The only thing better than a good recipe? When something’s so easy to make you don’t even need one. Welcome to It’s That Simple, a column where we talk you through the process of making the dishes and drinks we can make with our eyes closed.
If I had to narrow it down, the two foods that make me the most nostalgic for the summers of my childhood in the South are tomatoes and pimento cheese. Ideally together, but in the peak of the summer, I’ll take them in any form.
A sandwich is good, especially when the tomatoes are so juicy I have to eat it leaning over a plate to avoid dribbling juice down my shirt. There’s a beloved spot in my college town that even adds bacon to the mix, with an option to add pimento cheese to its BLT.
But try as I might, I cannot turn every summer dinner into an occasion to eat a sandwich, which is where this galette comes in. It’s the celebration-worthy equivalent of a tomato and pimento cheese sandwich—and it’s only three ingredients: tomatoes and pimento cheese, of course, plus store-bought pie crust because you will not catch me trying to make homemade in the summer. Beyond the fact that it’s hot as heck in my kitchen all year, I simply refuse to make that kind of effort when I could be soaking up the sun instead.
Here’s how to make a Tomato-Pimento Cheese Galette:
Preheat the oven to 400°. Cut about 2 lb. tomatoes into ½” slices. (I like heirloom or beefsteak, but even cherry tomatoes work if you just slice them in half.) Sprinkle them on both sides with about 1½ tsp. kosher salt, then let them drain on paper towels for about 10 minutes.
Unroll a store-bought pie crust onto a parchment-lined baking sheet and trim about 1″ off the corners, giving you a slightly rounder shape. Spread 1½ cups store-bought pimento cheese (I like Palmetto brand) on the crust, leaving a 1” border. Shingle the tomatoes on top of that, then crack a little black pepper, and casually fold up the edges. Bake until the crust is golden brown, 20–25 minutes.
Serve this however you want: hold, cold, or at room temperature, at any meal of the day. It’s ripe for anything from a summer potluck to an evening spent in the backyard with a few friends and a little rosé.