In praise of the tomato

Nothing says summer to me more than a garden-fresh tomato.

Corn on the cob and homemade ice cream have their place on the summertime table, but for me there is nothing like a tomato right out of the garden.

I remember standing at my mom's kitchen sink when I was a kid, eating whole tomatoes still warm from the sun. I have even fonder memories of grilled burgers and BLTs and pimiento cheese sandwiches with thick slabs of tomato from my dad's garden.

In those days, the vines along the fence behind our house hung heavy with tomatoes all summer. Mom set out a platter of sliced tomatoes with every meal (tomatoes with breakfast, mmm), and she canned whole tomatoes, homemade spaghetti sauce, and tomato juice so we could enjoy the bounty all winter. Dad doesn't do much gardening any more, but he still has a few tomato plants. He starts them from pots in the spring and tends them indoors until it's time to plant them outside.

My favorite thing to do with summer tomatoes is to cut them up in bite-size chunks and put them in a pretty glass bowl with some sea salt and plenty of freshly ground black pepper. If I'm feeling fancy, I might toss in some thinly sliced basil and a drizzle of good olive oil.

Usually, though, I keep it simple. Some things are close to perfect just the way they are.