Farewell, Summer Friend

Well, it's over. Tomato season in north Texas is officially done.

From May to October, I'm at the Dallas Farmers Market about once a week. I go by Lemley's Tomatoes' stand and buy my basket of ripe ruby beautys. (And usually pick up a few cherry tomatoes or heirlooms at the same time.) Usually, we just have them sliced. I dunk them in boiling water for 40 seconds, peel them and slice them. Add a dash of onion salt and a grind of black pepper. Nirvana.

Of course, they're good on a bacon and tomato sandwich also. Cheap white bread with a touch of mayo (both sides please), three slices of microwaved bacon and the tomatoes. Now, there's a summer meal. (Confession: Fritos are the perfect accompaniment.)

So, it's always a bit of a funeral when I know that there are no more tomatoes to be had. Sure, I can get "hothouse" tomatoes all winter long at the grocery store. but they can't ever stand on their own. They have to be buried in a turkey sandwich or diced into a salad. It's just not the same.

So, tonight was my last tomato supper. Three ripe juicy slices with a crumble of goat cheese, a drizzle of olive oil and a sprinkle of cracked black pepper and sea salt. Oh, and a glass of herbaceous Sauvignon Blanc (New Zealand's Spy Valley.)

Summer. farewell. And salud.