Summer Tomato Salad Basil Oil

There's something about late July when the farmers market suddenly overflows with tomatoes in every shade—sunset reds, deep purples, golden yellows—that makes you want to stop cooking and just celebrate what's already perfect. I learned this lesson the hard way years ago after spending hours making a complicated tomato sauce when I should've simply sliced ripe heirlooms, scattered good cheese, and drizzled everything with basil oil. Now this salad is my summer anchor, the thing I make when I want to taste the season on a plate without fussing.

I brought this to a potluck where someone else had made three different casseroles, and by the end of the night, my platter was empty while theirs barely got touched. One friend asked me what the secret was, and I realized it wasn't a secret at all—it was just that tomatoes, when they're good, don't need hiding.

Ingredients

• Heirloom tomatoes, assorted colors: The whole point of this dish—look for ones that feel heavy and smell sweet at the stem, which means they're actually ripe and not just red.
• Fresh mozzarella: Creamy and mild, it won't compete with the tomatoes; use the best you can find because there's nowhere for it to hide.
• Fresh basil leaves: This will become your oil, so pick leaves that smell almost perfume-like and bruise them gently in your hands first.
• Extra-virgin olive oil: The quality matters here since it's one of four main components; save the fancy bottle.
• White balsamic or red wine vinegar: A small drizzle of acid brightens everything at the very end without darkening the colors.
• Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper: These are your final touches, so taste as you go.
• Red onion, thinly sliced (optional): A whisper of sharpness if you want it, but completely skippable if you prefer your salad purely summery and gentle.

Instructions

Blend the basil into silk:

Tear your basil leaves and drop them into a blender with the olive oil, then pulse until it's smooth and vivid green—you'll smell it before you know it's ready. Strain through a fine mesh if you want it crystal clear, or leave the tiny flecks if you like texture.

Arrange like you mean it:

Slice your tomatoes about a quarter-inch thick and lay them overlapping on your serving platter, letting the colors play against each other. Tear or slice the mozzarella and tuck pieces among the tomatoes as you go, then scatter your red onion slivers if using.

Dress with generosity:

Drizzle that basil oil across everything in a loose, artistic way—this isn't about being neat, it's about making sure every slice gets some of that green goodness.

Finish with acidity and restraint:

Just before serving, add a small drizzle of vinegar, a scatter of sea salt, and a few cracks of black pepper. Taste one bite, adjust, and get it to the table while everything's still cool and the basil oil is glowing.

Save

Once someone told me that the best tomato dishes are the ones where tomatoes do the work, and everything else just gets out of the way. That moment changed how I think about cooking in general.

Shopping for Tomatoes Like You're Serious About It

The difference between this dish being transcendent and just okay lives entirely in the tomatoes. Hunt for ones with some give when you squeeze gently, skip anything that feels rock-hard or smells like nothing, and don't worry if they have wrinkles or bruises—character, not damage. Farmers market tomatoes in peak season are worth the trip; supermarket tomatoes in winter are worth skipping.

Why Basil Oil Changes Everything

Regular basil scattered on top gets bruised and turns dark and bitter, but blended into oil it stays bright green and tastes like basil should—fresh, almost peppery, herbaceous without being harsh. The oil also clings to the tomatoes and mozzarella in a way loose leaves never could, so every bite gets the full flavor profile instead of being hit-or-miss.

Variations Worth Trying

The beauty of this salad is how much room it has for your own thinking. The core—good tomatoes, good cheese, good oil—is non-negotiable, but from there you can wander.

• Swap burrata for mozzarella if you want something creamier and more indulgent.
• Add thin slices of ripe peaches or nectarines for a sweet-savory play that feels especially good in late August.

Save

This is the kind of recipe that reminds you why summer is worth waiting for. Serve it with grilled sourdough, a cold glass of Sauvignon Blanc, and people you actually want to sit with.