Jack's tomatoes are producing. Not trickling — producing. This week alone he harvested nine Beefsteaks and sixteen Roma tomatoes from six plants in a suburban backyard, and he cataloged each one in his 4-H journal with the date, the weight (he uses a kitchen scale), and a description that reads like a wine taster reviewing a vintage: "Good color. Firm. Some cracking near stem. Still excellent flavor." He is six years old and reviewing tomatoes like a Napa Valley sommelier.
I made bruschetta with his Beefsteaks. French bread sliced thick, toasted, rubbed with raw garlic, topped with diced tomatoes tossed in olive oil, fresh basil from the pot on the deck, salt, pepper. That's it. When your tomatoes are this fresh, this warm from the sun, you don't need to do much. You just need to get out of the way and let the tomato be a tomato. Jack watched me make it and said, "Mom, those are mine." I said, "Yes, you grew them." He said, "No — I mean, those are mine. I want credit." I said, "You have credit. You're in the recipe." He was satisfied.
The heat is relentless. Ninety-seven on Thursday. I made cold pasta salad for dinner because the thought of turning on the stove made me want to lie on the kitchen floor. Rotini, cherry tomatoes (Jack's), black olives, mozzarella cubes, Italian dressing. It's the most low-effort meal in my repertoire and it's delicious when it's too hot to care about anything else. Kevin added leftover chicken. Noah added hot sauce. Emma picked out the olives. Jack ate it as-is because Jack eats everything that comes from the garden without modification, like a man at a tasting menu.
I drove to Grinnell midweek — just a quick trip, no kids, just me and a trunk full of frozen meals. Dad was inside, too hot for the garden even at seven PM. We sat at the kitchen table and he told me about a conversation he'd had with the neighbor — the one who farms the corporate land next door. The neighbor said they're putting in tile drainage this fall. Dad knew that field needed tile drainage. He told the bank in 2008. They said no. Nine years later, the corporation is doing what Dad said should have been done, and it'll add twelve percent to the yield, and Dad knows this because he knows that field the way he knows his own hands, and knowing doesn't help anymore, and I sat across from him and watched him carry that knowledge like a stone and I couldn't take it from him and the meatloaf couldn't take it from him and nothing can take it because some griefs just live in you.
Between the bruschetta and the pasta salad, this has been a week of meals that stay out of the tomatoes’ way — and honestly, that’s the right instinct when the garden is this generous and the heat is this stubborn. A great Caesar salad operates the same way: the dressing does the heavy lifting, the greens stay crisp and cold, and if Jack happens to slice a few of his Romas over the top, well, he’ll be the first to tell you he deserves credit for that too. This is the salad I come back to when I need something that feels like a real dinner without asking anything of me I don’t have left to give.
Delicious Caesar Salad with Homemade Dressing
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 15 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 2 large heads romaine lettuce, chopped or torn into bite-sized pieces
- 1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese, plus more for serving
- 1 cup croutons (store-bought or homemade)
- 1–2 ripe Roma or cherry tomatoes, halved (optional, but highly recommended if someone in your house grew them)
- For the dressing:
- 3 cloves garlic, minced or pressed
- 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
- 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
- 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
- 1/2 teaspoon anchovy paste (or 2 anchovy fillets, mashed — skip if needed, but don’t skip)
- 1/2 cup mayonnaise
- 1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- Salt to taste
Instructions
- Make the dressing. In a medium bowl, whisk together the garlic, lemon juice, Worcestershire, Dijon, and anchovy paste until combined. Add the mayonnaise, Parmesan, and olive oil and whisk until smooth and creamy. Season with black pepper and salt to taste. Refrigerate while you prep the salad — it gets better as it sits.
- Prep the lettuce. Wash and thoroughly dry your romaine. Chop or tear into generous pieces and place in a large salad bowl. Cold, crisp lettuce matters here, so if you have time, pop the torn leaves in the fridge for 10 minutes before dressing.
- Dress and toss. Drizzle about half the dressing over the lettuce and toss to coat. Add more dressing to your preference — you want every leaf lightly covered but not swimming. Any leftover dressing keeps in the refrigerator for up to one week.
- Top and serve. Add the croutons and Parmesan, toss once more gently, and serve immediately. Add halved tomatoes on top if using. Finish with an extra shower of Parmesan at the table.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 9g | Fat: 24g | Carbs: 14g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 520mg