By Nora found her laugh on Tuesday. Not the early exhaled version—the real laugh, the one with sound, at Liam blowing raspberries at her (Sean's original technique, now inherited). He leaned over her on the floor mat and blew a raspberry and she laughed—genuinely laughed, head back, whole-face—and Liam looked at me with the expression of a person who has just discovered they have power they didn't know about. He blew another one. She laughed again.
He has been making her laugh approximately every opportunity since. The methods he's developed over the week: raspberries, funny voices, a specific face he makes with his eyebrows, holding her hands and bouncing them. He catalogs what works with the methodical efficiency of someone running experiments. She's his study subject and his favorite person simultaneously.
Summer in the apartment with two kids is a different summer than I've had before. The days are full in a way that is both wonderful and completely exhausting—Liam at two and a half has energy that is renewable and inexhaustible and Nora has the energy of someone who is growing very fast and needs to sleep approximately every two hours to do it. The physics of the household are constant.
Caprese salad every other day with the fire escape tomatoes and the good mozzarella. Liam eats the mozzarella. Nora watches. Sean eats everything. I eat standing at the counter because sitting requires more coordination than I currently have. Summer in Boston, the harbor blue outside the window, my family in the kitchen. This is the life. This specific one.
The caprese situation in our apartment this summer became its own kind of ritual — I’d pull tomatoes off the fire escape plants, tear good mozzarella over them, and call it dinner for the third time that week, and no one complained once. This creamy tomato salad is the slightly more dressed-up version of exactly that: same spirit, same ease, same standing-at-the-counter energy, just with a little more going on. On the days when Liam had made Nora laugh six times before noon and the apartment felt very full and very alive, this was the recipe that asked almost nothing of me and gave a lot back.
Creamy Tomato Salad
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 10 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 2 lbs ripe tomatoes (a mix of heirloom and cherry works beautifully), sliced or halved
- 8 oz fresh mozzarella, torn into chunks
- 1/3 cup sour cream or full-fat Greek yogurt
- 2 tablespoons mayonnaise
- 1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
- 1 teaspoon sugar
- 1 small clove garlic, finely grated
- 1/4 cup fresh basil leaves, torn
- 2 tablespoons fresh chives, thinly sliced
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
- Flaky sea salt, for finishing
Instructions
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the sour cream, mayonnaise, red wine vinegar, sugar, and grated garlic until smooth. Season with kosher salt and pepper. Taste and adjust — it should be tangy, creamy, and just a little sweet.
- Season the tomatoes. Arrange the sliced or halved tomatoes on a wide serving platter or in a shallow bowl. Sprinkle lightly with kosher salt and let them sit for 5 minutes to draw out their juices.
- Dress and assemble. Spoon the creamy dressing over the tomatoes, using as much or as little as you like. Scatter the torn mozzarella over the top.
- Finish with herbs. Scatter the torn basil and sliced chives over everything. Finish with a pinch of flaky sea salt and an extra crack of black pepper.
- Serve immediately. This salad is best eaten right away, while the tomatoes are juicy and the dressing is cool. Serve alongside crusty bread to soak up every bit of the dressing.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 220 | Protein: 11g | Fat: 15g | Carbs: 10g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 380mg