Name: Easy Traditional Gazpacho Recipe
Prep time: 20 min
Total time: 20 min
Yield: 4 servings
Cuisine: Spanish
Ingredients: 6 ripe tomatoes, chopped; 1 cucumber, peeled and diced; 1 red bell pepper, chopped; 1 small red onion, diced; 2 garlic cloves, minced; 3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil; 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar; 1 teaspoon salt; ½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper; 1 cup cold water; Fresh basil or parsley for garnish (optional)

Catching Up Over a Bowl: Gazpacho Memories & Mishaps

So, here's the deal—every summer, without fail, I end up making gazpacho even if no one asks. I think I got hooked after a sweltering trip in Andalucía, where a local grandma (who probably thought I was lost) handed me a mug of bright red gazpacho. Bliss. I spill it all over my flip-flops, of course, but honestly? Worth it.

Anyway, after about a dozen attempts and the occasional blender disaster (don't ask about the red ceiling), I've landed on this version. It’s easy, super forgiving, and you don’t need to pretend you’re auditioning for MasterChef. Not a chance I'd nail that anyway.

Why I Find Myself Making This Over and Over

I make this when it’s roasting outside and I want to look like I’ve got my life together—but really just want cold soup I can slurp right out of a mug. My family always hovers in the kitchen for the first batch (sometimes they even help chop, though that's rare). I also throw it together when I find those slightly tired tomatoes sitting on the counter or when I'm too lazy to cook anything that takes heat or brainpower.

Sometimes the blender gets overambitious and creates a weird foam (don't worry, just chill it a bit), but the taste? Still ace. This recipe isn't precious; it loves leftover veggies and, on a hot day, so do I.

Alright, Here's What You Need (and What You Could Use Instead)

About 1 kg (2 pounds) ripe tomatoes – the redder, the better! (Once, I used some random cherry tomatoes since that's what I had, and honestly, they worked fine.)
½ a long cucumber, peeled if you like – but sometimes I just scrub it and chop, especially when rushing
1 red bell pepper (or yellow if that’s what’s lurking in the fridge; green's a bit harsh for me)
½ a small red onion – or a shallot if you want it milder; my gran always swore by white onion, though
1-2 cloves garlic, smashed (don’t go overboard unless you’re making vampire repellant)
3 tablespoons good olive oil (sometimes I just glug it in straight from the bottle, oops)
2 tablespoons sherry vinegar or red wine vinegar – I usually end up using red wine vinegar because, let's be honest, it’s already in my cupboard
1 thick slice of stale bread, crusts off (or not—sometimes I just tear up whatever’s going)
Salt and pepper, to taste
A handful of ice cubes (if you’re in a hurry to cool it, or just want it super chilled)

Making It—No Need for Perfection

1. Chop all the tomatoes, cucumber, pepper, and onion into big chunks. Shove them in a big bowl (sometimes I skip peeling the cucumbers—it’s never ruined anything!).
2. Add garlic, olive oil, vinegar, bread, and a good pinch of salt and pepper.
3. Let it all hang out for 10-30 minutes, if you've got the patience. The flavors like to mingle. (Honestly, sometimes I’m too hungry for this step.)
4. Tip the lot into a blender or food processor. Blitz until as smooth as you want. I like it with a bit of texture, but you do you.
5. Here’s where I usually sneak a taste. Adjust salt/vinegar/oil if it needs more pep. Sometimes it needs a pinch of sugar if the tomatoes are a bit sulky.
6. Now, strain through a fine mesh sieve if you’re into silky smooth soup (I usually skip this, but my friend Ana thinks it’s Essential with a capital E)
7. Pop in fridge at least 2 hours, or toss in handful of ice cubes for a speedy chill session.
8. Serve cold. Stir before serving; it sometimes separates and looks like a weird science experiment—that’s normal!

Notes (aka My Hard-Learned Gazpacho Truths)

If your tomatoes are bland, no amount of olive oil will truly rescue the flavor, but cranking up the vinegar can help. Actually, I find it works better if you let it sit overnight—the flavors get all cozy and richer. Oh, and don’t freak out if it’s a bit pale; it’s all about the tomatoes you use.

Wild Variations I’ve Tried (Some Winners, Some... Less So)

Once, I chucked in a peach, and surprisingly, it was lovely—just a touch of sweetness, perfect for a picnic. Jalapeño for some spice? Sure, did that last week, but I maybe overdid it (mouth was on fire). Watermelon instead of tomatoes? Didn’t hit the spot for me, honestly, but maybe you’ll love it! Try grilled veggies for a smoky twist if you’re in the mood.

Do You Need Fancy Equipment?

Not really! I usually use my old blender, but I’ve mashed everything with a potato masher before, and it was rustic but delicious. If all you have is a stick blender—go for it! Just be ready for the odd chunk sneaking by (which sometimes I actually like).

How to Store It (But Mine Rarely Survives Overnight)

Just pour any leftovers (if that ever happens; honestly, in my house it never does) into a jar or airtight container; keep in the fridge for up to 3 days. Remember to give it a good shake or stir as the layers like to separate overnight. I reckon it even tastes better on day two, but at that point it’s mostly wishful thinking.

How I Like to Serve It (Plus a Quick Tangent)

Ladle it into bowls or mugs, and add chopped cucumber, croutons, and maybe a drizzle of extra olive oil. Sometimes I do diced hard-boiled egg (Spanish friends taught me that). My nephew likes it with popcorn on top—which seemed odd, but now I sneak a bit of salted popcorn myself when no one’s looking. Oh, and if you’ve whipped up homemade sourdough croutons? Please, send some my way.

On weekends, I sometimes bring out a chunk of Manchego cheese and salted almonds to nibble alongside—completely extra, but you gotta live a little, right?

What I'd Do Differently Next Time—Lessons Learned

I once tried rushing the chilling step and regretted it because warm gazpacho... just tastes sort of wrong. Better to wait; even if it means you’re eating dinner a bit late. Can’t recommend blending while the lid’s loose—learned that the hard (messy) way. And maybe don’t try to double the recipe unless you’ve actually checked the blender has the space (I now speak from experience).

The Questions People Actually Ask Me (Yes, Even the Strange Ones)

Isn’t it basically salsa?
Not really—it’s way more soup than dip! But I get why you’d wonder.

Can I skip the bread?
Sure, you can leave it out or go gluten-free—just makes it a bit less creamy. I’ve swapped in a smashed potato once and it was... weirdly good.

Why is mine kind of pink?
That’s totally normal if you used lighter tomatoes (or over-blended and added air). It’ll taste just fine.

Do I have to peel the tomatoes first?
Heck no. I never do—life’s too short.

What goes with this for a meal?
I usually have crusty bread, olives, or sometimes a Spanish tortilla if I’m feeling ambitious. For more Spanish meal ideas, this blog has great suggestions, and Serious Eats always has in-depth tips if you want to geek out a bit.

So there you go. Summery, slurpable, and impossible to ruin (unless you forget the tomatoes—don’t ask). If you give it a whirl, let me know how it goes—unless something catches fire. Then maybe don’t mention it.

Easy Traditional Gazpacho Recipe