Canning Craze

It's that time of the summer when the produce starts rolling in faster than we can eat it. We've been especially overrun with tomatoes, despite the blight and crappy weather--not that I'm complaining. The tomatoes we're getting from the farm are fabulous, but I was starting to run out of ways to prepare them. I was having the same problem with all the summer squash we were getting. My solution--tomato sauce, homemade, canned, and put aside for January, when a hot bowl of pasta with yummy summer veg would be most welcome.

So, that was my project on Sunday. While the sauce was simmering, I blitzed up some pesto, using the enormous bunch of basil I got from the farm last Wednesday, and canned that too (waste not, want not!) The sauce turned out beautifully, and I now have five jars of it, sealed and sitting in my makeshift closet pantry, just waiting for those chilly winter days.

Summer Pasta Sauce

1 large summer squash (zucchini or yellow squash)

1 medium onion or 2 small onions, minced

2 cloves garlic, minced

4-5 large tomatoes, chopped small

1/2 bell pepper (any color)

your favorite herbs (I used a few leaves of fresh basil and thyme)

Olive oil

Salt and pepper to taste

Heat a deep saute pan over medium heat. Add enough olive oil to coat the bottom. Add onions and garlic and saute until the onions are just transparent. Add squash and stir. Saute for a few minutes, until the squash just starts to color and cook a little.

Add the tomatoes, stir, and simmer for about five minutes, stirring frequently to keep them from sticking to the pan.

Add the herbs and peppers and simmer the sauce about 5-10 minutes, until it reduces and thickens slightly. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Can in sterilized jars for later use or refrigerate.

**Cook's note: if you don't mind a wetter, slightly thinner sauce, you don't have to bother seeding the tomatoes. If you want your sauce thicker, though, gut the tomatoes before adding them to the sauce***

The Tomato Extravaganza

Despite the blight and the uncooperative weather, tomato season has come to New Jersey, and Restaurant Serenade in Chatham celebrated with their annual Tomato Extravaganza. As a major perk of the job, A. and I scored seats at the press table for the dinner, which was fabulous.

I'd been meaning to try Serenade for a while--their menus sound amazing, and I wasn't disappointed. The five-course meal kicked off with tomato cocktails (we tried the tomato water with, presumably, spicy vodka, which was interesting. What the heck is tomato water, anyway?) and some little bites before progressing to amazingly velvety corn soup, halibut, fried green tomatoes, little bison burgers, and a particularly inventive tomato bread pudding with an outstanding basil ice cream--quite the inventive take on the traditional tomato basil salad.

To my (kitchen nerd) delight, I got to chat with the chef/owner before the dinner, and in doing so I learned a couple of things:

1. The cold, wet weather has played hell with the tomatoes. Apparently, hot, sunny days are needed to get great, sweet, ripe tomatoes. Even the ones that ripened properly have a watery flavor this year. I had no idea.
2. This unfortunate situation required a complete overhaul of the evening's menu. A last-minute overhaul, by the sound of it. Apparently, in years past, the tomatoes have been the star of the show, but this year they were relegated to more of a supporting player role because the flavor wasn't all there. No matter, everything was still delicious, and I loved the gazpacho served in a small, hollowed-out tomato that served as a side for one of the entrees.

As a bonus, the farmer who grows Serenade's tomatoes (and peaches, and...well, almost all their produce, really) was on hand to answer diners' questions in a dessert-time Q&A. I learned more about tomatoes and cutting back peach trees during that 20-minute session than I thought I ever would. Maybe someday I'll put it to good use and manage to keep a plant alive for a change. Well, a girl can dream, can't she?

Quick and Easy Does It

Thankfully, the fajitas went better than the scallops.

On the occasional Sunday, I volunteer with a local animal shelter, handling a dog when they do adoptions at the pet store down the road. I love doing it, I really do, but it is surprisingly tiring. Yesterday, they sent an adorable puppy named Josie, who was great, but rambunctious, so I was more zapped than usual by the time I dragged myself home. Fortunately, I had an easy dinner planned.

Last week, I tried out my magazine's recipe of the month: a grilled Southwest-style beef, marinated in spices and lime juice. It was quite delicious, and there was plenty left over for fajitas. I grabbed some whole-wheat wrappers when I went food shopping Friday (a more difficult process than you'd think--I found myself standing in the aisle, holding three different types of whole wheat fajita wrapper, trying to figure out which one was the healthiest. I went for the one with the most recognizable ingredients).

I had some kidney beans in the cupboard, so I sauteed some onions and jalapenos with them and mashed the whole thing up to make a sort of refried bean. It tasted slightly bland, even with salt, so I added a little chili powder and a squeeze of fresh lime. Much better. As for the meat--that just had to be heated through, with some onions, jalapenos, and sliced green peppers from the organic farm. A little shredded cheese, some chopped Jersey tomatoes, and warmed fajita wrappers and we had a very satisfying dinner in under 20 minutes. The best kind!

Who Can't Cook?

A startling number of my friends claim they can't cook. I'm not sure I buy it. I have yet to meet anyone in real life who doesn't know how to turn on an oven or a stove and put a pot in or on it. Know how to boil water? Toss in an egg or some pasta--you're cooking!

I think what people who say they can't cook actually mean is that they don't know how ingredients go together. They don't know how flavors work together. They've got the basic fundamentals, but they don't know how to take the next step, look at what they have in the refrigerator, and make a full meal out of it. That can be tough, and intimidating. It takes practice. I used to be in awe of my mother when I was young, because she could do that, and because I watched and helped her do it, once I moved out of my parents' home, I could do it too. My roommates were amazed!

That's intuitive cooking, to me. Looking at a few ingredients, grabbing the ones that go well together, tossing them in a pan, and putting it on a plate. I do it almost every day--rarely do I use an actual recipe (except when baking, but that's a whole other thing). Of course, to be able to do this, you have to know what all the ingredients taste like, which means you have to eat. A lot.

Eating, sadly, has been stigmatized in this country. Unlike in France, where food is a sensual experience, or Italy, where it's all about nourishment and family, here in the US food has, for many years, been looked at askance. It makes us fat! No it doesn't. Too much junk food makes you fat. Good food--fresh food--is a good thing.

Happily, it seems that Americans are starting to come around on the idea of food. There are trainee foodies everywhere, and God knows how many food blogs, so there's hope yet. I'm happy about that, because food has put up with so much abuse--coming out of cans for decades, bizarre flavor combinations--that it's about time fresh food started being appreciated again. It's no longer impossible to find a nice cut of meat or a great farmers' market (at least in NJ, where I live). Food is cool again, and I'm hoping it won't be long before even the most die-hard 'can't cooks' jump on the bandwagon and start experimenting with quinoa and jicama (though maybe not together). When they do, I hope one or two of them will invite me over.

Bon appetit!