Roasted cherry tomato sauce

Remember those under-performing tomatoes I was whining about a couple of weeks ago? Well, the Blessed Virgin of Visquine has performed a miracle right in our little old backyard and we have tomatoes -- cherry tomatoes in particular -- coming off the vine by the truckload. The heirloom, Tigerella, is coming along nicely -- her fruit is tiny but toothsome.

But those cherry tomatoes.

Marginal citizen farmers that we are, the Wonderfully Patient Spouse and I cannot harvest these little jewels fast enough. As a result, quite a few split open and develop "butt cracks" as the WPS puts it so well. They're still mighty tasty, just not pristine in appearance and as a result, the WPS will have nothing to do with them. Which leaves us with a fair amount of cherry tomatoes. And which leads me to:

Roasted Cherry Tomato Sauce

Note: I managed to accumulate 5 cups of cherry tomatoes (with an assist from a couple smallish Tigerellas). Adjust the recipe accordingly depending on the quantity of tomatoes you're dealing with.

About 5 c cherry tomatoes (butt cracks and all)

1/2 onion, rough chopped

2 healthy stalks fresh oregano

2 stalks fresh rosemary

4 cloves garlic, smashed

2 T capers

Handful of pitted kalamata (or your favorite) olives

1 T red wine

Oozle of extra virgin olive oil

Salt and pepper to taste

Large pinch of sugar

@ 1 c crushed San Marzano tomatoes (I just happened to have an open can of San Marzanos in the fridge that coincidentally equaled a cup. Change up the quantity according to the amount of cherry tomatoes, but do use the San Marzanos!)

Preheat oven to 250 degrees.

Spread cherry tomatoes, onion, herbs, garlic, capers and olives in a single layer in a baking dish. Drizzle with olive oil, wine and sprinkle with salt, pepper and sugar. Roast for about 15-20 minutes, then give the boys a stir.

Continue roasting for another 45 minutes or so or till the concoction looks like this:

Now, the best part. Turn on the broiler in your over, slide the roasting pan in and broil the tomato mix till its brown. Stir and repeat.

Toss in a blender with the San Marzano tomatoes and give it whirl till quasi-chunky/smooth or straight-up smooth -- whatever makes your eyes blink when it comes to a tomato sauce.

Taste and adjust flavor with salt, pepper and/or sugar. Use with pasta, meats, as a base for soup, whatever. The world is your oyster, or would that be tomato? You decide.

From farm to table: Tomatoes

What about all the innocent tomatoes?

OK, there's a small story behind this. Many moons ago, when I was still a blushing young bride, I awoke in the middle of the night to the sounds of the Wonderfully Patient Spouse thrashing madly about the bed in his sleep.

He appeared to somewhat conflicted.

This went on for several seconds until he flung up his arms (still sound asleep) and demanded indignantly, "WHAT ABOUT ALL THE INNOCENT TOMATOES?"

Of course, I regaled his family about this odd proclamation at the next tribal gathering and the phrase stuck. It even became a corporate tagline for a time.

But today, I come before you and ask, "What DO we do about all the innocent tomatoes?"

When the grand experiment called When Pigs Fly Farm started last spring, I truly believed I would not see a tomato this growing season. The tomato gods have proved me wrong. I have tomatoes up the kazoo.

Not that I'm complaining or anything.

The challenge at hand is what to do with them.

The cherry tomatoes are no problem. Just gather them up, slap them in plastic bags, throw one to my apartment-based work pal, Sporter, every couple of days and take the rest to the food bank.

The big heirlooms are a different kettle of tomatoes entirely. They have a shorter shelf life and just beg to be eaten (or otherwise dealt with) a day or two after picking. Plus, they are not the perfect genetically engineered red orbs you pick up at the grocery store. My heirlooms are straight up funny looking -- big and blowsy and peppered with odd little dimples and cracks. In fact, the other night, one of Farmer Jim's friends said my Mr. Stripeys looked like pumpkins!

So am I in a race to consume these jewels -- or preserve their wonderful summer essence -- using as many recipes as possible. I am not a canner -- the idea of being 5' 2" (and shrinking) and dealing with large kettles of scalding hot water and small jars has never been very appealing. So fresh I am.

You've seen my caprese salad and read about my roasted cherry tomato sauce. Here are a couple more (home runs, if I do say so myself) tomato treats that I've cooked up over the week or so.

 
Farmer Jim's Picante Sauce
I snuck into FJ's recipe vault and snatched it while he wasn't looking! It's de-lish.

1 large white onion, chopped
1 fresh jalapeno pepper, chopped
6 medium sized ripe tomatoes, chopped
½ t salt
1 T sugar
1/4 c fresh chopped cilantro
2-4 cloves garlic, chopped (I'm of a school that if 2-4 gloves of garlic are good, then 3-6 are better. That's my story and I'm stickin' to it.)
6 tablespoons olive oil
½ T cumin (Again. If 1/2 T cumin is good, then 1 T is better. That's my story and I'm stickin' to it.)

And shhhh. Don't tell Farmer Jim, but I added a liberal pinch of dried red chili peppers. DO IT! You will not regret.

Saute garlic and onions in olive oil till onions and garlic are tender but not brown. Set aside for a moment

Blend tomatoes until chunky with cilantro and put in a pot with sliced jalapeno.

Add sugar, salt, pepper and cumin.

Add onion/garlic mix. Heat, then simmer for about 30 minutes. I got three 8-ounce jars of sauce.

No-cook Spaghetti Sauce
Adapted from "Cooking Light"
Odd as it may sound, it's refreshing and wonderful. Tuck this one away for a warm night next summer.

1 lb dry spaghetti (other pastas are ok, too. Just be sure to use the dry version. They hold the sauce better.)
2 c chopped tomato (about 5 medium tomatoes - fresher the better)
1 c crumbled ricotta salata or feta cheese
1/3 c chopped pitted kalamata olives
1/4 c capers
1 1/2 T extra virgin olive oil
3/4 t salt
1/2 t black pepper
4 garlic cloves, minced (Remember the Bermtopian Rule of Garlic: More is better)
Pinch of a ground red pepper flakes

Cook pasta according to package directions, omitting salt and fat. Drain.

Combine tomato and remaining ingredients in a large bowl. Add pasta, and toss well to combine. Serve immediately.

Note: Play around with this recipe. Try chopped fresh basil -- or omit the ricotta/feta cheese and coat (and I mean, coat) with good-quality freshly grated parmesan. The world is your tomato.

And finally.

Oven-dried Tomatoes
This is about as close as you'll get to tomato crack.

Fresh tomatoes
Extra virgin olive oil
Fresh ground pepper
Garlic, sliced or chopped, optional


Pre-heat oven to 250 degrees. Rub a baking sheet with a light layer of olive oil.


Slice tomatoes (about 1/4-inch thick is good, but don't get all emo if some are thicker than others) and layer on the baking sheet. A little overlapping is OK.


Drizzle olive oil over tomatoes and sprinkle with pepper (and garlic if you're using it).

Pop in the oven and bake for 1 1/2 to 2 hours, giving the boys a toss and re-layer about half way through the cook time. Turn off over and let tomatoes cool in the oven.

Use in salads, sauces, salad dressings, as a topping. Let your tomato imagination run wild!

There are no wrong answers.

The news from When Pigs Fly Farm

CHECK. IT. OUT.

There are a number of words that come to mind as I think about When Pigs Fly Farm this week.

Water. Water. Water.

Naturally, because school started this week and the city pools are closed for the season, temperatures finally shot up into the mid-90s for more than 45 minutes. That's right, we've finally managed to cobble together about 5 consecutive days of hot weather. My bones love it. My petunias love it (although, they're starting to look a little niggly as we approach the end of their growing season). And Team Tomato at WPFF loves it.

Well, well, well. Look who's finally getting with the program -- Mr. Stripey!

Harvest. Harvest. Harvest.

Team Tomato is making its move. Snowberry, the cherry heirloom, all but jumps into my picking container, and guess who had a Cherokee Purple caprese salad for dinner this week?

Yumm. Caprese salad. So easy, so simple -- fresh tomato, sliced, and fresh mozzarella, sliced (none of that pizza stuff, puh-leeze), topped with fresh chopped basil and a balsamic reduction.

From Farm to Table: WPFF Balsamic Reduction

1 cup balsamic vinegar
1/4 cup honey

Simmer on low for 4 hours (Yes. Really. 4 hours). This will make your toes curl up when you drizzle it on salads, steaks, chicken. Well, pretty much anything edible.
 
Farmer Jim has gone into the picante sauce manufacturing business with his tomatoes. (I had a taste a couple nights ago -- delicious. I will wrestle the recipe away from him and share it here soon.) And there are already two quarts of Roasted Cherry Tomato Sauce in my freezer.

Flowers. Flowers. Flowers.

The sunflowers are in their glory. I love these guys.

I've never grown sunflowers before, but I am addicted now. There will be a spot for them in all future gardens. They are jubilant, almost defiant, sentinels of the last days of summer, helping us deny ignore the fact the days are getting shorter, the nights cooler, and yes, there are hints of yellow and red in the trees above.

Oh yes. I do love these guys.

The news from When Pigs Fly Farm 2.0

All summer long I have been watching my two potato plants grown with mounting trepidation. The foliage has gotten bigger, bigger and bigger (even bigger than my summer squash plant and THAT’s saying something), threw off lovely little lavender blossoms by the dozens and gave absolutely NO CLUE to what was happening in the ground down below.

I’m a visual sort of person when it comes to growing vegetables. I like to see buds, the starts of mini cukes, tomatoes, eggplant, beans, whatever. So the potato gig was pretty much unbearable for me – although the plants themselves really hit it out of the park in terms of visual attractiveness. . . if you can call two potato plants approaching the size of year-old grizzly cubs attractive.

Bear's-eye view of a potato plant

I was pestered with all the doubts I voiced when they went into ground back in May. What if they got scab or blight or whatever they call the crud behind mass potato fatalities? How would I know if they were being ravaged by insatiable six-legged subterranean terrorists? What if their barren shoots were down there laughing their heads off at my audacity to attempt potatoes?

There were no answers. Just one more handful of lovely little lavender blossoms lifted away by a late summer breeze.

The moment of truth cane a week ago Saturday. Twenty-something Farmanatrix Kate, who is Farmer Jim’s youngest recently returned from a year’s adventures in Chicago, announced firmly, “Mary, it’s time to harvest your potatoes.”

I took Farmanatrix Kate at her word. She has experience as a community gardener. And with potatoes.

“I love potatoes. Can I be there when you harvest?” she asked.

Damn straight you can, Farmanatrix Kate. You’re leading the charge, honey!

And so we found ourselves crouching around the plants that humid Saturday afternoon, carefully stabbing and shifting the ground around each plant. And, then, lo and behold, there were potatoes. Dozens upon dozens of adorable miniature fingerlings – two, three, four strung together on sturdy little potato vines. We were surrounded by potatoes, so many that in the end we split the booty because my date and I could not humanly consume that many spuds, delicious as they have proven to be.

My spuds had survived, thrived and arrived.

And on that note, I share a dandy recipe for potatoes and green beans -- another WPFF crop that has proven ever-so-bountiful. Note: I am really digging finding recipes where I can use two or three crop items in one fell swoop. Last night was Rock Star -- summer squash burgers topped with summer squash relish and the salad below.

Now only 45 squash, 25 cukes, 9 Japanese eggplant and 4 dozen beans to go.

Warm Fingerling Potato and Snap Bean Salad (6-8 servings)
From "From the Cook's Garden" by Ellen Ecker Ogden (fabulous cook book! thanks, DZ!)

6 slices bacon (Ellen, you had me at "bacon")
2 lbs fingerling or small red-skinned potatoes, scrubbed and unpeeled
4 oz green beans, trimmed
1/3 c basil-flavored (I just used our "good" balsamic)
1 t Dijon mustard
1 t whole-grain mustard (Ogden recommends Moutarde de Meaux. I used Koops.)
1 garlic clove, minced
1/2 c olive oil
1/4 finely minced fresh herbs, preferably a combination of parsley, summer savory and chives (hate parsley and didn't have summer savory; used oregano and chives instead and lived to tell the tale)
1 medium red bell pepper, roasted and cut into 1/4-inch wide strips (DO THIS -- it's easy: Just take a red pepper, seed and cut in half and put under the broiler, skin side up, and broil till the skin is slightly charred)
1/4 c finely chopped fresh basil
Salt and pepper to taste

Cook the bacon in a skillet over medium heat till crisp and brown, about 8 minutes. (Resist eating about half of it like I did.) Transfer to a paper towel to drain and cool, then crumble.

Bring a saucepan of lightly salted water to a boil over high heat. Add the the potatoes and reduce heat to medium. Cook till the potatoes are tender, about 10 minutes. Using slotted spoon or skimmer, removed the potatoes but retain the water. Rinse potatoes under cold water and set aside to cool slightly. Cut into 1/4-inch rounds.

Add green beans to the water and cook till barely tender, about 3 minutes. Drain and rinse under cold water. Cut beans into 1-inch lengths.

Whisk the vinegar, mustards and garlic in salad bowl. Gradually whisk in the oil, add the herbs. Add the potatoes, green beans and red pepper strips and mixed. Mix in what remains of the bacon, sprinkle with the basil and season with salt and pepper. Serve warm.

Note: We did not serve warm since a couple friends of the Number 1 Son dropped by just as I was whisking up the dressing. They left about 20 minutes later, ladened with summer squash, cukes, cherry tomatoes, taters and Japanese eggplant with threats of more to be left on their doorstep.

The salad was delicious nonetheless.