Sometimes enjoyment comes down to timing. The sun is shining, there’s a juicy tomato waiting on the windowsill, the sourdough starter is on the rise. Shoulders are hot (maybe sunburned?) but it feels so good to be outside – bare feet crossed under a garden table and elbows leaning on the weathered wooden top. There’s a sandwich held in both hands.
These were tomatoes found at a farm stall and left to turn even redder than they already were – like something out of a ketchup commercial. (They are real, promise!) We stopped on the side of the N7 to share them, swopping cardboard trays between friends’ car boots. The slices were stuffed into split focaccia. There was already oil and salt and frizzled wild rosemary on top so why complicate things?
In retrospect it seems to be the adult take on a childhood summer sandwich: fluffy pre-sliced bread, thinly sliced tomato, salt and white pepper from a shaker. Also good, if mild. Now the sandwich has more chew, more salt – there is capacity for more complexity. If you do feel like complicating things and cooking with some juicy tomatoes waiting on a windowsill, there’s a link below.