In Search of the Perfect Tomato

The sunshine streams down hot onto the booths at the farmer's market. I walk slowly down the length of the market. Carefully I inspect each pile of tomatoes. At each pile I pick through the marred masses. Finally I lift one while rubbing a thumb across the skin; bringing it to my nose, I take a good whiff. I'm looking for the best. No wrinkles, perfect complexion, great fresh smell. This isn't an easy search!

I complain at one booth, "These have no smell. Are they really ripe?". He replies with a swift movement; grabs a tomato with the stem top still attached, pushes the stem aside and says, "This is the way to smell a tomato". And he's right. The simple act of moving the stem has done the trick. The aroma suddenly comes alive. Sweet, clean, earthy and acidic. The smell is intoxicating. Ah, the fruits of summer!

Most trips to the market yield meager results in the way of tomatoes. I'm often disappointed. Truly, I am a perfectionist when it comes to the tomato. I cannot tolerate mushy, under-ripe, over-ripe, or bland tomatoes. I'm looking for the one with the perfect texture, skin color, and taste. But alas, they are hard to find.

I'm intrigued by the varieties available in mid-summer. Pinky Japanese tomatoes with their low acid taste. Small Romas with their meaty texture. And my new found friend a small, tough-skinned, green-striped variety; which is great in quick cooked pasta sauces (sorry, I don't know the exact name of the variety).

The heirlooms are the most fun to inspect. Their puckered tops and various colors make for such a dazzling display! Sadly, I never find them in good shape. They are usually overripe. Could it be that I don't show up early enough to select the few perfect pieces available?