The Vegetarian BLT

Dot turns sixty-seven next week. Another year, another number, another September birthday that arrives with the Lowcountry boil season and the cooling of the air and the turning of the garden from peak to decline. Sixty-seven. I am closer to seventy than sixty now, which is a fact I acknowledge without enthusiasm. Seventy sounds like an institution. Sixty-seven sounds like a woman with opinions. I prefer opinions.

The birthday gathering is planned — yard, family, cake. Kayla is baking again (her cakes are consistently good now — I give credit to practice and to the fact that she no longer calls me three times during the process). The guest list is the usual suspects plus Thomas (he needs a community event that isn't a cooking class) and Mrs. Crawford (she needs to get out of that house more).

My knees are worse this summer. The left one especially — Dr. Morton used the word "inevitable" in our last conversation, as in "knee replacement is inevitable, Dorothy, and the sooner you accept it, the less you'll suffer." I said, "I'm not suffering. I'm persisting." He said, "There's a difference." I said, "Not in my family."

The truth is: the knees are talking. They've been talking for years, but now they're shouting. Stairs are an event. Getting up from the garden is a negotiation. Standing at the stove for long periods requires strategic breaks that I disguise as "checking the mail" or "looking at the marsh." I am sixty-seven and my body is presenting its bill for five decades of standing and kneeling and lifting and carrying. The bill is high. I'm paying it in ibuprofen and stubbornness.

Made fried green tomatoes. The last green ones before they all ripen. Buttermilk, cornmeal, cast iron. Standing at the stove for twenty minutes while my knees filed a formal complaint. The tomatoes were worth it. They're always worth it.

Now go on and feed somebody.

If my knees are going to file a formal complaint every time I stand at the stove, the least I can do is give them a worthy cause — and that last round of green tomatoes certainly qualified. Once those tomatoes ripen and you’ve used up the green ones, this Vegetarian BLT is exactly where the season wants to take you: a proper sandwich built around a tomato that’s earned its place. No meat required when the garden’s doing its job, and no apologies for sitting down the moment you’ve assembled it.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 20 min | Servings: 2

Ingredients

4 slices thick-cut sandwich bread, toasted
2 large ripe tomatoes, sliced 1/4 inch thick
4 strips tempeh bacon (or smoked tempeh), cooked until crisp
4 leaves romaine or butter lettuce
3 tablespoons mayonnaise (or vegan mayo)
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
Salt and black pepper to taste
Optional: 1/2 avocado, sliced

Instructions

Cook the tempeh. Heat a cast iron or nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Cook tempeh bacon strips 3 to 4 minutes per side until browned and crisp. Set aside on a paper towel.
Mix the spread. Stir together mayonnaise, Dijon mustard, and smoked paprika in a small bowl until combined.
Prep the tomatoes. Slice tomatoes and season lightly with salt and pepper. Let them sit on a paper towel for a minute to shed excess moisture.
Toast the bread. Toast bread slices to your preferred level of crunch — a firm toast holds up better against the tomato.
Assemble. Spread the mayo mixture on all four toast slices. Layer lettuce, tomato slices, and crisp tempeh on two slices. Add avocado if using. Top with the remaining toast slices, press gently, and cut diagonally.
Serve immediately. This sandwich is best eaten the moment it’s made — sit down, rest those knees, and enjoy it properly.

Nutrition (per serving)

The Vegetarian BLT — Worth Every Minute on Your Feet