I sing the praise of tomato!
Oh, how I love thee, ripe red fruit of my garden! Your skin trembles at my touch, bursting with tantalizing juice…
Ahem. Sorry. I love tomatoes. I love cooking with tomatoes. I love growing tomatoes, slicing, picking, squeezing, and thinking about them. Something about the color, taste, texture and sight of them invokes an almost reverent response from my soul. Seeing them waiting for me on my windowsill causes my heart to jump with glee.
I even like tomato stories. When I was a small girl, my mom told me about Grandpa Rossi-an immigrant from Italy, working the Chisholm Trail as a young cowboy in the late 19th century. Apparently after a dusty ride along the cattle trail, the exhausted cowboys would enjoy a rare spa treatment when coming back to town. Their skin would get cracked and dry by the wind and sun, and the only remedy to this condition was to acquire a good sized jar of canned tomatoes from your nearest general store or kind lady friend, open the jar, and proceed to smear its contents all over your aching face. I don’t know if this is a true story or just the stuff of family legend and myth, but it sounds great!
Tomatoes are good for you, inside and out, and tomatoes are tasty. Instinctually, when I pick up a fresh, ripe tomato, I want to immediately crush it in my grip. My fist longs to wrap itself around the tomato and watch the juice flow down my wrist. Admittedly my heart always tells me to turn them into sauce.
Now, a word about sauce. I know that many foodies may eschew the red sauce in favor of something more sophisticated, but with practice, great ingredients and some time, red sauce can become palatable again. It is an essential in my kitchen-whenever a pack of hungry pre-teens run through my house asking what’s for dinner, (that happens a lot these days!) I always set them to work making pizza or we have some pasta with guess what-red sauce. My daughter and her friends have come to enjoy the ritual of making their own eats. The bottled ‘spaghetti sauce’ that is readily available in grocery stores nation-wide are loaded with sugar, salt, and things I can’t pronounce. (I’m convinced the poor quality of these pseudo-sauces have given red sauce a bad name.) What you can make at home with a few simple ingredients is so superior to pre-made sauce. Once you try it, you won’t want to go back!
Here’s how:
Find the ripest red Roma tomatoes you can buy. Or grow them. Imagine the size of your sauce-pot. When I make sauce, I use a medium sized stock-pot, so I purchase a compatible quantity. I always manage to use all the tomatoes I purchase-they either end up in the sauce, or on the off-chance that a few stragglers are left over, I slice them up and eat them with a nice mixture of sea-salt and basil on top. Or you could put them in salad. Or just do as my husband does, and eat them like apples. Whatever floats your boat! The point is, don’t worry about the exact quantity-we’re cooking like great-grandma here, and we are going to trust ourselves to buy just the amount we need!
Once you have acquired the tomatoes, wash them, cut off the stems/tops and slice them into fourths. If seeds are an issue for you, then by all means pick them out. Personally, I always leave them in. (The same goes for the skin-I know you can buy them peeled, but I’m fond of the skin. Peel away if you wish.) Throw the sliced tomatoes into your pot along with a few tablespoons of good olive oil, smashed garlic cloves and some chopped onion. I suppose if you have a dislike to onion texture, you could use onion extract or onion powder. The same with garlic-just don’t use onion or garlic salt-that will cause a salty overloaded taste. Cover the pot and let it simmer on a low flame for a good while-check it often, because you don’t want this to burn. When the skins are all droopy, and the whole affair looks rather limp, then it’s time to grind!!!
Using a food processor is easiest. A blender will work, too. Simply grind the tomato-onion-garlic mixture until liquefied. Pour it back into your pot. That is your base. Now it’s time to have fun.
At this point, while the sauce is simmering over a low heat, I begin my hunt. Rooting around in my crisper, pantry, and spice rack, I look for the perfect combination of flavors and ingredients to complement my beautiful base. Here are some possible combinations, and of course, with instinctual-type cooking, anything goes, so feel free to mix-and-match.
1. Base sauce plus fresh chopped basil, ground black pepper, bay leaf, dash of oregano, pinch of sea salt, chopped garlic, flat leaf parsley. This produces a nice, clean, classic sauce. Simmer on a low flame until thickened slightly. You want to keep it slightly uncovered so the steam will escape, reducing the high water content of the tomatoes, producing a richer flavor. Once it is thickened to your satisfaction, discard the bay leaf and enjoy this sauce over the lightest of pasta, or keep it in your freezer to add to soups and stews. This one works well in recipes calling for tomato juice.
2. Base sauce, plus herbs and spices plus one chopped green pepper, handful of sliced mushrooms, and any other vegetable you like. I find chopped zucchini to be an interesting addition, as well as a bit of sliced chopped eggplant. Veggies give an earthy quality to sauce. Add a few splashes of chicken stock to round out the flavor. We enjoy this sauce on just about anything, and it’s nice to make pizza and calzones out of it, too. You can spoon it on little slices of ciabatta bread, and make crostini. Add lots of cheese! Grill or bake them till cheese is melted.
3. Base sauce, plus herbs and spices, plus veggies, plus a cup or two of cooked meat. This can be anything from sliced Italian sausage, to finely ground pruscuitto, to chopped leftover glazed pork chops or just plain ol’ humble ground beef, if you must. Just keep in mind, you can grind a perfectly seasoned steak in that food processor, too. No need to go out and buy a Styrofoam-encased lump of ground chuck. Meat makes a sauce heavy, and adds fat content. (It makes me sleepy!) It is best served over thick pasta that can stand the weight of the meat. Fusili bucati with a nice heavy meat sauce sprinkled with pecorino and a glass of red wine and my feet up and zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
When I wake up, I’ll tell you about bread.