It seems almost a shame to be writing about BLTs in the middle of May, months from tomato season, but when a craving hits, it hits hard. It’s straightforward, humble and easy to make, so you’d be forgiven for thinking a BLT is nothing more than a simple sammie, but with its symphony of crunchy, savory, salty and juicy, it is actually high art.

The blueprint is baked into the name, a triumvirate of bacon, lettuce and tomato that yields an unassailable classic, if done correctly. The key is not skimping on the quality of ingredients — a sandwich this simple is a delicate balance, and using any ol’ bacon, lettuce or tomato will taste of mediocrity and wasted potential.

Food culture these days may fool you into believing that bacon is the star here — our country is breathless for bacon-wrapped anything — but don’t be bamboozled. Tomatoes, those flavor-packed ephemeral globes of sweetness and acidity, are the true highlight of a BLT. Juicy, meaty, piquant tomatoes are proof that God loves us. Unfortunately, we can’t have perfect tomatoes year-round, so seek out the best you can.

OK, fine, I lied: Bacon is the Thelma to tomato’s Louise, or Fred Astaire to Ginger Rogers. In tandem, bacon and tomato dance a life-affirming pas de deux of savory/sweet, salty/juicy, crispy/tender. To cut corners here would be to dash all your efforts in finding the best tomato — don’t give up now. Avoid, if possible, store-brand packs of bacon, which often taste briny without much else going for them. They’re fine in a pinch, but compared with less-processed versions are only salty, rather than a complex balance of salty, smoky and porky. Opt for thick cut, dry-cured bacon — thicker bacon adds substantial bite to this sandwich, while the dry-cure method imparts deeper flavors compared with liquid-injected varieties. Also consider wood-smoked bacon, which contributes a complementary smokiness.

Though sandwiched between B and T, lettuce brings a game of its own. Fresh romaine or iceberg varieties are clutch here, slightly sweet in their own way but, more important, a textural go-between for bacon and tomato. Perfectly serviceable in leaf form, the lettuce when shredded does double duty, offering up crunch and texture while also creating a layer of nooks and crannies to catch errant juices dripping from the tomato.

Of course, all three components need a home. A pliable bread like Pullman’s or something equally soft-yet-structured is a good bet. Just be sure it’s slightly toasted and shellacked with a creamy mayonnaise. Once you’ve indulged in the classic, go for a twist, like the lobster and skewered versions here.

Either way, admire your masterpiece for but a second. Now comes the moment, to paraphrase William Faulkner, to kill your darling.

jbhernandez@chicagotribune.com

Twitter @joeybear85