I keep looking at the pile of tomatoes on my counter wondering how many more I can eat this week.
It doesn’t seem like just a month ago that I wrote this:
Dear God, the tomatoes are getting ripe!
Pacing around… looking out the window at the garden.
Three times today.
I’m sure my neighbors think I am watching them.
Taking a stroll out to the raised beds.
Daily ANTICIPATION when I roll down the hill to my driveway.
Is it? Is that red I see?
Gott-almighty, what do I have to do to have a ripe tomato????
I have friends sending me pictures of their first damn tomato. Rub it in.
I’m dreaming of that first sloppy sandwich followed by a bacon, spinach, and tomato sandwich. Follow that with sliced tomatoes layered with fresh mozzarella and basil.
My god, the options, the complexities, the simplicity!
I happen to be one of those people hugging a food religion right now. You know that one with grains and sugar avoidance, etc. You know the one.
I’m having a tomato sandwich on white bread with Duke’s, salt, and pepper next week.
What’s that? Angels tuning their harps????
What a difference 40 days can make. I have had tomatoes in every form from a sloppy drippy sandwich to sauces and stir-fries to endless salads. I have broiled, sautéed, sliced, chopped, diced, and eaten my way through so many tomatoes I am sick of them.
Right on time too because I looked at my vines this morning, and I think the bounty is waning.
What a miracle, the circle of life!
Somewhere in my primordial ooze is the genetic trait to crave what is in season and move on. I’m still peach crazy, could eat a bit more watermelon, and have found basil creeping into some surprising concoctions.
But tomatoes? I have had enough.
Pretty soon I will start thinking about soup and sweet potatoes and butternut squash. I looked at my cold fruit smoothie this morning and had a brief flash of hot oatmeal in my head. My lizard brain is nudging my taste buds to migrate to the next season.
I am a victim, I tell you!! I’m being manipulated by some intergalactic gravitational pull that has a faint whiff of stardust.
The hell of it all is that by next July I will be pacing around sobbing and tearing my hair for fresh ripe tomatoes. At least something in my life is completely and perfectly predictable.
- Oven 400 degrees
- metal or glass roasting pan
- Ripe Tomatoes, chopped to even size
- Olive Oil (enough to coat the pan and some to drizzle on top)
- Salt (sprinkle over the top to taste)
- Wash and core tomatoes. You can combine all sizes of tomatoes, just be sure to cut your largest down to match the size of your smallest tomatoes. Also match the size of your pan to the amount of tomatoes so that you have a single layer of chopped tomatoes.
- Add 1 Tbsp Olive Oil to roasting pan. Add tomatoes and sprinkle with kosher salt. Toss together and add a drizzle of olive oil over the top.
- Place pan in hot oven and roast for 35 minutes. Stir tomatoes ( they will be very juicy) then rotate pan in oven and roast for another 30 minutes. The juices should be reduced and the tomatoes should be turning dark and have blackened edges.
- Cool in pan and if you don't like a chunky sauce you might want to puree in a food processor.
Some great options to use your roasted tomatoes:
-combine smashed roasted garlic stirred into the tomatoes as a topping for bruschetta or a fresh pasta sauce.
-perfect on a pizza
-freeze for adding to winter soups
-chill and add chopped fresh onion, jalapeños and a splash of lemon juice for a quick salsa.