When my next-door neighbour Rosa handed me some tomatoes from her impressive garden - the plants are taller than she is - she had some over-the-fence advice for this veteran chef of 14 years: "Make a salad!"
Rosa, I've got just the salad in mind.
Juicy tomatoes, creamy mozzarella and fragrant basil - the caprese (rhymes with crazy) salad is one of Italy's great gastronomic gifts to the world. Sadly, it has devolved into a menu cliche here in Toronto, served even in winter with cardboard tomatoes and rubbery bocconcini. It's time to put the summer back in caprese.
Caprese is a simple salad and its success rides entirely on the quality of its ingredients.
Tomatoes should be perfectly ripe and include some of the flavourful and colourful heirloom varieties that are available at most farmers markets. Look for green zebra, sungold, black krim, sweet olive, brandywine and yellow taxi.
Traditionally the tomatoes are cut into rounds and overlapped with equivalent slices of mozzarella. Depending on their size, I prefer to cut them into halves or wedges and arrange them on a big white platter. This can be done a few hours ahead, covered in plastic wrap and kept at room temperature. Never, I repeat, NEVER refrigerate tomatoes or their texture will turn to mush.
For the salad to be truly authentic, you need mozzarella di bufala, a fresh cheese made from the milk of water buffaloes in southern Italy's Campania region. Since this cheese is expensive and available only at high-end cheesemongers and gourmet shops, I usually use a product called Mozzarina Mediterrano from Saputo in Quebec. Available at most supermarkets, this cow's milk cheese comes in little bags filled with water to keep it moist. It may not have the flavour of real mozzarella, but has a delicious rich, creamy texture.
Cut the mozzarella into cubes the size of cherry tomatoes and drain on paper towel at room temperature. Season the tomatoes aggressively with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper and top with the cheese.
Olive oil should be the best extra virgin you can afford, preferably something "fruttato" from the south of Italy. Those green, peppery beasts from Tuscany would overpower this delicate dish. Drizzle generously over the salad - a dripless pourer for the top of your bottle will have you drizzling like Mario Batali.
Basil can be torn or roughly chopped, but since these delicate leaves bruise easily, use a sharp knife and do it immediately before serving the salad.
Finally, the cheese - which is often barely salted - needs to be seasoned with some crunchy, sexy sea salt. Flaky maldon from Britain does the trick. This gorgeous salad should be brought to the table with much fanfare, your lucky diners atwitter with anticipation.
Last, but not least, a basket of crusty white bread is an absolute must to Zamboni the plates, platter and cutlery of every drop of tomato juice and fruity olive oil.