson. Tigerella meet Pleated Zapotec. Black Krim meet Copia. This could actually be an interesting drinking game...but seriously, these are all names of the season's first heirloom tomatoes.
Like an overheated teenager, I'm fairly bursting with anticipation, eager for that first juicy, mouth-filling, mind-boggling, toe-curling heirloom tomatoes experience.
I must tell you this is one of the most life-changing experiences one might have with food. Many of us grew up with tomatoes of one sort: reddish-orange, from the supermarket, with about the same texture and flavor as, say...cotton, or Styrofoam. Ho hum, so this is a tomato?
Then there comes the first flash of possibility...perhaps Mom throws a cherry tomato plant in the ground next the house. Perhaps a neighbor brings over a couple of extra tomatoes from their garden. When this new thing, the garden tomato, hits your tongue - you will never be the same. It is a revelation.
Think of the transformation between the time when kissing seems "yucky" and the moment when we have our first real kiss. Mm-hm...somewhere in the deepest regions of our, um, well, let's say, consciousness, something goes "Oh! That's what all the fuss is about. Now I get it..!" All of a sudden, life makes sense.
So, if you can resist eating them unadorned, (and I take no position on this), here are a couple of my favorite ways to enjoy heirloom tomatoes:
But why bother, a little slice of heaven with a few flakes of sea salt, really almost all a girl needs to be happy. Phew, going to go cool down now...