THE SL KITCHEN
SOUTHERNLIVING.COM / JULY 20 19
113
Heirloom Tomato Pie with
Parmesan-Buttermilk Crust
ACTIVE 30 MIN. - TOTAL 2 HOURS, 50 MIN.,
PLUS 1 HOUR STANDING
SERVES 8|
3 lb. assorted medium to large
heirloom tomatoes
1 tsp. kosher salt, divided
6 thick-cut bacon slices, diced
2 large shallots, chopped
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
(2 tsp.)
6 oz. aged extra-sharp white
Cheddar cheese, grated
(about 1 1/2 cups)
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1/2 cup chopped fresh basil
1/4 cup thinly sliced fresh
chives
1 Tbsp. Dijon mustard
1 large egg
1/4 tsp. black pepper
Parmesan-Buttermilk Crust
(recipe follows)
Fresh basil leaves
Minced fresh chives
- Preheat oven to 400°F. Cut tomatoes
into 1/2-inch-thick slices. Place about 7
or 8 slices (enough to cover top of pie)
on a baking sheet lined with paper
towels, and sprinkle with 1/4 teaspoon
of the salt. Cover with additional paper
towels, and reserve.
- Arrange remaining tomatoes in
a single layer on a lightly greased
wire rack set on a large baking sheet.
Sprinkle with 1/2 teaspoon of the salt.
Bake in preheated oven until wilted
and slightly dried out, 40 to 45 minutes.
Cool completely, about 1 hour.
- Meanwhile, cook bacon in a skillet
over medium-high until fat is beginning
to render, 4 to 5 minutes. Add chopped
shallots, and cook until bacon is crisp
and shallots are caramelized, 6 to 7
more minutes. Stir in garlic; cook until
fragrant, about 1 minute. Using a slotted
A
SK ME WHAT summer
tastes like in the South,
and I’ll tell you in just two
words: tomato pie.
I was introduced to this
classic at a ladies’ luncheon
in Cary, North Carolina, back
in the 1990s. It sat elegantly atop a
crystal cake stand on a long sideboard.
I knew right away that this was no
ordinary pie. It merited a place of honor
on the table, right between the green
salad in a wooden bowl and the
chopped-ham sandwiches that
sat in perfectly straight
rows on a silver tray.
The single-crust
tart looked like a
quiche with its
smooth top, but it
lacked the egg-based
custard of its French
counterpart. Instead,
it was crowned with
fanned-out tomatoes
in different hues of
red and yellow. The
flaky crust splintered
around the edges as
our hostess cut into the pie.
I tasted the crispy base, topped
with sautéed Vidalia onions. A bottom
layer of sliced tomatoes peeked out
from under a creamy, salty mixture of
mayonnaise and cheese. But it was the
topping—a layer of sweet, caramelized
tomatoes—that really hooked me.
Historically speaking, the origin of
tomato pie is hard to pinpoint. Although
this dish has secured its rightful spot in
the Southern food canon, many experts
consider it a more recent addition.
Damon Lee Fowler, author of
nine cookbooks, including Classical
Southern Cooking, believes it became
widely popular in the 1970s. “None
of my community cookbooks from
before then or the big Southern
food writers of that time—Mrs. S.R.
Dull, Mildred Evans Warren, Marion
Brown, Grace Hartley—have anything
like that,” he says. Fowler offered the
theory that mayonnaise manufacturers
might have come up with the original
recipe and included it in promotional
materials for the home cook, causing
this tasty idea to soon spread across
the South.
The first tomato pie recipe in
Southern Living appeared in June
- Submitted by Mrs. Rose Welsh
from Seabrook, Maryland, it included
Cheddar and provo-
lone cheeses and
called for the toma-
toes to be coated in
flour and sautéed in
hot oil before being
placed in the pie.
Since my first
encounter with tomato
pie, I’ve eaten versions
made with bread or
biscuit crusts and
shells of puff pastry.
I’ve had miniature
ones with equally
tiny tomatoes and large pies featuring
heirloom selections like Green Zebra
and Brandywine. Some cooks kick
up the heat with cayenne or chipotle
peppers; some sprinkle on toppings of
crumbled bacon or crushed saltines.
Whenever I cook my own, I start
with a buttery pastry made from
scratch and blind-bake it until it turns
golden brown. The filling contains
mayonnaise and a mix of hand-grated
cheeses, including sharp Cheddar. I
add pimientos, plenty of parsley, chives,
and a pinch of hot smoked paprika.
Truth be told, beyond the requisite
tomatoes, cheese, and mayonnaise, it
doesn’t matter so much what you put
in your tomato pie as long as you make
one before summer passes you by.
“I KNEW
RIGHT AWAY
THAT THIS
WAS NO
ORDINARY
PIE. IT
MERITED A
PLACE OF
HONOR ON
THE TABLE.”
