You know summer is around the corner when the insipid and pale excuses for a tomato, which litter the supermarket shelves over the cold winter months are finally replaced by the real thing – deep red and fragrant  – still smelling of the vines.

I’ve been waiting for months now to eat a proper tomato, so I’ve kept it simple – the smallish cherry variety, quartered and placed in a bowl with some rocket, torn pieces of buffalo mozzarella, a good dribble of olive oil, and some salt and pepper. I also like to serve it with a big blob of my basil cream sat in the middle.

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