Peach Heirloom Tomato and Burrata Salad

The heat this week was personal. Ninety-eight degrees on Wednesday. The air was wet and heavy and the whole city was moving underwater. The community center was an oven — the air conditioning gave up on Tuesday, just quit, the way I'd like to quit some days but don't because people are counting on me. Seventy-four children showed up Wednesday and I served them sandwiches and fruit because I was not going to turn on a stove in a building with no AC. Cold food. Safe food. Fed children. That's the priority list and it doesn't change.

The quiet girl was there, eating her sandwich in her corner with her friend, and for the first time I saw her laugh. Not a smile — a laugh. Her head went back and her mouth opened and the sound came out, and I stood behind the counter with a lump in my throat because I have been watching this child for two years and I have never heard her laugh. I don't know what her friend said. I don't need to. The laugh was enough. The laugh was everything.

At home, Earl and I are surviving the heat the way we always do — windows open at night, fans going, sweet tea by the gallon. Earl doesn't handle the heat well anymore. His heart works harder when it's hot, and I watch him the way you watch a pot on the stove — not staring, but aware. Always aware. He sat in his recliner with the fan pointed at him and watched game shows and I brought him water every hour whether he asked for it or not. He said, "Dot, I'm not going to dehydrate." I said, "Earl, you're going to drink this water or I'm going to pour it on your head." He drank it.

I made a watermelon salad this week. No cooking. Just cold, sweet watermelon cut in chunks, with feta cheese crumbled on top, fresh mint from the garden, a squeeze of lime, and a drizzle of olive oil. I know it sounds strange — watermelon and cheese — but trust me, baby. The salt of the feta against the sweet of the melon, the cool mint, the bright lime — it's summer in a bowl. Hattie Pearl would have been suspicious. She was suspicious of any cheese that wasn't cheddar. But I have expanded my horizons since 1955, and feta has earned its place on my table.

Now go on and feed somebody. And drink water. I mean it.

I described my watermelon feta salad up above, and I mean every word — but this peach and burrata salad is the same spirit, the same philosophy: sweet fruit, creamy or salty cheese, fresh herbs, a little acid, and not one lick of heat required. On a week when the air conditioning quit and seventy-four children needed feeding and Earl needed watching, the last thing I was putting my hands near was a stove. This salad is for every sweltering Wednesday when you still want to feed people something beautiful.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 15 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

3 ripe peaches, pitted and sliced into wedges
2 medium heirloom tomatoes (about 1 lb), cut into irregular chunks
8 oz fresh burrata cheese (2 small balls), torn open
1/4 cup fresh basil leaves, torn
2 tablespoons fresh mint leaves, torn
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon white balsamic vinegar or fresh lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon flaky sea salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper
Optional: 1 teaspoon honey if peaches need a little help

Instructions

Prep the fruit. Slice the peaches into generous wedges and cut the heirloom tomatoes into rustic, uneven chunks — no need for perfection here. Arrange them together on a wide, shallow serving platter.
Add the burrata. Nestle the burrata balls among the fruit, then tear them open gently so the creamy center spills out over the peaches and tomatoes. This is the good part.
Dress the salad. Drizzle the olive oil and white balsamic vinegar evenly over everything. If your peaches are a little under-ripe or flat, add a light drizzle of honey now.
Finish with herbs and seasoning. Scatter the torn basil and mint over the top. Season generously with flaky sea salt and cracked black pepper. Taste and adjust — it may want a little more salt or another squeeze of lemon.
Serve immediately. This salad does not wait well. Bring it to the table right away, with good crusty bread on the side if you have it, and let people serve themselves from the platter.

Nutrition (per serving)

Peach Heirloom Tomato and Burrata Salad — No-Cook Summer in a Bowl, Just Like Dorothy Makes It