Heirloom and Slicing Tomatoes: The Art of Eating Summer at Its Peak

This Is the Week Tomatoes Ask Everything of You

There's a narrow window every summer when tomatoes stop being an ingredient and start being a meal. That window is right now. The heirloom and slicing tomatoes coming into Open Air Market Produce Stand this week are the kind that make you forget you ever bought a tomato from a grocery store — deeply colored, heavy with juice, and so fragrant you can smell summer on your hands after you pick one up.

Heirloom varieties wear their personalities on the outside. You'll find them in shades that range from burnished burgundy to sunset orange to creamy yellow-green, each with its own distinct flavor profile. Some are sweet and low-acid with a rich, almost wine-like depth. Others are bright and tangy with a snap that wakes up your whole palate. Slicing tomatoes, meanwhile, bring that classic, crowd-pleasing tomato flavor — firm enough to hold up on a sandwich, juicy enough to run down your wrist when you bite in. Both are worth getting your hands on before the season turns.

How to Choose a Tomato Worth Taking Home

Picking a great tomato is less about looking and more about feeling and smelling. At a real produce stand like ours on Barbourville Road, you get to do exactly that — no plastic clamshell packaging in the way. When you're choosing, give the tomato a gentle squeeze. It should yield slightly under pressure, not feel rock-hard or mushy. A tomato that's too firm hasn't finished developing its sugars; one that's too soft won't make it home in one piece.

Then lean in and smell the stem end. A ripe tomato — especially an heirloom — has a green, earthy, almost herbal scent at the top. That smell is one of the truest indicators of flavor. If it smells like nothing, it'll taste like nothing. If it smells like a summer garden, take it home and eat it today.

For slicing tomatoes, look for even color from shoulder to blossom end and avoid ones with deep cracks or sunken spots. A few surface cracks near the stem are normal on heirlooms and don't affect flavor at all — they're just a sign the tomato grew fast after a good rain. Don't let those pass you by.

The Tomato Plate: The Recipe That Isn't Really a Recipe

If you want to taste the best of what's available right now at our produce stand in London, KY, the most honest thing you can do is make a tomato plate. Slice two or three different varieties — mix colors, mix sizes, mix textures — and arrange them on a cutting board or a wide, shallow plate. Drizzle generously with your best olive oil. Scatter flaky sea salt and cracked black pepper over everything. Add fresh basil if you have it (we often carry it at the stand), and maybe a few thin-sliced shallots if you're feeling it.

That's it. Eat it with good bread to soak up the juices that pool in the bottom of the plate. This is not a side dish — it's the centerpiece of an August meal, and it will make you wonder why you ever complicated dinner more than this. The key is using tomatoes that are genuinely ripe and genuinely fresh, which is why the source matters so much.

Three More Ways to Cook (and Not Cook) Your Tomatoes This Week

Beyond the tomato plate, peak-season tomatoes are endlessly versatile — and some of the best preparations require almost no heat at all.

**Tomato Toast with Ricotta:** Spread thick whole-milk ricotta on toasted sourdough, layer on thin-sliced heirloom tomatoes, and finish with a drizzle of honey, flaky salt, and fresh thyme. It sounds unusual and tastes like something a very clever Italian grandmother invented on a hot afternoon.

**Pan-Burst Cherry and Slicing Tomato Pasta:** Rough-chop a pound of ripe slicing tomatoes and sauté them in olive oil with garlic over high heat for about eight minutes until they collapse into a chunky, glossy sauce. Toss with al dente pasta, a handful of torn basil, and a shower of Parmesan. No jar sauce comes close.

**Cold Tomato and Cucumber Salad:** Chop equal parts ripe tomato and cucumber, toss with red onion, red wine vinegar, olive oil, dried oregano, and a pinch of sugar. Let it sit for 20 minutes before serving. The vinegar draws out the tomato juices and turns the whole thing into something you'll eat directly from the bowl with a spoon.

Storing Tomatoes: The One Rule That Changes Everything

Here's the single most important thing anyone can tell you about keeping tomatoes: never refrigerate them. Cold temperatures destroy the cell structure that gives tomatoes their texture and shuts down the enzymatic processes responsible for developing flavor. A ripe tomato that goes into the refrigerator comes out mealy, dull, and sad — a shadow of what it was.

Instead, store your tomatoes stem-side down at room temperature, out of direct sunlight. Stem-side down prevents air from entering through the scar where the stem was attached, which slows deterioration. If your kitchen is very warm, the counter near a window (but not in the sun) works fine. Plan to use ripe tomatoes within two to three days. If you have more than you can eat, roast them down into a simple sauce and freeze it — that's a gift to your future self in January.

If you pick up tomatoes that are still slightly firm from the stand, just leave them on the counter for a day or two and they'll finish ripening beautifully on their own.

Come See What's on the Table This Week

We're open Monday through Friday from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m., Saturday from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m., and Sunday from 11 a.m. to 6 p.m., seven days a week — so no matter what your week looks like, there's a time to stop by. You'll find us at 1594 Barbourville Road here in London, with plenty of parking and no mad dash through a crowded lot.

For anyone searching for fresh produce near me this time of year, we'd love for you to find us. Open Air Market has been a part of Laurel County summers since 1984, and we take real pride in having the kind of tomatoes you can't find anywhere else in the area — heirlooms in colors and varieties that would make a grocery store produce manager's head spin, and slicing tomatoes so ripe they practically beg you to bring them home. August doesn't last, and neither does this tomato harvest. We'll see you soon.