During my 3 years working in Boston, I lived a block away from Craigie on Main. It was my first introduction to a truly season restaurant, which meant that Tomatoes were only served in August and September (a fact that did bring some disappointment to some traditional burger lovers). I questioned the manager about this and it is always came back to quality. If they did not serve the very best, there was no reason to sell it at all.
Even with seasonality, I will still add tomatoes on top of a burger throughout the year, but that is becuase the tomato is not the star of the show. As J. Kenji Lopez-Alt explains in The Food Lab's BLT Manifesto, this is not the case with a BLT. He writes:
A BLT is not a well-dressed bacon sandwich. A BLT is a tomato sandwich, seasoned with bacon. From this basic premise, all else follows. Indeed, a better name for the BLT might well be the Tomato Club, for it is the perfect tomato, not the bacon, that is the rarest, the most ephemeral, the most singularly delicious ingredient. A BLT is not a democracy. It is not a committee meeting. It is a dictatorship, and the tomato is King, Queen, and Supreme Leader. In the BLT universe, the Prime Directive is that all other ingredients shall be at Her Majesty's service, their only role to prop her up and enhance her best qualities.
A BLT is one of those quintessential american sandwiches where you have to respect its simplicity. With only five things: bread, mayonnaise, bacon, lettuces, and of course tomato, you can make something magic. I don't eat them often, but it is the perfect lunch for a hot late august afternoon.
To read more and find out how to make the perfect BLT, click here.