Chapter 2. Cucumber, Tomato, Mozzarella Salad
My maternal grandma was the first person to introduce me to heirloom tomatoes, which she’d bring to me, my siblings, and mom from her garden during the summer months. “They’re very ugly, but they have so much flavor,” she’d tell us (although in my humble opinion I think that heirlooms are actually really gorgeous). However, it wasn’t until I was a culinary student working at the campus farm that I got to taste a broader spectrum of tomatoes.
In the early spring the farm manager at the time warned me and the other student farm workers that we’d have tomatoes up to our noses during the summer, and when that time came the farm was bursting with dozens of varieties.
Purple and green, red and black, gold, yellow, covered in papery green skin.
At the time student farm crew were paid the college’s minimum wage for student workers, $8.25, and I also worked at the South Seaport cafe where I earned $13.75 + tips if I covered any of the counter people. Either way the summer bounty was a welcome bonus to both of my miserly wages. I could only take but so much home though since the entire time I was in culinary school I stayed in a handful of youth housing programs that were really just dorms.
In one program, depending on when you entered it and the behavior reported from your caseworker, you would have 0-2 roommates. I was pretty well behaved and had been offered a single’s room several times, but I liked my roommates for the most part. I also knew the girls who stayed in the single rooms often invoked a lot of envy from other girls, which was one of many sources of late night hallway fights. Therefore, having roommates gave me a sense of safety.
In any case, none of the girls’ or guys’ units had a kitchen, and the closest we got to one was the kitchenette (e.g. microwave and fridge) in the main room and a dorm fridge in our bedrooms.
Lush leafy greens, herbs, and fruits wouldn’t fit in either of those fridges that were often filled with other residents’ take-out and snacks. So most of the times I took less from the farm than I actually needed. One late summer though, the farm manager was hosting a potluck and everyone was expected to bring a dish. I couldn’t use the culinary school kitchens to prepare anything and I didn’t have a kitchen, but no one knew that, so I figured the least kitchen-necessary thing I could make was a salad.
A day before the potluck, the farm manager had insisted I take home a boatload of cherry tomatoes, and I decided to make a salad featuring them. Even though I was pretty poor I still shopped at WF because I’d found it was one of the few places I could find meat and dairy that didn’t make me sick. Which meant I ate less frequently but I preferred being hungry or eating less to being stuck in the bathroom for hours.
So I got some mozzarella cheese balls, balsamic, and olive oil from WF. All of which were hard to sneak into the program since glass bottles were prohibited due to the likelihood of them being used as a weapon by certain residents. Even though most of the time if someone was going to get into a fight using weapons they’d just do it in the front or backyards. Anyway, I wrapped my bottles of vinegar and oil in my chef uniform and called it a day.
Getting a knife into the building was another story, so I didn’t even try that, and I’m pretty sure I used a plastic knife to prepare the salad. Either way, some how the night before the potluck I cut up the tomatoes and cheese into a glass container (which I bought just for the potluck) with a tight lid. Even though I knew that refrigerated tomatoes were blasphemy, I wasn’t going to store it on my windowsill and wouldn’t have time to prepare it the next day since I had to get up early to work at the cafe.
I brought the salad with me to work and popped it in the fridge there along with the salad dressing I’d made in a little plastic container, and from there brought it with me to the potluck. I got there early and remember being stressed out that everyone would be able to taste the refrigeration on the tomatoes, or taste the fact that I’d made it standing at my windowsill while watching some kids arguing outside.
Would everyone be able to taste my poverty and circumstance?
After I found the address and put down my things the farm manager gave me a tour of the place and then handed me some purple and green basil and was like, “You wanna chop this up and add some to your salad?”
I smiled with a bit of relief and was like “Yeah!!”
This salad is a remake of that salad, with some juicy Corinto cucumbers added in. No kitchen required, use what you have and enjoy.
The Receipt - Cucumber and Tomato Salad
Ingredients
Salad:
2 medium Cucumbers
1 pint Cherry Tomatoes
8 ounces Mozzarella Cheese
Balsamic Vinaigrette:
1/2 cup Balsamic Vinegar
3 tbsp. Honey
1 tsp. Black Pepper, freshly ground
1-2 tsp. Salt
3/4 to 1 cup Olive Oil (or other vegetable oil)
Directions
Cut cucumbers in half lengthwise, then cut those into halves and then into medium sized cubes. Place into a large bowl.
Cut cherry tomatoes into halves and add to the bowl.
Dice the mozzarella into small cubes and add to the bowl.
In a medium bowl, or glass measuring cup, whisk together honey, balsamic vinegar, pepper, and salt. Then slowly whisk in the olive oil and combine until slightly thickened. Adjust seasoning as needed.
Pour dressing over salad and toss to combine.
