Hello from newsletter No. 27. It’s good to have a flurry of new subscribers here.
If you’re reading this, chances are you’re already a subscriber, a fellow follower of all that is exciting and engaging about the world of baking, from whole grains to seasonal fruit and flavour-forward ingredients.
If this is your first time here, you can expect musings, commentary, ideas and inspiration concerning the act and art of baking, including its more esoteric bits and pieces.
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Subscribers to the ‘Extra Credit’ portion of the newsletter will find a back catalogue of recipes and resources in previous newsletters, many of which transcend the seasons for all-around applicability.
Summer is marked by all kinds of off-the-cuff recipes; the heat and humidity at times make constructing a proper meal arduous and a labour you can do without. Often the best things are eaten out of hand over the sink, in the garden, at the park or beach on itchy crumb and sand-filled picnic rugs. The tomato sandwich is one such thing. Find yourself in any of these situations in peak summer, and you can fashion yourself a meal by sandwiching a ripe tomato between two slices of bread.
Sure, the ultimate version requires you to be one of those people that carries a little pot of flaky salt in your bag wherever you go, but if you’re here, reading this, chances are you are that person. If away from your kitchen, a law-abiding small sharp knife facilitates and eases the assembly process but isn’t necessary.
My ideal tomato for slicing to sandwich or snack on is undoubtedly a beefsteak variety. Beefsteaks are irregular in size, shape and colour and make up a small proportion of the tomatoes consumed and produced here in the UK, their arrival on my summer scene is a joyous one, and this year, we’ve had a ready supply of perfect golden orbs. Thinly sliced, sprinkled with salt and layered between two slices of bread, it is a simplicity that belies the complex flavour and aroma compounds that make this sandwich so satisfying.
Tomatoes are loaded with so much glutamic acid that they rival parmesan and meat in their savouriness, delivering that satiating dose of umami. This is coupled with citric and malic acids alongside natural sugars to round off the edges.
The overall flavour is dependent on the proportions of the constituent parts of a tomato, and a good beefsteak variety has just the right flesh-to-juice ratio; what little water there is falls away on slicing, leaving a thick jelly encapsulating seeds that cling to the firm flesh.
When it comes to the bread, you want something that will catch and cradle precious juice and flavour and stand up to any risk of sog. At the same time, you do not want to eliminate a soft, absorbent crumb; it’s the most accepting sponge for the job. A fresh baguette or ciabatta are vessels that will serve you well, but soft slices are not off the cards, but toasting one side of each piece to become the outside is worthwhile.
Assuming you have good bread, good tomatoes and good salt, then additions are not required. Some might demand mayonnaise or a little garlic aioli, but for me, they are surplus to requirement. I’m not averse to playing around with seasoning, though and Espelette Pepper is welcome at the party. I’d even jump on this suggestion from Eric Kim to add the seaweed-spiked Furikake. It stands to reason that this is a cunning move as seaweed harbours sulphur compounds and furans not dissimilar to those found in tomatoes.
If the tomatoes don’t meet expectations on the flavour front, then coax them along a little. Acidity can be dialled up with a bit of sherry vinegar, or balsamic is a remedy if sweetness needs a helping hand.
No beefsteaks, no problem; many otherworldly variations of tomato and bread can be enjoyed during summer.
Tomatoes that are too soft to make the perfect slice should be earmarked for Panzanella…beyond stale bread, capers and basil are a must.
Commercially grown larger varieties with tough skins can make a worthy salad but require a little more cajoling. Use a sharp pairing knife to score the base with a cross, just enough to break the skin; pour over boiling water and leave for a few minutes. Peel the tomato and cut it into slices, removing any tough core. Dress with shallots marinated in sherry vinegar, a good dose of sea salt and lots of olive oil; prepare at least 20 minutes before serving. The salt, vinegar and time work to tame the aggressive edges of the shallots and extract juice from the tomato, which combines with the olive oil, leaving a pool of liquor to be mopped by bread.
Roma, Ramallet and plum varieties with lots of flesh and little juice can be halved and grated; discard the tough skin and season well, spread onto thick slices of hot griddled bread (rubbing the bread with raw garlic first is optional but a sure-fire way to boost umami), anoint with your best EVOO for Pan Con Tomate.
For those of you subscribed to the Extra Credit portion of the newsletter, I’m sharing one from the archives, a recipe for Wholewheat, Honey & Stone Fruit Cobbler. And after all this talk of tomatoes, I got an itch to refashion it into a savoury breakfast affair with blistered toms and herb-heavy cobbles.
Have you got a favourite way with tomatoes? Have any varieties you look out for where you are? I’d love to hear it all. Share in the comments below.