It’s tomato season. There are some who would argue there’s no better phrase in the English language. A tomato at peak ripeness is a peak summer experience, right up there with beach days, rope swings, outdoor concerts, and al fresco meals. It’s one of the season’s most elemental pleasures, and serves as the base for another: a fresh, chilled gazpacho.

The window for maximal tomato ripeness is short but magnificent: eight, maybe ten weeks when the vines have ditched the hothouse and the fruit has ripened in the sun, when heirlooms stack high on farmer’s market tables or blush red (or yellow, or purple, or orange) in your garden. Perfect specimens, not contrived, not waxed, but soft, vibrant, juicy, earthy, and wildly imperfect as only heirlooms can be. There aren’t many things that taste so right on a warm day in August or September. 

As such they’re often best eaten unadorned, save for some salt, good olive oil, a leaf of basil, a shake of pepper, and maybe a slab of fresh cheese. But even that may not match gazpacho, the salad in a glass perfected by the Spanish and riffed on endlessly in the rest of the world. 

The classic recipe capitalizes on summer’s bounty: sun-ripened tomatoes, cucumber, pepper, onion, a raw garlic prickle of heat, a bit of volume from day-old bread, all of it heightened by a drizzle of oil, sherry vinegar, salt, and topped with minced bits of whatever you like: cucumber, avocado, tiny shrimp, shaved scallion. 

Gazpacho is thought to have originated in the eighth century in Europe, a bit gruel-like and monotone (according to britannica.com, the word is derived from the Arabic for “soaked bread”). It would take another eight centuries, in Andalucía, for the dish to morph into its modern form, when Spanish cooks added tomatoes and peppers, then newly imported from the New World. 

When it comes to wine pairing, you may wish to gauge the amount of vinegar you’re up against, but for me the rule of thumb is a white wine (or pink) with a mineral texture of pronounced salinity. I’m highlighting mostly Spanish wines here (because, duh) but there are dozens of wines that could stand in: Portuguese brancos, Arintos from the Azores, Italian Fianos and Falanghinas, Greek island Assyrtikos, Sardinian Vermentinos, Sicilian Grillos and Carricantes.

The proximity rule dictates that sherry ought to be the first bottle you reach for in pairing with gazpacho. Stick to fino, manzanilla, and amontillado, the trinity of wines most impacted by flor, the cloud of yeast that rests upon the surface of untopped sherry barrels; that mysterious melding of lees, air, and juice yields flavors of exceptional mineral tension and focus. 

Gazpacho Wine Pairings

NV Equipo Navazos La Bota de Fino 115 ($40)

There are many serviceable commercial finos in the market. Many are arresting, because sherry itself is arresting—salty, fiercely savory, cutting and sharp in texture. This one comes from a defiantly uncommercial bodega that specializes in small lots, usually blending from just a few casks. La Bota de Fino 115 went to bottle with an average wine age of eight years; it’s darker and has more stuffing than most finos. Earthy with an uncanny firmness and cut. (The same bodega makes an unfortified, flor-tinged Palomino called OVNI—softer, but worth checking out.)

2022 Gerardo Méndez Do Ferreiro Rías Baixas Albariño ($30)

Do Ferreiro has been one of the bodegas responsible for the great Albariño revival in Rías Baixas. The Méndez family, Gerardo and his father Francisco, have been stewards of old-vine plots for decades, with some vineyards going back 200 years. This bottling comes from younger vines, and right off the bat it’s more approachable, but don’t let the peach and Asian pear scents mislead you. The palate flavors are gripping and savory, a study in granitic dust and lees, dry, bracing, with a saline tang that gives your chilled soup an earthy frame. 

2022 Johan Vineyards Maceration White ($30)

Gazpacho has plenty of grip on the palate; the liquified tomato skins and that edge of sherry vinegar ensure that. So a skin-contact wine is a proper foil. This one, a biodynamic orange from Johan Vineyards, comes from Oregon’s windy Van Duzer Corridor, a conduit for ocean breezes pulled into the Willamette Valley on summer afternoons. A blend of Grüner Veltliner, Ribolla Gialla, Kerner, and Friulano, this is salmon-colored, with scents of wild strawberry and Basque cider. It’s as firm as it is mouthwatering. 

Gazpacho, Andalucian style

Adapted from Julia Moskin’s “Best Gazpacho” recipe in The New York Times. 

[Note: While tomatoes should remain the dominant paradigm here, you can fiddle as you like with the proportions of heat and acid, so that it’s calibrated to your preferences. Serious tomato lovers can keep the onion, garlic, and peppers to a minimum, and ease up on the vinegar, to make the soup as tomatoey as it can possibly be.]

• 2 lbs very ripe tomatoes
• 1 medium cucumber, peeled and seeded
• 1 mild-ish pepper (your choice: green, Anaheim, poblano)
• 1 or 2 cloves garlic, depending on your tolerance for raw garlic
• 1 small red or sweet onion
• ½ cup day-old bread, coarsely torn, crusts at a minimum
• ½ cup very good extra virgin olive oil
• 2 tbsp very good sherry vinegar
• Salt and pepper

Coarsely chop tomatoes, cucumber, pepper, and onion. Salt and pepper evenly and toss with the bread; let sit for 15 minutes. 

Combine tomatoes, cucumber, pepper, onion, bread, and garlic in a blender. Blend at progressively higher speed until smooth.

With the blades spinning, add vinegar. Through the lid aperture, slowly drizzle in the olive oil. The mixture should become smooth and emulsified, like a salad dressing. If it still seems watery, drizzle in more olive oil until texture is creamy. Adjust salt and pepper as needed. Chill until very cold, garnish with finely chopped fresh things like avocado, cucumber, and cherry tomatoes.