Heirloom tomatoes, late summer/early fall
{sweet, tart, and juice–concentrated droplets of sunshine}
At this time of year, farmers’ 
markets are full of tomatoes in every hue, shape, size and flavor, from the tiniest ones, the size of currants, to the oval grape-shaped varieties and small bulbous pointed plum tomatoes. The supply doesn’t seem to be decreasing but I know for sure that soon that these fragrant gems will be gone until next summer.
While they last, never tiring of their sweet/tart sunny flavor profiles, I throw them into salads, quickly roast them with nothing more than good olive oil, salt, pepper, and perhaps a shallot or fine fleck of fresh garlic. Or oven dry them and then bake them into a quick rustic galette, enclosing them with a buttery pastry and spooning some fresh ricotta over them as they emerge golden and bubbling from the oven. Or whirl them in a blender into a quick gazpacho with some olive oil, garlic, stale bread, salt and pepper and enjoy the cold soup in icy bowls that have spent time in the freezer. When paired with toasted croûtes of French country bread, a salad of piquant baby greens (the spicy mix nowadays readily available in your local supermarkets, Trader Joe’s, or Whole Foods store), lightly coated with a mustardy vinaigrette dressing, and served with a glass of rosé wine, this celebration of the essence of tomato serves as the centerpiece for a light, satisfying and easy dinner.
