Horiatiki (The Real Greek Salad)

Hello friends.

Our rainy summer has made for a very slow growing season, so I'm just now beginning to get tomatoes trickling in from the garden. I have 12 or so heirloom varieties this year, including some old favorites (Black Krim, Cherokee Purple, Yellow Pear, Sungold, etc.) and some that are new to me (White Cherry and Old German, for example).

So far, the blue ribbon goes to the burgundy and dark green Black Krim. What a tomato. Dense, meaty, sweet, gorgeous and complex. It's the best fruit I've had this summer (forgive me, Western Slope Bing Cherries; you're a close second).

Now I know that fresh tomatoes make most people dream of Caprese, and why not? This layered meeting of tomato, basil and mozzarella fresca is a dreamy mouthful of summer. But if you're looking for a different way to feature your garden tomatoes this year (or would love to get another vegetable into your salad) may I suggest Horiatiki (ho-ree-AH-tee-key)?

I discovered Horiatiki when I spent several months studying history, art history and archaeology in Greece in 1989 and 1990. This is the true Greek salad, marked by the absence of salad greens, olives, peppers and other such nonsense. In Greece, most Horiatikis (country salads) consist of a simple blend of sliced tomatoes, sliced cucumbers, feta cheese, olive oil and salt and pepper (see my recipe below).

The combination makes sense. Though the industrial food machine would have us think that fresh salad greens are a year round affair, gardeners know that arugula, mesclun blend and the like can't handle the heat of the summer; they're really a delicacy of spring—and sometimes fall. The Horiatiki takes full advantage of two of summer's best producers: tomatoes and cukes. (Now, if only we could figure out a way to add zucchini!)

Before I share my recipe, let me add just one note on behalf of the poor, misunderstood tomato: please, my friends, never refrigerate this fine fruit. Chilling ruins the texture and takes the flavor right out. If your tomatoes are as good as mine, set them in the fruit bowl or in a shady spot on the counter, and they'll disappear long before they have the slightest chance of rotting.

These days, I make my Horiatiki this way:

Horiatiki

Combine equal parts cut up tomato (with juice) and cucumber pieces.
Top with crumbled feta cheese.
Drizzle with olive oil.
Season with sea salt and fresh ground pepper.