Roasted Tomato Almond Dip with Grilled Bread

Last week of the summer meal program. Same farewell as last year — fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, the good meal, the meal that says "I care about you and I will see you in September." Eighty-three kids on the last day. The most all summer.

The quiet girl came through the line. She is different now than she was two years ago — taller, steadier, a little less quiet each month. She took her tray and she stopped. She looked at me. And she said, "Miss Dot, can I tell you something?" I said, "You can tell me anything, baby." She said, "You're my favorite person at school." Then she walked away with her tray and sat down and ate, and I stood behind the counter and I thought: there is no award, no raise, no recognition in this world that is worth more than a child saying you are their favorite person. I put it in my journal that night. I put it right next to the "thank you" card from Valentine's Day. These are my treasures. These are the riches of a life spent behind a lunch counter.

I canned tomatoes this weekend. The garden is at the end of its summer run — the plants are leggy and tired and producing their last fruit, and every tomato feels like a gift because it is. Twenty jars this year. Denise came to help, same as last summer, and we stood at the kitchen counter peeling and packing and sealing, and the kitchen was a hundred degrees and our arms ached and the steam from the water bath made our hair frizz, and it was one of the best days of my summer. Because this is what women do. We stand in kitchens together and we turn summer into jars and we talk about everything that matters — children, health, husbands, God, the cost of groceries, the miracle of tomatoes — and we come out the other side with twenty jars and a bond that no amount of air conditioning could improve upon.

Earl ate a tomato sandwich while we canned. White bread, mayonnaise, thick slices of Cherokee Purple, salt, pepper. Nothing else. Nothing else needed. He said, "This might be the best thing you grow." I said, "Earl, I didn't grow it. God grew it. I just put it in the dirt and watered it." He said, "Then tell God I said thank you." I will. Tonight. Over a tomato sandwich of my own.

Now go on and feed somebody.

After twenty jars on the shelf and Earl’s tomato sandwich still fresh in my mind, I kept thinking about all the ways a good tomato can stop you in your tracks — the way it’s so complete, so summer, that you almost don’t want to do anything fancy with it. But when Denise left and the kitchen finally cooled down and I had a few tomatoes left that weren’t quite right for canning, I roasted them slow with a little olive oil and made this dip, and I will tell you: it tasted like gratitude. Serve it with good grilled bread and the right company, and it will feel every bit as rich as those twenty sealed jars lined up on the counter.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 lbs ripe tomatoes (Roma, Cherokee Purple, or any garden variety), halved
1/2 cup raw almonds
4 cloves garlic, unpeeled
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
1 tablespoon sherry vinegar or red wine vinegar
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 baguette or rustic loaf, sliced 1/2-inch thick
Extra olive oil and flaky salt for serving

Instructions

Roast the tomatoes and garlic. Preheat your oven to 375°F. Arrange the halved tomatoes cut-side up on a rimmed baking sheet. Nestle the unpeeled garlic cloves among them. Drizzle with 2 tablespoons of olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Roast for 40–45 minutes, until the tomatoes are deeply caramelized and beginning to collapse.
Toast the almonds. While the tomatoes roast, spread the almonds on a small dry skillet over medium heat. Toast, stirring frequently, for 4–5 minutes until golden and fragrant. Remove from heat and let cool.
Blend the dip. Squeeze the roasted garlic out of its skins and add to a food processor with the roasted tomatoes and all their juices, the toasted almonds, smoked paprika, red pepper flakes, vinegar, and remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil. Pulse until the mixture is thick and slightly chunky — you want texture, not a smooth puree. Taste and adjust salt.
Grill the bread. Heat a grill pan or outdoor grill over medium-high heat. Brush the bread slices lightly with olive oil on both sides and grill for 1–2 minutes per side, until golden with char marks.
Serve. Transfer the dip to a bowl, drizzle with a little extra olive oil, and finish with flaky salt. Arrange the grilled bread alongside and serve warm or at room temperature.

Nutrition (per serving)

Roasted Tomato Almond Dip with Grilled Bread — Because Every Last Tomato Is a Gift