What would a Carolina summer without tomatoes look like? Our B.L.’s — dry — with no T.’s? Our countertops and windowsills — naked — with no cheery red fruits? Dinners out — incomplete — with no ’mater starters (not the green ones, fried, or the heirlooms, sliced and swimming in balsamic vinegar)? Lucky for us, we can have our tomatoes and eat them, too: on sandwiches, in cocktails, atop pasta, and even, for some of us, on barbecue. This month, we pay homage to our favorite fruit-not-vegetable. We don’t have to imagine a summer without tomatoes, because we’ve seen the future of Carolina cuisine, and it looks rosy (and also green and a little orange).
Tomatoes, much like summer, must be cherished, savored, enjoyed for as long as possible.
Sure, the sandwich of summer is wonderful just the way it is — only fresh tomatoes, mayonnaise, and bread. But you’d be surprised what North Carolina ingredients, from sprouts to spreads, will pair well with your next tomato sandwich.
NOFO’s award-winning Bloody Mary is a triumph for its customers, too.
The early roots of 4-H and home demonstration can be traced to tomatoes.
Despite the 5,000 miles between us, our state shares a few things in common with Italy: beautiful beaches; warm, sunny summers; and a profound love of tomatoes.
At the Holden Brothers Farm Market in Shallotte, visitors pick two of our favorite red fruits: Strawberries in the spring and tomatoes in the fall.
Cook, read, learn, and celebrate what North Carolina has to offer this month.
Our editor in chief reminisces on her first special-occasion restaurant experience in North Carolina.
In Pitt County, a luthier’s handcrafted guitars are sometimes discolored or full of knots; some are shaped liked snakes or shotguns. Each instrument’s story starts with the wood used to make it. And while the past may have left its scars, beauty can be found in the sights and sounds of art.
The Roanoke begins in the Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia and travels more than 400 miles before emptying into Albemarle Sound, linking countless lives along the way. Follow along as a native son traces the river’s path through northeastern North Carolina, sharing stories of the Roanoke he knows and loves.
