This Summer, Eat a Damn Tomato Sandwich
July 2, 2016 - garden totes
Monday is Jul 4, a impulse in my personal circle of a year when we comprehend summer’s already a month left and I’d improved precipitate myself to a open pool once or twice, lest Labor Day hurl around and we feel like we squandered a deteriorate nonetheless again. One of a surefire shortcuts we will take in my track to vibes: frequently eating tomato sandwiches.
God knows, I’m no Martha Stewart, though we tell we with comprehensive certainty that this summer, we should take full advantage of a existence of a tomato sandwich, maybe a world’s many ideal hot-weather food.
Perhaps you’re usually informed with a tomato sandwich by reputation. Maybe we cruise it an oddity for a fan who loves tomatoes too much, or simply an unprepared BLT. Or we remember it mostly as the elite break of a heroine of Harriet a Spy. It’s time to move this pleasure into your life and make it a reality.
I’m not here to make we demeanour like Mario Batali, and if it would stir a cloyed residence guest during a celebration in a Hamptons, we generally do not fuck with it. Hence, we contend that a platonic ideal of a tomato sandwich includes usually 5 ingredients: white bread, tomatoes, mayonnaise, salt, and pepper. That’s it. Don’t get cute.
Be selective with your tomatoes; Jezebel has a series of heirloom tomato believers who insist they’re a usually approach to go. Personally, we cite a breadth of a beefsteak tomato, though while shopping, we should collect adult any possibilities and give them a good sniff. If they don’t smell, they substantially don’t taste, either. Select accordingly.
Of course, to scrupulously live your best summer life, tomatoes should come from a roadside fruit furnish stand, farmers’ market, or backyard garden (preferably your possess or that of a friend/family member). But that’s not an choice for everybody, and as prolonged as your grocery store tomatoes pass a mark test, your sandwich will be a ideal summer pleasure. (My internal grocery store can hardly conduct to batch a shelves with succulent broccoli and they’ve never let me down on a tomato sandwich front.)
Some people, such as Jezebel editor Emma Carmichael, competence advise additions including cheese. Don’t listen to them. They find to lead we astray. This is not a Caprese sandwich. Cheese will simply confuse from a morality that is a hint of this pleasure.
Toast a bread. (Anything though white bread will quarrel too tough with a other flavors.) Slice a tomatoes to your elite density and covering them according to your sandwich hardness preferences; eat. Preferably in a center of a day, in front of a unstable fan or on a porch, while wearing cutoffs or maybe a robust caftan.
Tomatoes are juicy, with a small bit of bite; a mayonnaise feels indulgent, since it’s really bad for you, though during slightest we didn’t eat a hamburger; a toasted bread is a ideal canvas. The salt and peppers knits it all together. It’s a ideal ratio of dampness to crunch.
You could substantially receptacle all a mixture in a cooler to a cruise or on beach trip, arrange sandwiches on a spot, and find yourself immediately nominated for canonization as summer saint by your friends. If not, hell, some-more tomato sandwiches for you.
Perhaps a usually downside of this ludicrously halcyon summer food is that one is too few, while dual is too many. But a resolution is really simple: one whole sandwich and a second half sandwich, done from half a tomato slices and a singular square of folded-over bread. And you’re done! Enjoy your summer.