Last week I had my first tomato, basil and mozzarella salad of 2008. The Caprese is not a dish I order in restaurants before summer comes, though I do buy tomatoes at the grocery store through the fall, winter and early spring. Barbera Kingsolver' s book “Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life,”which details her experience living on purely home grown or local produce makes me feel very guilty about buying out of season, indeed. But, when the urge for self-deprivation and food -inclined righteousness strikes, I remind myself that we can' t all live on our own 20 acre estates, slaughter our own hogs, grow, harvest, can or freeze our own produce and survive on it all winter. If I had a book deal and inherited a farm in the rolling hills of Virginia, maybe I' d find the motivation for that, too.


Someday I will regret saying this I' m sure—and when that day comes, I' ll be the righteous locavore who only eats in season thanks to a huge, well-stocked and financed barnyard and garden. That will be a lovely day. But for now, I buy tomatoes at the grocery store year 9 months a year, feeding the demonic, gas guzzling chain of industrialized farming. 
Thanks to Houston' s heavy heat and the hydroponic practices of some local farmers, I can extend my food halo to encompass about 5 months of saintly, regional eating this year—at least where tomatoes are concerned. The toms arrived at the farmer' s market last week, and I was able to enjoy my first real taste of 2008.
I buy tomatoes to roast into salsas or throw into Greek salads when I am sinning and eating imported toms during the off-season. I wouldn' t deign serve or be served a simple tomato-based dish from the winter vine. Which is why, when your salad has three ingredients, it' s essential that the most important component be in superb condition. Hence, my avoidance of Capreses until the warm months arrive.

This year my inaugural salad was served chopped and mixed into greens to accompany a plate of roasted peppers and a simple salmon with lemon. I didn' t want the Caprese to overshadow the rest of the food, and I wanted the basil to stand out as a unique surprise—the telltale taste of this summer dish.
There were plain peaches for desert. I thought of buying some vanilla ice cream as a bed for the sliced fruit, but decided that it would only complicate matters. With peaches like these, it’s best not to interfere.




