This Simple French Dish Is What Summer Tomatoes Are Made For

It’s easy to throw around superlatives when it comes to simple summer tomato dishes. Catch me at any moment and I might declare that panzanella is the best thing to make when peak-season tomatoes arrive. Five minutes later, I’ll change my tune: gazpacho. No—Spanish tuna and tomato salad. Or maybe a Greek salad? Oh, but then there’s the classic tomato sandwich on white bread with mayo.

Right now, though, my answer is France's gorgeously spare tomato and mustard tart, which makes of its limited ingredient list far more than one could imagine. It's all I want to make this summer with my farmers market tomatoes, except that I also want to make all the other things I just rattled off, and plenty more too. So take me at my word: This tart is the best simple summer tomato recipe. And so are all the others, too.

At its core, the recipe is incredibly simple. A pastry crust of some sort is topped with a generous slathering of Dijon, then rounds of juicy red tomatoes and just enough salt to make them sing. That could be it, though many recipes add a thing here or there. Many include cheese, often grated Gruyère, as in this recipe, but I've seen some with rounds of fresh goat cheese placed on top. Some lend the tart a provençal touch with pitted black olives dotted among the tomatoes. Herbs are welcome: a dried sprinkling of herbes de Provence, as I call for here; picked fresh leaves of fragrant basil scattered on top after the tart comes out of the oven; or whatever else might strike your fancy.

While variations are potentially endless, I have a few notes on three specific points: the pastry, the mustard, and the salt. Everything else is easy enough to figure out on your own.

Pastry Options

One of the main selling points of this tart—outside of its outsized deliciousness—is how easy it is to make. But that overlooks the pastry question—many would argue that making any tart or pie dough from scratch isn't easy, and I wouldn't exactly argue (though, with a bit of practice, it's hardly a chore). But you don't need to make your pastry for this. One of the best approaches here is to keep some good-quality, all-butter, store-bought puff pastry in your freezer. Move it to the fridge to defrost, and you can have a tart ready in minutes.

If making your own pastry isn't a turn-off, great. Pâte brisée, a savory tart crust, is perfect, but keep in mind that you'll need a tart pan for it. I know, because—in a less intelligent moment—I tried using it for a free-form galette. It’s too short for any free-form anything: It crumbles, cracks, and melts into a blob when left to support itself without a pan.

If you want to go the galette route, you're better off with a classic pie crust, which can be rolled out and folded onto itself to form a graceful border that cradles the filling. Or put a pie crust in a pie plate—really, do whatever you want. That's exactly the kind of there-are-no-rules-to-constrain-my-flowing-freedom attitude, which feels exactly in the spirit of this effortless French country tart.

Mustard Matters

On paper, a layer of Dijon mustard might seem like flavor overkill—pungent, spicy, and sharp. Surely it'd overpower the tomatoes and make you wince with every bite. I promise you: It does not. It is perfect, in a way I can’t fully explain, except that it anchors the juicy, fruity tomatoes with a fragrant, earthy acidity.

Some recipes for this tart mix the mustard with crème fraîche to temper its intensity and add creaminess. I was sure I would want to do the same, so I made an equal-parts mix of the two and baked a tart with it. First, I have to tell you that an equal-parts mixture of Dijon and crème fraîche is perhaps one of the most delightful and easy condiments I've ever stirred together in a tiny bowl. I want to eat it on everything.

But, strangely, I didn't think it made much difference. It was very tasty, but it wasn't tastier than the mustard alone. I don't think the tart needs it, and I don't think you need to add the (very minor) effort of buying crème fraîche for this recipe. You can if you want, but I'd rather smear the Dijon-fraîche on just about anything else.

Salt

While developing this recipe, I had one other thought: Would it help to pre-salt the tomatoes and let them drain? I figured it'd help reduce wateriness and concentrate their flavor for a better tart.

In practice, the benefit was so minor, so nearly imperceptible, that I didn't include it in the recipe, and I don't think it's necessary to wait an hour while the tomatoes drip and drain before making the tart. Again, you can if you want—it’s maybe slightly better—but I doubt anyone would notice unless tasting side-by-side, and even then, only if you told them.

But you know what? That's the beauty of this tart. An effortless wave of the hand, a casual gesture in the kitchen, and this tart emerges as another breezy favorite among all the other easy-peasy tomato favorites for this summer and all the rest.