
Still Life with Tomatoes, by Peter Nahum.
Recipe below: Tomatoes, Ricotta Salata, and Purslane with a Tomato Marjoram Vinaigrette
This is the first year I’ve grown tomatoes all by myself. I used to help my father with his garden when I was a kid, and I became almost addicted to the aroma of tomato leaves. I couldn’t go near the plants without rubbing a leaf between my fingers to release that unique bittersweet scent. But when I left my childhood home for stranger experiences, tomato plants went out of my life. Living in a New York City apartment for the last 30 years, I haven’t had much land. But now, miraculously, I have a small house. I’ve got tomatoes again, and that gorgeous smell has reentered my life.
My friend Barbara gave me three spindly one-inch-high sprouts that she had started from Italian seeds under the skylight of her Washington Heights apartment. I planted them in what I thought was a big enough terracotta pot and plopped it on my sunny deck. I would have loved to put them directly in the ground, but when I tried to plant some sunflower seeds last spring I discovered that the soil around my house is about 90 percent stone (some of the stones really huge) and 10 percent rock-hard clay. Next year I’ll get around to building some raised beds.
We’ve had a lot of rain this summer, and good sun. My Principe Borghese cherry, Calabrian grape, and Italian mystery tomatoes all look happy, but they possibly feel the strain of being intertwined. Had I known the little things would grow to seven feet tall in only two months, I would have put them in something bigger. Now they’re a crazy tangle of stalks, bending, a few sadly breaking, with the weight of tier after tier of little green fruits, some just starting to show pinkish orange or, in the case of my Principe Borgheses, turning a deep bluish red. I’ve staked the robust things several times, but they’ve just kept shooting up. When they got truly out of control, I asked Barbara what to do, and she said to tie them to the railing. Now they’re all tumbling over the deck in a beautiful cascade. I can’t tell one variety from another. I suppose it’ll all work out, but it’s making me anxious.
While I wait for my tomato drama to unfold, I’ve been buying all sorts of varieties from farm stands. There’s nothing I love better tomato wise than a tomato salad with a tomato vinaigrette. Tomatoes two ways: It’s the way to go in the summer when you just can’t get enough of the gorgeous fruits.

My tomato plants.
Tomatoes, Ricotta Salata, and Purslane with a Tomato Marjoram Vinaigrette
(Serves 4)
For the vinaigrette:
1 large, round red summer tomato, peeled, seeded, and roughly chopped
Salt
A big pinch of ground allspice
½ a small, fresh garlic clove
1½ tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon verjuice* or rice wine vinegar
5 sprigs marjoram, the leaves chopped
Plus:
5 medium heirloom tomatoes, in a nice mix, sliced into not-too-thin rounds
A handful of purslane
About 15 basil leaves
¼ pound ricotta salata
Salt
Black pepper
*Verjuice is the juice from pressed unripe grapes. It’s sour but not as acidic as most vinegars. I use it when I need a little acid, not the big jolt many vinegars provide. It’s especially nice with summer tomatoes, as it heightens their taste without being too puckering. Rice wine vinegar is another way to go with tomatoes. I don’t think red wine vinegar has any right to dress a great tomato.
To make the vinaigrette, put the chopped tomato in a strainer, sprinkle on a little salt, and let it drain for about 20 minutes, saving the tomato water. Then place the tomato, the allspice, chopped garlic, olive oil, and verjuice or rice vinegar in a food processor, and pulse until well blended and quite smooth. Pour the tomato mix into a little bowl. Add the marjoram and a bit more salt, if needed. If the vinaigrette is too thick, add a little of the tomato water. Taste for a good balance of acidity and sweetness, and correct, if needed, with a few drops more verjuice or rice vinegar, or a little sugar, depending.
Lay the purslane around the circumference of a curved oval or round platter. Arrange the tomato slices in a circular pattern to fill the inside area. Stick the basil leaves here and there between the tomato slices. Season with a little salt.
Drizzle the vinaigrette over the tomatoes. Now shave or slice the ricotta salata over the tomatoes, using as much or as little as you like. Finish with a good amount of black pepper.
Beautiful tomatoes. Great recipe.
7 ft Tall! Mama Mia I’m so excited for you! Your father is getting a big kick out of your tomato plants from “Real Itly,” as Carmella would say.
Can’t wait to see and hear how each variety tastes. So so rewarding. Question: did your Dad prune his tomato plants of the stems that don’t produce fruit? I have trouble with that botanical science. Looked on Internet, seemed logical, but I needed an expert beside me to show me. I’ll bet there are several schoools of thought on this. Hey, if you get lots of tomatoes, who cares? I’m so glad the “Real Itly” seeds are HAPPY in New York soil and sun and water.
Hi Sandra, So far, so great with the tomatoes. I’ve also got tons of flaming hot chilies that my macho brother planted for me, and those are doing well too. I’m excited. My father always fussed and picked at his tomatoes. I think he’d remove small stems near the base, saying they took energy away from the fruit. My friend Barbara’s father (another Italo guy) always did that too. I’d have to research if this is really productive or not, but it sounds right.