Slice of Summer: Why Tomato Pie Just Hits Different
Tomato pie is like mom’s spaghetti—you don’t know exactly why you love it so much, but you do. It’s comforting, a little messy, and wrapped in something warm and familiar. Around here, when summer hits its stride and the tomatoes come in like blessings in a basket, you know it’s time to make a pie.
{Photo Credit: Antionette Kerr/Davidson Local}
This isn’t one of those fussy recipes that requires a culinary degree or a YouTube tutorial. It’s easy. So easy that even a bad chef like me (and I say that with love) can make it without burning the damn house down.
Let’s get one thing straight: ain’t nobody got time to make a homemade crust when the tomatoes are calling. Grab yourself a deep-dish pre-baked one from the grocery store and keep it moving. This pie is about flavor, not perfection.
And it all starts with tomatoes—real ones. The kind you get from a roadside stand, a backyard garden, or a friend at the farmers market who calls you “sweetheart” and throws in an extra just because. You want tomatoes that taste like summer. Juicy, sweet, and maybe a little sun-kissed.
Tomato Pie Recipe (For the Busy or the Bad at Cooking)
You’ll need:
1 pre-baked deep-dish pie crust
3–4 ripe local tomatoes (sliced and drained)
Salt
1 cup shredded cheddar cheese
1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
¾ cup mayonnaise
½ small sweet onion, chopped (optional but encouraged)
A handful of fresh basil, chopped
Black pepper to taste
Steps:
Slice the tomatoes and let them sit on paper towels. Sprinkle with salt and let the magic happen for 10–15 minutes to pull out the water. Dab them like you’re blotting a face in church.
Layer the tomatoes in the crust, overlapping like shingles. Add the onion and basil. Don’t overthink it.
Mix mayo, cheeses, and pepper in a bowl. Spread that creamy goodness on top like frosting on a birthday cake.
Bake at 350°F for 30–35 minutes until it’s bubbly and golden. Let it sit before slicing—if you can wait.
What I love about tomato pie is that it’s not trying to impress anyone. It’s not trendy or complicated. It’s just good. Good like Sunday morning, granny’s handwritten recipes, and neighbors who still wave when they drive by.
I didn’t grow up with tomato pie, but once it found me, it stayed. And now every summer, when the tomatoes start piling up, I know what I’m making. It’s not about perfection. It’s about using what you have, honoring the season, and putting a little love in the oven.
Serve it warm, serve it cold, eat it standing over the sink—it doesn’t matter. Just don’t forget to share the story behind it.
