The birds are chirping. The grass blades are sharpening. The mint is already starting to take over the side of the house. The fresh tomato tarts are being made. It’s the start of fresh vegetable season, my friends. A time when simplicity rules, minimal preparation is a must, and lighter fare for longer days is on the table. And, with warm weather comes vegetable gardening, along with high expectations of oneself to plant said vegetable garden.

This year I’m going to grow a tomato plant! I think to myself. This is the summer of the tomato plant! I can do it!

I go through this internal green thumb psyching up every single year.

As a proponent for eating sustainably, seasonally, and locally, I feel like I really should be a vegetable gardener. I even go to the garden centres at the beginning of planting season, dropping money on nursed baby herb plants still in diapers, “gourmet” heirloom seeds, designer garden gloves (you gotta look good in the mud), and fancy “rustic” pots. Alas, each year passes and my tomato plants are neglected and eaten by pests, my herb plants are bald, and I enter September ashamed and hungry.

Next year, I think to myself. I’ll be older, wiser, more mature, *ready* to grow a vegetable garden comparable to the victory gardens of the 1940s that kept families fed.

Except… nope.

This year, I’m setting realistic expectations about my gardening, which is to say, I’m not. Maybe a planter box full of herbs. That’s it. This year, I’m leaving the vegetable growing to the experts, and will enter September well fed and pleased with my produce shopping prowess. Why can’t people compliment me on my choosing of vegetables? “Wow, Al, this tomato you bought is DIVINE. You have a rare gift that must be fostered.” I would like that very much.

But, enough about my failures in the dirt, let’s move onto my successes in the kitchen: non-homegrown-tomato tart making.

I realize it’s not quite tomato season. However, like most produce, hydroponic tomatoes are perennially available. Sure, they don’t taste like their late-August cousin, but paired with a briny, fruity olive oil crust, crack of black pepper, hailstorm of goat cheese, and drizzling of syrupy balsamic, they can sing. Tomaaaaaa to.

When I think of spring, I think of tarts. I think of tartine. I think of crostini. I think of lazy picnics. It’s food that can be slowly picked at, eaten with a salad or soup, and enjoyed as lunch or dinner or tea along with good conversation.

If the word “tart” scares you, relax; this recipe is incredibly easy and comes together in under an hour. There are no food processors or blenders required, and the crust is press-in, very forgiving, and speckled like a Dalmatian with kalamata olives. It’s also versatile. Once the crust is baked and tomatoes are layered on top, feel free to pop it under the broiler––I did this with my “leftovers” and it was a delight.

Whether you’re gearing up for tomato planting season in your backyard, or tomato buying season at your farmers’ market, this tart does not discriminate (although, I would feel a lot smugger eating a tomato tart with tomatoes that I’ve grown… maybe next year).

FRESH TOMATO TART WITH OLIVE OIL KALAMATA CRUST

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