Summer is officially defined by tomatoes. Not the grainy, flavorless ones they sell all winter in the grocery store, but those plump, beefsteak tomatoes that you buy at the roadside stand, or if you’re really lucky, your neighbor hands you across the fence straight off the vine from his garden and still warm from the sun. I learned to eat tomatoes by picking cherry tomatoes in Auntie and Uncle Horace’s garden. She told us to go pick cherry tomatoes for dinner. All I heard was cherry, so I ate almost as quickly as I picked. They weren’t cherries, but they were wonderful.
My maternal grandmother always peeled tomatoes before serving them. I never understood why, but because she did it I always assumed that was the way civilized people ate tomatoes.
But I digress. I’m stuck on the "T", and we still the "B" and the "L" to discuss. Not to mention the bread and mayonnaise.
So the lettuce must be iceberg. I don’t care that it has no nutritional value. It has the requisite crisp and crunch. It’s not really there for flavor anyway. It’s there to add texture, and if it’s very cold with just a few droplets of water from the rinsing, all the better.
The bacon must be freshly cooked. In an iron skillet preferably. It should be very crisp, maybe a little darker than usual. None of this wimpy microwave bacon, please! Some people will tell you that thick cut is the way to go, but I prepare the regular slice. It’s a texture thing again. The bacon should crumble as I bite into the sandwich. I want to gather up those little bacon bits and stuff them back into the sandwich.
I’m reasonably flexible on the bread. It can be white or wheat, but homemade is the key. Sliced just right. You don’t want it too thick or it takes away from the other flavors. I’m also flexible on toasting or not. If it’s the heat of summer, I’d stay with untoasted bread. Why heat anything you don’t have to? Plus then you get the benefit of watching and feeling your fingers press into the bread to hold the sandwich together as you devour it.
I’m a Hellman’s mayonnaise girl from way back when. Miracle Whip is no substitute. If you don’t have mayonnaise, butter (the real stuff) is the only acceptable substitute. When I was a girl, my mother used to make homemade mayonnaise and that is, of course, an excellent alteration, but there’s that whole salmonella/e coli thing about not eating uncooked eggs.
So there you have it. The perfect BLT. The first bite must be taken with closed eyes, slowly, showing awe and reverence for the perfection this sandwich represents. After that wolfing or savoring are equally acceptable. No side items are really necessary with the BLT, but potato chips or potato salad do offer a nice variation and offer the benefit of making the process take just a little longer. Of course, you could always just have another BLT instead.
