Tuesday, December 30, 2014



Eating October in December
Part 2

Tomatoes, tomatoes, tomatoes...

Yesterday, I took on the problem of old squash. Today I'll address the more universal problem of the tomato glut of early fall.

I usually plant too many Italian plum tomato plants, but I expect to freeze their fruit for the winter, so don't worry too much when my counter is covered with red orbs come the end of October. In the past I've made sauce and froze it and roasted halved tomatoes and froze them, but the fall produce season usually produces a glut of produce and not enough time to process it all. Over the years I've fallen into taking the easiest and least time-consuming way of dealing with all the tomatoes, a tip given to me years ago by a woman who had ten kids. (Note: Always listen to tips given by women who have ten children. They have learned how to become incredibly efficient in most areas of their lives, especially in the area of food storage and preparation.) This woman would pick and wash her tomatoes, cut out the stem end of each tomato and freeze them as is in freezer bags or plastic storage containers. I started doing this just to get the tomatoes off my counter before November. I also found that a frozen tomato, with a hole cut in the stem end, could easily be skinned by dipping the tomato in some lukewarm water for a minute and simply squeezing the tomato out of the skin. The remaining frozen orb could be thawed slightly, chopped and then thrown in soups or stews or chili. My favorite use of the frozen tomatoes in my freezer, however, is for a roasted tomato sauce. Below is the recipe. I just take the desired amount of frozen tomatoes out of the freezer, usually enough to cover the bottom of a roasting pan, put them in a bowl of lukewarm tap water, slip them out of their skins and put them into the roasting pan. Then follow this recipe:

Roasted Tomato Sauce

Desired amount of skinned, frozen plum tomatoes, enough to cover the bottom of a 13” x 9” roasting pan
2 - 4 cloves garlic, chopped
4 tablespoons olive oil
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
oregano and/or basil (optional)

Preheat oven to 425°. Put skinned, frozen tomatoes into a 13” x 9” baking pan. Add garlic, salt and pepper. Drizzle with olive oil. Roast until sauce is thick and jammy, about 40 - 60 minutes (sometimes longer if the tomatoes are very juicy). The consistency should be thick and saucy, but not dry. Add oregano and/or basil during the last ten minutes of roasting, if desired. Toss with pasta or use as a sauce on pizza.

This sauce is easy and really tastes like summer. 
 

***


About that 20-inch zucchini I mentioned yesterday?...well, I hacked off a piece of it, skinned it, cut out the seed area, thinly sliced it and popped it into the sausage tortellini soup I made for Christmas Eve (which also contained some of the skinned frozen tomatoes). No one knew I was serving them two month old zucchini. I think I'll shred the remaining piece and make a batch or two of mini-loaves of zucchini bread for the freezer...to keep the rest of the frozen tomatoes company...


If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold,
it would be a merrier world. - J.R.R. Tolkien

Monday, December 29, 2014


Eating October in December
Part 1

The Great Patty Pan Squash Experiment


I made squash soup last week. I used summer squash that I had grown in my garden this summer. They had been sitting on my counter since the middle of October. It's now December...

Many years ago I grew a squash that was described in the seed catalog as a summer squash if picked early, but a winter squash if left to harden on the vine. The winter version didn't look much different from its summer cousin, but it did have a tougher skin and stored well into the winter. When I returned from a two week vacation in the middle of October this year, I found a half dozen overgrown patty pan squash hiding under the fading leaves of a nearby zucchini plant. At that point they looked like a small invasion of flying saucers, large, with tough skins and, I was sure, large seeds inside as well. I picked them, put them on my kitchen counter, and ignored them for two months. I wondered if they would behave like the summer/winter squash I had grown years ago.

A few days before Christmas, in an effort to clear the counter before the holiday, I decided the time had come to test the long term viability of the patty pan squash. (I was also fresh out of dinner ideas that night...) I peeled the squash. (The skin was easier to peel than a butternut squash.) I seeded them (much like a pumpkin). The remaining flesh was white and firm. I steamed the flesh and let it cool. I then proceeded to make a generic creamed soup recipe using the steamed squash. The result was quite delicious, like an autumn squash soup, though the soup was, well, patty pan white...

I've included my recipe below. With the success of the patty pan soup, now maybe I'll be brave enough to do something with that 20 inch monster zucchini that's still sitting on the counter...

Cream of Squash Soup

¼ cup finely chopped onion
¼ cup butter
3 tablespoons flour
¼ teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon pepper
1 ½ cups chicken broth
1 ½ cups milk (up to a ½ cup may be half and half)
2 – 3 cups (approximately) of pureed summer squash
Nutmeg
Ginger

Sauté onion in butter until tender. Stir in flour, salt and pepper. Cook one minute, stirring constantly until smooth and bubbly. Gradually stir in chicken broth and half the milk; cook until slightly thickened, stirring constantly. Do not boil. Puree squash with half the milk in a food processor. Add squash mixture to thickened broth and heat through. Add ginger and a bit of nutmeg to taste.



Tomorrow

Eating October in December
Part 2

Tomatoes, tomatoes, tomatoes...



Americans have more food to eat than any other people and
more diets to keep them from eating it. - Yogi Berra

Monday, December 22, 2014


Just Say It...
 

Thank you, thank you, thank you...”

Sometimes I just have to say those words that way, three times in a row, in a rapid-fire manner, the words sometimes jubilant, sometimes infused with a sigh of relief, often both.

Thank you, thank you, thank you...”

I come home after a long day at work; my husband offers to order a pizza...

”Thank you, thank you, thank you...”

I'm late for an appointment and a prime parking spot opens up in front of the building I was supposed to be in two minutes ago...

”Thank you, thank you, thank you...”

After four months of trying to get a tiler to install a kitchen backsplash for my new kitchen, I finally find someone else to do the work...who does a beautiful job...and offers to change out the nine electrical outlets to match the new tiles...all finished a week before Christmas...

”THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU...!!!”

A cleanly hooked big bass; a beautiful sunset; finishing a long knitting project with only six inches of hard-to-find yarn left to spare; good medical test results; being narrowly missed by an aggressive driver on the interstate – very different situations ranging from the inconsequential to the potentially serious...

”Thank you, thank you, thank you...”

I'd like to say the attribute of gratitude comes naturally to me, that I see the random gifts thrown my way every day and appreciate them for what they are – precious gifts to be thankful for. But truthfully, I often miss them or see them as something other than precious. There is a painfully familiar scene in the episode, The Reichenbach Fall, in the PBS series Sherlock where Sherlock Holmes is being honored for his detective work in recovering a priceless painting. Upon being presented with a small wrapped gift, he shakes it and correctly deduces its contents:

Sherlock: Diamond cufflinks....All my cuffs have buttons...
John (to the presenter): He means thank you.
Sherlock: Do I?
John (to Sherlock): Just say it.
Sherlock: Thank you...?

Like Sherlock, I sometimes fail to see the relevance or value of some of the gifts I am presented with as I go about my day. As Christmas approaches, the stress and busyness of the season has me grumbling about all I have to do, much of it revolving around the giving and receiving of gifts. Like Sherlock, I can disconnect from what I am given and am giving and miss the whole point of the giving and receiving. Fortunately, I, too, have a John Watson at my side, an inner voice from the Spirit of the living God who reminds me to just say it – “Thank you” – for the busyness of the season, for the cleaning and cooking and shopping and everything else that makes me crazy . And when I first hear myself say it, it does sound a bit like Sherlock's “Thank you...?” but as I internally repeat the words, the tone of them changes, and I'm brought to a place of acute recognition of what is being celebrated during this time of often frantic gift-giving...

The Gift...

...The God/man invading our existence as a baby. The Son of the living God coming to restore our relationship with His heavenly Father...

(“Thank you...”)

...The Savior of the world, born on this earth in a stable, coming to live like one of us, but dying for each of us, for our sins, all of them - even that reticence to be grateful - taking all our failings with Him to the cross and then taking us with Him into the new eternal life of His resurrection...

(“Thank you, thank you...”)

...The Gift of Christmas is a Person, the One Who knows me better than I know myself, and loves me lavishly anyway...

(“Thank you, thank you, thank you...” the words now jubilant, infused with a joyous sigh of relief...)




Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it.
- William Arthur Ward