My boyfriend and I didn’t hit it off because he used some cheesy pickup line, nor did we whisper sweet nothings and flirt shamelessly. No, we clicked right away after spending one whole evening, till sunrise, talking about tomatoes.
We discussed vine-ripened Italian tomatoes, so perfect and flavorful you can eat it like an apple. How cherry tomatoes can be so cute and crunchy they can replace a bowl of popcorn. And those Coeur de Boeuf tomatoes? Strange, unusual shape, with bumps and lumps like a hapless blob… But mamma mia! What magical tomato sauce can be made out of them!
Tomatoes to me represent the Mediterranean. Like a red sun, setting over the rocky cliffs on the Costa Brava, glimmering like a ruby over the sea. It is the quintessential ingredient in Mediterranean cuisine, along with olives and grapes.
I’m a fan of simple food. Fabulous ingredients coming together to complement and showcase each other harmoniously. The Caprese salad is the epitome of this beautiful simplicity. Fresh, ripe tomatoes, mozzarella di buffala, a drizzle of olive oil and an impeccable basil leaf delicately perched on the ingredients.
I remember sitting in the port of Naples with my mother, waiting for the boat that was to take us to Capri. We were in a shabby restaurant, where the old fishermen and sailors would come to have their afternoon coffee. Our insalata Caprese was divine. The sweetness of the reddest tomato you’ve ever seen and its slight crunch contrasting with the light and firm, yet creamy and tangy texture of the mozzarella di buffala … that rich aroma and subtle fruity flavor of extra-virgin olive oil … and like the cherry on top of a hot fudge sundae, the cutest, most delectable-looking basil leaf. It was bright green, no bruises, with curves and folds in the right places. No fuss, no fancy plating, just ethereally perfect ingredients. It was like God was on my plate. True gifts from his bountiful generosity, created after a thousand years of genetics, biodiversity and evolution coming together for a very soulful experience in my mouth.
How complicated can it be to put together on a plate tomatoes, cheese, olive oil and basil? Sounds easy but it isn’t. So many, many poor, unfortunate times have I been deceived, fooled, disappointed and almost hurt by what ends up on my plate in restaurants. It has been so bad that at times, tears come to my eyes and I fight hard to suppress the urge to hurl my plate at the kitchen.
Okay, I know this sounds dramatic, but once I explain in a somewhat logical manner, I think you’ll understand. It all comes down to one word: honesty. Call me what you want but one thing’s for sure, I am an honest person. There is nothing worse that anyone can do than lie to me. I don’t judge and as I’ve pointed out before, I am most certainly not a food snob. My brother Joey always reminds me that I’m a gourmand and not a gourmet because I eat everything. The only thing that can ruin my dining experience is a lying menu.
I was recently celebrating a friend’s birthday in a resort in Boracay. We had decided to eat in the Italian restaurant that had an amazing view of the sea, nestled in trees with beautiful lighting and table settings. It was clearly a fine-dining place and I was excited to eat well and enjoy a nice, luxurious dinner with friends. The menu comes, everything sounds great and ah! Insalata Caprese… “tea-smoked tomatoes with mozzarella di buffala, fresh basil and a drizzle of gourmet extra-virgin olive oil.” It was priced at close to P500. Pricey for an entrée, a salad at that! But oh, well, I’ll pay the price for real, non-pasteurized mozzarella.
As it arrives there is a fiery mix of unsavory emotions: disappointment, sadness, anger, bitterness, betrayal. On the plate were four measly wedges of local native tomatoes, and two paper-thin pieces of industrial, pasteurized, pizza-topping-type mozzarella. Do they think I’m an idiot? Not only do they lie about the cheese, but they also have the gall to charge close to P500 for a dish that must have cost P25 to make. I immediately take my plate and look for the chef, who was not there. The waitress herself even admitted that it was not real buffala.
My point is simple. There is no shame in making a Caprese salad with even kesong puti, so long as you don’t lie about it and charge customers a premium for false advertising. There are only a few places in the metro that have real Caprese salads. My favorites are Sala Bistro, Tosca at Dusit Thani Hotel, and Mi Piace at The Peninsula Manila. Since I admit it is difficult and expensive to find real mozzarella di buffala here, I have taken to making my own version at home using kesong puti and native tomatoes.
At least I know exactly what I’m getting on my plate and I’m a happy customer in my own kitchen.
Klassic Kaprese (K for kesong puti!)
100 to 150 grams kesong puti
2 native tomatoes (I like them better than hydroponic tomatoes sometimes because they have real flavor and are not watered down.)
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil (a good value-for-money, supermarket olive oil is Ybarra)
3 fresh basil leaves
Drizzle of balsamic vinegar (optional, I prefer without but sometimes if balsamic vinegar is really thick and syrupy it can be amazing)
Salt and fresh ground pepper to taste
Slice tomatoes and kesong puti to about 1/2 centimeter thick. Arrange neatly on a plate with the kesong puti on top of the tomatoes. Drizzle olive oil, season with salt and pepper and lay basil leaves whole on top. (For an interesting, more oriental twist, you can add some curry powder, cumin and cayenne pepper, finely minced red onions, replace the basil with fresh thyme or oregano and add some grated lemon zest.) Enjoy!
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