While my fellow blogger Jason Oliver Nixon jets between London and New York City, I’ve just returned from Stockholm. Wisconsin. You know, from the heirloom tomato festival?

Heirloom tomatoes (also called “heritage” tomatoes in the U.K.) are distinct from most tomatoes that are bred to grow fast and ripen while on the way to the store. Heirlooms are “open-pollinated” or “non-hybrid” tomatoes, and they come in all shapes, sizes and colors. Although not all of them are terrific, many of them stand far above their grocery store cousins in terms of flavor and texture. And a platter arrayed with a selection of vivid yellow, red, green and purple heirlooms is a stunning homage to summer.

So with as much enthusiasm as I suspect Jason feels when he boards the Hamptons Jitney, I drove a little over an hour from my home in St. Paul, Minnesota, on a perfect Sunday morning along the Mississippi River into the rolling hills of the Wisconsin countryside to taste more than 50 varieties of heirlooms, from Aunt Ruby’s German Green to Purple Russian and Velvet Red, courtesy of Blooming Hill Farm.

And while there was no Jerry Della Femina to greet along the way (he of the eponymous restaurant in East Hampton), I did stop along the single street in tiny Maiden Rock, Wisconsin, to chat with Ms. Vigal Tiffany (AKA “The Pickle Lady”), who has a table-top stand next to the Smiling Pelican Bake Shop, where I managed to pass up a slice of passion fruit cream pie. Self restraint also kept me from burying my face in an entire banana cream pie—I figured I’d reward myself on the way back. Which turned out to be a big mistake.

Ms. Virgal Tiffany

Anyway, the lovely Virgal Tiffany has been canning fruits and vegetables for 75 years, so she’s gotten pretty good at it. I stocked up on a big jar of pickles; two huge Bell jars of a tomato soup, thick with other veggies; and a jar of strawberry-rhubarb jam. You should, too, before the weather turns chilly and Virgal shuts down her outdoor sales operation.

I arrived at the Maiden Rock Apples farm (located in Stockholm, despite the farm’s name) just as the tomato tasting began, which meant I didn’t have to fight a crowd to get to the good stuff. Inside a big modern barn, tables filled with plates of sliced-up tomatoes beckoned. Entrance fee: $5.

The yellow and purple tomato tasting table.

The tasting barn.

I tasted every offering and was amazed that I was still enthusiastic about eating Diane Fink’s warm heirloom tomato tartlet bathed in olive oil, balsamic vinegar and shallots with a topping of cheese. I’ve been a tomato fan for 40 years, and once upon a time, I was happy to make a lunch of a thick slice of beefsteak or heirloom tomato with mayonnaise and pepper between two slices of white bread. Now I like to pair great tomatoes with seafood or a steak. Which is why I bought a sack of red, orange and green heirlooms to take home.

An heirloom tomato tartlet.

It would have been a perfect Sunday except that I underestimated the demand for that pie at the Smiling Pelican. When I stopped back in about two hours after first eyeing the goods, they were sold out. I wondered what Jason would have done, but it was my fault. I’d violated my first rule of the road: If you see something you want, buy it. Don’t plan on returning. Firstly, you may not have the opportunity to return, and secondly, what you covet might be gone when you do return. Especially cream pies.

I knew better, I didn’t follow my own advice, and I paid the price. But given the sun on the Mississippi and the stash of tomatoes as well as Virgal’s homemade stuff in my backseat, it wasn’t difficult to keep my spirits from sagging.