Tomatoes are one of those fruits where home-grown is simply, unquestionably, tastier than anything that can be bought at even the most luxurious shop. I love watching them swell and slowly turn yellow, red or purple on the tangled vines. One of the greatest pleasures in life is picking a fruit just at the moment when the skin is about to rupture with sun-ripened sugar; popping it into your mouth and letting it burst open.
At its best, a single tomato can provide a perfect balance of floral sweetness, acidity and umami; sometimes with subtle grassy or spicy notes. What you choose to do with tomatoes will emphasise different qualities. Balsamic vinegar brings out the sweetness and acidity; basil amplifies the spiciness; olive oil the grassiness. But a good tomato needs little, if anything, to improve it.
I'm going away tomorrow for a couple of weeks on holiday. I've asked my neighbour to water the plants and pick any fruit as it ripens, but for supper this evening I stripped the vines of all the ripe fruit and made open sandwiches. As well as the tomatinis I mentioned in a previous post, I discovered two tomatoes attached to a single stem, like identical twins. Twin tomatoes. Tom tomatoes. Tom...atoes.
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Anyway. I cut a baguette in half and buttered it. I rinsed the tomatoes (spiders like to make webs in the vines) and sliced them in half. I piled them onto the bread and added a few torn basil leaves and a sprinkling of seasalt.
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