In my mind tomatoes represent the summer. The earthy, green, and vegetal aroma wafts from the fruit which is only kissed by the sun. The aroma tells me the fruit is perfectly ripe. However, only by touch can you be sure it is ready to enjoy. Plucking it from the vine, it is still warm and filled with life. Cool water washes over my hands as I calm the detachment, I softly wipe away residue from the Eastern winds. I hone the knife on the diamond steel. Effortlessly, it cuts through the plump flesh. With the thick slices stacked, it is time for preparation to begin.
Honoring the beauty of the tomato, it is finished with only a drizzle of fine Israeli olive oil, pyramids of Balinese sea salt, and fresh torn basil.
The food we eat tells a story. Honoring the individuality of the food we eat is an honest philosophy which will never steer you wrong.