Recipes From A Tiny Kitchen

“How Much For That Tomato?”

By Kellie Tabron

One warm summer afternoon, I was sauntering through Union Square’s famed Farmer’s Market. Some people spend their lunch hour over sandwiches bitching about the boss with co- workers. On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I stroll from 14^th to 16^th street hoping to discover some new culinary find that will bring dinner, or tomorrow’s breakfast or lunch alive.

On this particular day, I came across a cleanly scrubbed young man of 20 or so in a sparsely populated booth at the north end of the market. There was something appealing about his tiny, simple booth, among the other larger booths filled to the brim with greens, herbs, root vegetables, and the last of the summer blueberries. It was just him and oddly shaped red and yellow forms that I didn’t recognize.

I felt kind of sorry for him. He looked like a kid with a lemonade stand perched between Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s. No one was stopping at his booth. So I approached. “What are these?” I asked looking down at the table, where I read a hastily written red crayon sign “heirloom tomatoes.”

“The best tomatoes on earth,” he replied, smiling, his eyes twinkling in the afternoon sun. “Really?” Now as a nearly 30-year resident of New York City, there’s not much you can convince me of. Plus, I have a natural aversion to the sales pitch. I assume if you are trying to convince me of something you have either an ulterior motive or you’re lying. My usual “big fat liar” alarm had been tripped. But he was young and a farmer, a purveyor of the local food all good citizens are supposed to support. “Why is that?” I asked, adding in my own sweet native of upstate NY smile, even though inside I was thinking “please dude, I am not a tourist.”

He went on to explain that heirloom tomatoes are nothing like grocery store bought or even other tomatoes at the farmer’s market. Grown from non-hybrid seeds, he said his tomatoes had been in his family for generations, the seeds passed to him from his grandparents. “Ok, yeah, your grandparents” I said, as I inspected the weird looking growths.” They didn’t look like the gorgeous, uniform red globes I carefully packed in my bag along with my gym clothes and my silver coffee thermos on my way home from work after a usual visit to the market. They looked, well frankly, weird.

But as a self proclaimed “foodie” and a most times vegetarian, I love to discover new finds at the market. Cooking is a passion and a lovely relaxing way to end the day for me. I thought to myself, “he’s a nice kid, why not try them?” I chose two that fit in the palm of my hand. I already had a head of crispy, bright green romaine in my sack. I could slice them over the greens and drizzle with some with a bit of olive oil, salt and pepper. I’d have them for dinner, with a buttery Sancerre I had chilling in the fridge at home.

I handed him my two new discoveries and reached in my pocket for a crumpled mess of singles I had shoved away after my purchase at the egg stand. “$5.50,” he said as he handed me the small brown paper bag.

“Wha huh?”

“For two tomatoes?!!! Are they fertilized with gold?” My “do I look like an idiot to you?” meter was screaming now.

He just laughed. “Yes, they are a little more expensive than standard tomatoes, but I promise you, you have never tasted anything like these.”

I could feel the smirk of disbelief spread across my face as I continued to grip the five singles in my hand and dig for change, still not sure I was going to part with any of it. 

“Ok, listen,” ok, now what is he going to say? That they will jump and sing a song when I cut them? As they well should for nearly $3 a piece! “If you take these home, and eat them today, and they aren’t the best tomatoes you’ve ever eaten, come back on Friday and I’ll give your money back.”

Ok whatever, I had to get back to the office. “Sure,” I said, taking my bag and walking away in disgust muttering to myself that I had just been had by a crazy kid tomato swindler. I didn’t want to seem cheap, but really? It's like those $1000 mushrooms they write about in the NYTimes Food Section at Thanksgiving time, is it really necessary to pay that much for something that will end up, forgive me for being crass, but in the crapper?

I arrived home that night starving. I tore into my bag of two strange looking tomatoes, washed them and set them aside while I washed, dried, and tore apart the bright green romaine leaves and placed them on a pretty light blue Pfaltzgraf plate, the only surviving member of a 6-piece setting my sister had given me before I ever moved to NYC.

I set one heirloom on the carving board and sliced it thinly, placing the orangish slivers atop the greens. After drizzling a bit of fruity, olive oil, salt and pepper, I sat down, took a good long look at my plate.  The slices were very pretty, bright in color, gorgeous in fact. The inside was meaty, not watery like grocery store tomatoes can sometimes be.

I cut a sliver of the tomato and lettuce, and lifted the fork up to the light. You better be good I said as I gently took a bite. The explosion of flavor was immediate and intense. Tomato boy was right. I had never tasted anything like it, sweet but tangy, with a firm texture, the flavor lay lightly and lingered on my tongue the way a fine wine does. Just as he said I would, I thought to myself “now that’s a tomato.” They tasted just like you think a tomato should, but never does.

I am now what you might call and Heirloom Tomato junkie. At least once a week in summer I troll the market looking for orange, yellow, red, green, and purple varieties. They are weird looking for sure, but they taste, to me, like summer. Just this afternoon I bought a small carton of plum sized ones and the purchase reminded me of that very first day. They are delicious eaten on their own, or just with olive oil, salt, and pepper. But if you’d like to make a meal, here are a few recipes to try. They will work with any tomato, but heirlooms are the best!

Poached eggs and tomato salad

Cut tomatoes in small bite sized pieces and place in a bowl.

Chop red onion

Add a handful of fresh basil

Drizzle with olive oil, balsamic vinegar (or lemon) salt and pepper to taste

Poach an egg or two, drain and place on a plate

Spoon tomato mixture over the top.

Serve alone or with a piece of crispy toast.
 

Tomato Egg Toast

Make Tomato salad recipe from above.

Take a piece of your favorite bread and pull out the center so you have a good sized hole in the middle.

Heat up a skillet and drizzle it with olive oil and add a small bit of butter.

Place the bread in the skillet.

Crack an egg into the hole of the bread and let the egg cook and set.

In one motion, flip the bread and egg over with a spatula so the egg can cook and the bread can brown on the other side.

Once cooked, remove the toast and egg, place on a plate.

Dot the egg toast with a bit of feta or goat cheese. (if desired)

Spoon the tomato mixture over top of the toast. Serve with green salad or fruit.

Enjoy!