If anything can make me feel better after a couple of weeks of emergency after emergency, it would be the sight of tomatoes. That, to me, is summer dressed in it’s finery.
Being absent from the greenmarket was FELT. A single step outside of Union Square train station and I was already overwhelmed with the beauty of it all. At least 8 farmstands showcased my loves. I saw super tiny yellow ones called currant tomatoes and I almost lost my mind. And all my money.
I came home with yellow and blushing heirlooms and I wanted to have them simply. I would’ve just took a bite out of one if I was not sharing with a few others (that’s how simply I wanted to have them). But I aim to share.
The dressing is an infused olive oil with fresh orange, herbs, garlic, and capers that become so crispy you could snack on them alone.
If you can do without the fresh orange juice, add a bit of white balsamic instead. Be sure to give the capers a good rinse, to dull down the salt, then lay them out on a paper towel to dry before frying them. You might have some infused oil left over, which isn’t a bad thing. Save it for something else. As for the tomatoes, they’ll be gone by the end of the meal (or before).
Heirloom Tomatoes with Fried Caper Dressing – Serves 4
-2 tbs capers, rinsed
-1/4 cup good quality olive oil
-3 long strips of orange zest
-2 leafy sprigs of oregano or thyme (or 4 if small/thin)
-1 garlic clove, smashed
-couple of fresh squeezes of an orange
-3-4 heirloom tomatoes, sliced
-feta, fresh herbs, optional for serving
Heat a small pan and pour in your olive oil. When ready, add your capers, herbs, and garlic. Saute for about a minute before adding your orange zest. Here’s an in-action shot:
Fry til the capers begin to burst (this happens quickly so keen an eye out). Take off heat. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the capers to a bowl or plate lined with a paper towel. In another bowl, pour in the infused olive oil. When cool, add a couple of squeezes of orange juice or white balsamic. You can dress the tomatoes ahead of time but save the capers for when everyone’s ready to dig in.
I haven’t had the nerve to slice the heart-shaped tomato yet. I’ve 3 heirlooms left and I might just dress them in the leftover infused oil, or take that selfish bite.