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buried treasure

September 5, 2011

We are smack in the middle of tomato season and it’s very difficult to pass a farm stand without procuring a bag of this local booty.  Heirlooms and Romas caught my eye.  The Heirlooms were devoured with the usual, balsamic, EVOO, chopped fresh oregano and Buffalo Mozzarella.  Nice.! My favorite path to take with plum tomatoes  is to release the big flavors buried in these little fruit.  What’s nice about this method is its simplicity.  Slice and place on a olive oil-sprayed parchment paper-lined pan.  Sprinkle with salt and put in a 200 degree oven until desired texture (3-5 hours).  These little tomato “candies” are great in pastas,  pizzas,  omelettes, etc… .  Do yourself a favor and release the flavor.

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3 Comments leave one →
  1. Marjolaine (Geener) permalink
    September 8, 2011 11:52 am

    Tomatoes…A familiar classroom debate…Fruit or vegetable?? (Scientifically considered a fruit of a plant it is used as a vegetable for cooking!)

    I too, cannot pass a farm stand without taking a couple off their hands. The lunch table in my office collects the overflow of my co-workers gardens and on any given day there will be 15 of assorted varieties. It makes me wonder… Why, with such an abundance in my backyard, does my Wendy’s Single have a mutant slice peeking from under the bun???

    It was not until I reached my 20s that I came to appreciate the monumental task of canning tomatoes my mother undertook every August before the start of school. Rosemary, equipped with a picnic table, umbrella, washtub, Oster blender to puree, Ball mason jars, and a 25- foot extension cord, would prepare numerous jars in the yard while watching “As the World Turns” on a portable black & white. The fruits of her labor over the course of several weeks rewarded us with delicious sauces all winter long and served as the base for pasta fagioli, polenta, bruschetta, vegetable soups, and steak pizzaiola.

    I was just 7 years old when a raging house fire began in the basement of our home. Fiery embers from the fireplace ash dump ignited the floor to ceiling canning cabinet in the basement. I can still see my mother’s tears as she heard the “pop” “pop” “pop” of the shattering glass.

    Six months spent living in a Howard Johnson yielded a renovated house from October to April. Mom didn’t can tomatoes that summer. In fact, she never canned again, no doubt from the sense of loss she would feel after cleaning up gallons of “roasted tomatoes” off the basement floor. At that age, had I a better understanding of the physical and emotional investment my mother put into those jars, I would have gladly stopped turning cartwheels in the yard for a bit, and pressed the “PULSE” button to help my mother puree…

    • donnybuffet permalink*
      September 9, 2011 10:07 pm

      Geener my delicious subscriber,
      Once again your comment inspires me to get smarter, cook more, and search for more delectable treats to share with my favorite foodie. You have an extraordinary genius of transforming my culinary experience into a literary narrative that validates my efforts and exploits your love of cooking. We need to get it on in the kitchen together. You rock!
      Love you Geener,
      DBuffet

  2. April 4, 2012 10:16 pm

    That is definitely something creative!

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