I'm always impressed by an enterprising farmer at my local farmer's market. Each Saturday, I visit a particular stand for a tomato. (Yes, only one tomato. Anyone who knows the food preferences of my husband understands that the man does not eat tomatoes. So, it's just the one tomato for yours truly.) Anyway, each week the farmer asks me if I would like some fresh goat cheese to go with my tomato.
Ah, the up-sell. Typically, the up-sell chaps my hide, but I figure it's tough for a small farmer to make a buck. And, well, I really love goat cheese.
The only issue is that I have a limited farmer's market budget each week, and the $7 ($7!!) for goat cheese would limit the number of caramels I could purchase. A girl has to have her priorities.
Finally, after several weeks of turning down the chevre, I had enough pennies in my pocket. When the farmer offered the bait, I bit hard. "Well, yes, I would like some goat cheese to go with my tomato!"
And I was on my way home, dreaming of lunch at 8:30 a.m.
When the husband and I met up later that morning, I proudly announced my farmer's market purchase. He looked at me with that look that told me I was being dense but wasn't quite sure why. "That goat cheese is going to be UNPASTEURIZED."
Ahhh. Unpasteurized. Dang.
I am the kind of person who sniffs the milk carton even before it's reached the expiration date. I stopped eating raw cookie dough as soon as I learned the word salmonella. In my mind, unpasteurized meant consequences I was not interested in.
But goat cheese and tomato sounded so goooood.
God bless the people who invented the internet. After a quick search, I tracked down my enterprising farmer and confirmed that his product was indeed pasteurized.
Darn good thing because I couldn't have resisted this kind of glorious concoction:
This is simple. Get bread. Schmear it with goat cheese. Top it with sliced tomatoes. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Smile big.