As the summer heat reaches its peak and long afternoon shadows stretch across the landscape, tomatoes begin appearing in gardens and farm stands everywhere. I have a hard time remembering a summer without the taste of a perfectly ripe tomato. To me, this is one of the most magical moments of the growing season.
Tomatoes were the first thing I ever tried to grow, nearly 20 years ago. The inspiration came during an evening walk through my grandfather-in-law's farm near Bates City, Missouri. His tomato plants stood tall; like they belonged in a landscape painting. He shared a few secrets: build healthy plants, feed them with chicken manure, calcium and potassium in the spring — and don't be afraid to stress them a little. A struggling tomato plant, he said, often produces the best fruit.
Since then I've grown everything from Sun Gold cherries — my youngest son's favorite — to Cherokee Purple, Black Beauty, Beefsteak and the legendary Mortgage Lifter, a variety developed by Marshall "Radiator Charlie" Byles and sold during the Great Depression to pay off his mortgage.
When tomatoes are this good, they don't need much. Thick slices sprinkled with flaky salt are nearly perfect. Maybe a little cracked pepper or a drizzle of good olive oil, but only enough to let the tomato remain the star.
Then there's the BLT. Fresh bread, crisp lettuce, smoky bacon, ripe tomatoes seasoned with salt and pepper, and just enough mayonnaise. It's the taste of late summer — a simple sandwich that reminds me how extraordinary ordinary ingredients can be.
