When we offered a defense of simple recipes (some might call them "recipes") a couple weeks back, we didn't take into account one particularity of those recipes in question: By many accounts, overloaded tomato sandwiches are not tomato sandwiches at all.
Turns out, there's just as much—if not more—consternation involving tomato sandwiches that are needlessly complicated. The beauty, many adamantly believe, is in the minimalist maximalism. It is more because it is less.
But while we respect the classic and salute the simple, we simply couldn't help ourselves. We let the tomatoes go straight to our heads!
There's the don't-touch-it Southern tomato sandwich on the very left, yes, and then four others that are a little berserk. They're not competitors, though—they're disciples. They follow the same carby-creamy-tomatoey-salty formula, but they're eccentric. You probably wouldn't want to eat them standing over the sink; some might even ask that you bring out a fork and knife.
There are plenty of staunch and smart 3-ingredient-tomato-sandwich defenders out there. Listen to James Beard Award-winning cookbook author (who we thank, especially, for these Genius Deviled Eggs) Virginia Willis when she says that her
hands-down, absolute favorite way of eating a tomato in summer is served sliced on white bread with mayonnaise. No chiffonade of basil or tender leaves of oregano. No artisan sourdough bread. No extra virgin olive oil. No hand-pounded garlic aioli. No hand-harvested sea salt. No lemon zest. Not even a slice of crisp, applewood-smoked bacon. Out, out, damn spots of cracked Tellicherry pepper!
Or to Julia, writer of I Believe I Can Fry, who understands that while
it might be hard to fight the urge to add other ingredients like mustard or cheese or pickle slices, [r]esist the urge. Don't add lettuce or bacon—this is a tomato sandwich, not a BLT. [...] I'm sure these changes/additions make some damn fine sandwiches, but it won't make a Southern tomato sandwich. Just sayin'.
Just feel the FOMO laid on thick in the headnote of the 5-star rated Food.com recipe: "If you've only used tomatoes as an accessory in your sandwiches, and not as the Featured Ingredient, you are truly missing summer as it was meant to be tasted." A smack straight to the stomach.
So the cards are stacked against us. Tomatodirt.com lists four known tomato sandwich debates (peeled versus unpeeled, thickness of slices, bread type, mayo type), and now we've added many, many more. Some of the sandwiches above are even best open-faced. (And is an open-faced sandwich really a sandwich at all? ...Is anything sacred?)
So make, try, and enjoy a simple-as-can-be tomato sandwich. And then, if you're with us (we repeat: tomato sandwich police will never know), you can experiment with a few more elaborate versions, too:
- Fried toast
- Biscuits
- Naan
- Salt and pepper french toast
- Brown butter mayo
- Blistered cherries (cherry tomatoes, that is)
- Roasted tomato jam
- Pickled onions
- Plus all the accessories listed above!
We're not the only loopy ones: Ever since tomatoes cropped up at markets, we've been seeing them slapped on and between slices of bread on our (Not)Recipes app, and you're doing wacko things, too: adding dried thyme; using seedy breads, and even pumpernickel; throwing on some mozzarella cheese; swapping mayo for pesto... Quite a few of you add avocado.
Sliced tomatoes in good olive oil, salt and a roughly chopped clove of garlic. Eaten on freshly baked whole wheat sunflower and flax seed bread from the cute bakery guy at the farmers market.
☀️??#summer #notarecipe #simpleanddelicious
Sourdough, thick tomato slices, mayo, white cheddar, white pepper, lemon salt.
Tomato + balsamic
Honey + cayenne
She toasted bread (pumpernickel, the same size as her tomatoes), smeared it with cream cheese, added tomato slices, and sprinkled them with flaky salt and fresh chives.
Luckily, our appetite for tomatoes is such that we'll happily alternate between the super-classic and the super-creative until the changing seasons stop us.
You buy a tomato with the intention of making a sandwich. What's your next move? Tell us in the comments below.
This article was originally published in 2016, but we can't get enough tomato sandwiches, so we're sharing it again.
Written by: Sarah Jampel
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30 Comments
Nuff said.
But I like this comment, "Quite a few of you add avocado."
DAMN RIGHT WE DO!
That first pic with the article has it right. Though that's a sloppy mayo job. It's got to cover the whole piece of toast. If you're gonna do it, then do it right.
PS: My opinion is the same as yours!
The Peruvian potato that became a staple in Ireland and Europe, Brits discovering tea, distillation introduced to Roman world from Islamic tradition, the introduction of spices, how Crete food was influenced by numerous invaders, and on and on and on. New practices became defining cultural elements by being open to other traditions, or appropriating for their own.
These may all be lovely sandwiches, but they are NOT tomato sandwiches. Soft white bread, Duke's mayo (Hellman's if you can't find Duke's), thick slice(s) of fresh tomato. Period. Change the bread, toast it, or add another or different ingredient, and it becomes something else. You want avocado toast? call it avocado toast. Now, quit screwing around - you've got better things to do than try to convince us that any of those other sandwiches are Tomato Sandwiches.
I probably can speak for everyone here, tomato sandwiches evoke memories of our childhood. My mom always made either grilled cheese or tomato sandwiches with tomato soup. She put onions in the soup and swirled cheese in until it melted. This was a recipe of my grandmother's and was called "Ring Dum Ditty". Don't ask me what that means but it was wonderful.
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