Tuesday, September 27, 2011

A Bushel of Roma Tomatoes...with My Name On It

So, we're walking around the Minneapolis Farmer's Market last Saturday picking up the usual stuff--corn on the cob, green beans, squash, etc.--and I see these bushels of Roma tomatoes.  Right away I'm thinking about big pots of tomato sauce bubbling on the stove and how it will be so great to have this fresh sauce at the ready for the winter months.  But I walk away.  Are you crazy?  You've got too much to do.  You don't have time for that right now.  Keep moving.

We bring a couple of bags back to the car and decide to head back to share a cinnamon roll and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.  We still have time on our parking spot, and the rolls did look really good.  Okay.  But I'm not saying anything out loud about those Roma tomatoes.

We're trying to get the sticky frosting off of our hands and walking through a few more rows of booths just to make sure we didn't miss anything, and I say, "Look at those bushels of Roma tomatoes.  Do you think I should get one a make tomato sauce." 
Now it's out there, and my husband looks very interested. 
"Would you make some of your Putanesca sauce?", he asks.
"I could."
"It's totally up to you.", he adds.  This is code for, "If you do get a whole bushel of tomatoes, don't expect me to get involved in your hair-brained scheme.  Just call me when it's ready to eat."

Now we're lugging about twenty-five pounds of Roma tomatoes back to the car, and I'm trying to figure out how many onions and heads of garlic I need and whether or not I still have enough fresh basil and Italian parsley in the garden to season the sauce.

In case you succumb to the temptation of a bushel of tomatoes, here's what I've learned over the years to make the process easier and, I don't mind saying, the final product darn tasty.
1) Don't bother peeling and seeding the tomatoes.  Cut them into chunks, eliminating the spot where the stem was attached, and toss them in the blender in batches to puree.  You can put them through the food mill to get rid of the larger bits of seeds and skin if you want.  I used to, but don't bother anymore.  We don't mind it.
2) If you add good stuff to a sauce--good stuff that you like--the sauce will be good.  I don't use a recipe.  If you like onion, add onion.  If you like lots of garlic, add lots of garlic.  You get the idea.  I  put in onion, garlic, olive oil, basil, oregano, parsley, and tomato paste.  Later I might add olives, Italian sausage, peppers--whatever I want--to this basic sauce before I toss it with pasta.
3) Freeze it.  I used to can my sauce; I don't anymore.  It doesn't taste any different to me, and it saves me that extra step.

Twelve Quarts of Tomato-y Goodness

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Pickled Peppers

Pounds of peppers.  At least that's what seems has been coming out of the garden this summer.  Last Saturday I noticed that the Farmer's Market booths were plenty lousy with them too, so I'm not the only one experiencing a pepper boon.

I'll even admit that when I picked this last batch of jalapenos, they almost ended up getting tossed in the compost heap when no one was looking, but I couldn't do it.  I just couldn't waste them.

So, as long as I was doing a marathon kitchen session anyway, I decided to add some more Pickled Peppers to the pantry.  The last batch were Sweet Banana Peppers; this time it's straight up Pickled Jalapenos.

This was no fuss.  Vinegar, water, olive oil, salt, pepper, and a few pickling spices.  Quick chop of the peppers, pack them into clean jars, process, and done.  Toppings for enough Nachos for the entire neighborhood.

Tonight I have a clean refrigerator, fresh Cucumber Soup chilling in that clean refrigerator, a bowl full of Marinating Vegetables for dinner, and couple of jars of pesto.  It's definitely harvest time.