“It is difficult to think anything but pleasant thoughts while eating a homegrown tomato.” ~ Lewis Grizzard, Jr., American writer and humorist (1946-1994)
When we were comparing our bicycle riding log from this year to last year (we’ve ridden a little over 1,200 miles on the tandem so far, but far less than last year individually), we noted that after the end of September 2009, we only got in 3 more rides. Pretty soon we’ll be spinning away on the trainers set up in the living room and dreaming of the trips we took.
Unusually hot and humid weather interfered with cycling, but it sure did amazing things to our tomato crop. Just two plants have produced all that we have needed, and they have been especially sweet. Now, they are coming in so fast, that memory of eating the first one while still standing in the garden is getting foggier all the time.
Likewise, farmer’s markets will soon be a memory and we’ll be relegated to choosing tomatoes that have spent as much time on a truck as they have spent in the fields, or trading them in for canned. Before that happens, here is one more recipe that celebrates the bounty of summer.
I recently saw this salad in a grocery store deli counter for $7.99/pound. Here, we make it for less than $3.00/pound – and even less if any of the ingredients come from the garden.
Tomato-Cucumber Salad
Makes: about 3 cups
Time: 5 minutes
¼ seedless cucumber, peeled with thin strips remaining
2 tomatoes, cored and seeded
¼ cup fresh basil or mint leaves
¼ cup sliced, pitted olives
1 teaspoon full-flavored olive oil
Coarse ground salt and pepper to taste
Cut the cucumber and tomatoes into bite-size chunks, and coarsely chop the basil or mint, leaving some small leaves whole. Toss all the ingredients together in a bowl, being generous with the salt and pepper. Serve at room temperature.
Accompany this salad with some crusty bread and hummus to make a complete meal for 2, or serve 4 as a side dish to whatever you have on the grill. Like a particularly good summer, some flavors should linger in your memory so vividly, that you can still taste them in December.





