That's a picture of our second big picking off the six plants in our city garden (mid-August). I processed those into sauce, using my mom's old Victorio strainer. And was it ever a tedious endeavor. Remind me to rein us in next year and stick to two beefsteak heirlooms, for rushed lunches.
Impatient goes hand in hand with stubborn, and I claim expertise in both. Here's a picture of me, the last time I used the Victorio.
It will be another 28 years before I'll think the Victorio is a good idea again, and by then, I'll have unloaded it at a garage sale. Or heaved it down a mine shaft, Scranton style.
Overreacting to the amount of work that little pile of tomatoes was, you say? Indeed. This isn't a food blog, after all. Those beefsteaks are mostly water, and after the wall-splattering event of churning them through that contraption, and the sticky floor, thrice mopped, you still have to cook them down into a disappointingly small pot of sauce. Such a little dribble! You could never survive the winter on it.
The first batch of tomatoes I "processed" was whole fruits thrown in freezer bags, skins and cores and dirty bits intact. The second batch was as detailed, above. The third batch was a giant five-dollar-farmers-market sack of Romas, roasted in a pan with garlic, then buzzed up with fistfuls of herbs and the immersion blender. For all you lazy homesteaders out there, I'll tell you: that's the way to go. If your significant other, who happens to be a former chef, scowls at the idea of skins-left-on, just tell him you have way more important things to do. Like drink wine on the back porch. Drink whiskey on the back porch. Draw pictures, dance dances, drink cider.
I refuse to undertake any task at all that requires more than three hours to complete, starting RIGHT NOW.
But it only takes ten minutes to pick clean the cherry and paste tomatoes in our country garden. Then I wash them, cut them in half, and spread them on a sheet pan to dry in the baker's big ovens, after a night's bake. They turn into rubies that are better than jewels, because you get to eat them. This is the kind of kitchen labor I can get behind.
9 comments:
I always motivated by you, your thoughts and way of thinking, again, thanks for this nice post.
- Norman
Thank you, Norman. Makes me feel good to hear that.
Fondly, we remember you from the first time you used the Victoria.
What a lovely memory!
Mary Ann & Jeff
That baby picture is fantastic!
Oh my goodness, that photo of you on the counter is priceless. And what beautiful tomatoes! I haven't experimented with any way of storing our excess tomatoes other than dehydrating them and putting them into mason jars. Do you freeze yours after dehydrating? We have just been putting them into our fridge to hopefully resist mold. I'm brand-new at this!
Thanks, all.
Immortal Mountain, I've been doing the same as you - putting them in the fridge. They've kept in the pantry fine without molding, but we have those terrible flour moths, which apparently love dried tomatoes, and they gobble them all up if they're in the pantry (even in a glass jar!).
Wow, what an awesome post! That pic of you is absolutely perfect. Not to be stalker-ish or anything, but I am planning a trip to Indiana to visit my friend who goes to Indiana State in Bloomington. That's semi-near you. I wonder if meeting half-way would be a possibility. Is that a weird thing to suggest? I have never suggested something like that before...Here's me stepping out on a garry oak limb.
Thanks, GardenGirl. Indiana is actually pretty far from here, for only being a couple states away (they're wide ones!), which is a bummer, because I'd love to meet you. Let me know when you're visiting, 'cause who knows - we have some family in the Midwest that we visit now and again, and our paths just might come close! It would be fun to talk gardens.
Great post! Love the baby pic - that is awesome! I've also opted to oven dry my "extra" tomatoes this year. Sooo easy. I freeze mine - they keep great for at least six months.
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