Good morning! Pour yourself a cup of coffee, sit down for a second, and take a breather.
I was faced this morning with a dining room table full of produce, courtesy of a family friend with an overactive garden. There's zucchini, tomatoes and cucumbers, but mostly tomatoes, which seem to reproduce like rabbits on her land.
I have lots of fates planned for the tomatoes. Some are still green, which means green tomato fritters (stay tuned next week). Some have just become perfectly ripe, which means that they will be sliced into great, big, gleaming, juicy hunks, perfect for tomato sandwiches (on white bread with mayonnaise and bacon, please).
And frankly, others sat under the zukes and cukes in the bottom of the bag and now look kinda...weathered.
It's those dead-ripe, battered-up tomatoes, the kind you should have eaten yesterday had they been there, that make for great homemade tomato sauce.
A lot of folks I know insist that only Roma tomatoes (the ones that are small and lemon-shaped) make tasty sauce. I beg to differ. I usually whip up my own just using whatever tomatoes are left over. The only secret is that the tomato has to be absolutely, eat-it-now-or-it's-gone ripe.
Once you have your hands on some of those tomatoes, you have to peel them. Now, if you have a food mill, you can make the sauce with whole tomatoes (minus the seeds) and then send it through the mill, which will catch the skins. I don't own a food mill, and I know about two people that do. So I peel the tomatoes first, which is simple and, in a "playing with your food" kind of way, fun. Directions are at the beginning of the recipe.
What spices and herbs go into the pot is a matter of personal taste. I want fresh tomato sauce to taste like fresh tomatoes, so I use only garlic and fresh basil from the bush outside my front door (no herb garden? Check the produce department at the grocery store). In your own kitchen, you can doctor up the basic recipe with more garlic, onion, oregano, whatever you like. After the sauce simmers for a while, feel free to add meatballs or Italian sausage and/or peppers and onions or cut-up grilled chicken.
Myself, I like it best straight-up, no Parmesan cheese or anything, on a plateful of pasta (I like ziti or penne, but any type will do), with a side salad and hot bread. Don't forget the red-and-white-checkered tablecloth, candles, and your favorite Rat Pack member singing in the background.
BASIC FRESH TOMATO SAUCE (makes about 2 cups, or 1 serving over pasta; may be doubled, quadrupled, sextupled, and so on)
4 large "dead ripe" red tomatoes
3 tablespoons olive oil
4 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed
2 teaspoons finely-shredded fresh basil (accept no substitutes)
Salt and pepper to taste
Bring a large pot of water to a boil and fill a medium bowl with ice cubes and water.
One at a time, place a tomato in the boiling water and let cook for 1 minute, then remove the tomato and sink it in the ice water for a few seconds. Remove it from the ice water and set aside. Repeat with the remaining tomatoes.
Peel and core the tomatoes, then slice them in half and remove the seeds. Place them in a medium bowl and crush them with your hands or a potato masher -- the sauce can be as chunky or smooth as you like.
Put the olive oil and garlic in a medium saucepan over medium heat until the garlic starts sizzling. Add the tomatoes to the pot with basil, salt, and pepper, and stir.
Reduce the heat to medium-low and simmer uncovered, stirring frequently, for 20-30 minutes, or until as thick as you like.
Either serve immediately over a plate of your favorite pasta (I like ziti or penne) or pour into a small bowl and refrigerate for up to 2 days. Reheat before using.
Chris Summers lives and cooks in Barboursville. He would like to remind you to not wear a white shirt while cooking tomatoes. You can contact him at cordhaven@hotmail.com.