Gourmet Tomato Tasting

I promise this is the end of the tomato rant. I had even promised myself that tomatoes were getting beyond boring, until I spied an announcement in the local newspaper: "Tomato Tasting!"

My favorite nursery had invited an expert vegetable gardener to display his best tomatoes, and offer tastes of as many varieties as one could consume. Almost as good as a wine tasting, but not as snooty.

There were purple-black, pale yellow, brilliant orange, green, red and striped tomatoes in all shapes and sizes. Some tasted bland, some very acidic, and some were full-bodied and complex, just like a good wine. But my favorite was the pale orange 'Garden Peach' tomato that was as sweet as candy. Maybe I'll try that next summer.

But in the meantime, my Satsuma plum tree is loaded with plums, and so a new rant begins.

Gazpacho

If you are a passable cook, you can probably recall pivotal moments in your childhood kitchen when your mother (or whoever was the best cook in your family) shared a culinary secret with you, a tidbit of knowledge or culinary insight that made the light go on in your head and you just knew that someday you were going to be a good cook, too.

My mother was an uninspired cook who passed precious few culinary insights on to me. In fact, so few that the only one I can actually recall is when she announced that one of her dearest friends could make soup out of leftover lettuce, along with all the bits from the bottom of the salad bowl. Whatever ambitions I may have had about becoming a decent cook went as limp as a used lettuce leaf at that precise moment.

Fast forward several years to the time I first tasted gazpacho, that icon of summer soups. It was in a New York restaurant on a hot August day in the sixties. I had met friends for lunch, escaping for an hour from my job as a secretary at Vogue magazine. About all any of us could afford on our $88-a-week jobs was soup and some iced tea. Lucky for us that the soup-of-the-day was ice-cold gazpacho.

Gazing at the bowl that was thick and fragrant with summer vegetables, I flashed back to the leftover lettuce concoction that my mother had thought was so exotic. I plunged my soup spoon into that blended ambrosia before me, and became a believer.

The tomato bonanza in my garden this summer has called for heroic measures to use tomatoes in as many different ways as I can, so I’ve made gallons of gazpacho that I’ve served to friends and have myself consumed for lunch and dinner in a single day.

There may be as many recipes for gazpacho as there are for turkey stuffing, but this one is easy and if your garden is overflowing, you can pull most of the ingredients right out of your back yard.

 Ice cold Gazpacho served on the patio, herbs from the garden for a centerpiece.

Gazpacho

½ Sweet onion, cut in 6 pieces

2 Cloves garlic

4 Large ripe tomatoes, cored and quartered

2 Cucumbers, peeled and cut in chunks. Set aside ½ cup.

1 Red pepper, diced. Set aside ½ cup.

1 Small green pepper, diced. Set aside ½ cup.

1 Jalapeno pepper, stemmed and seeded

¼ Cup balsamic vinegar

2 Cups tomato or V-8 juice

2 Teaspoons tomato paste

2 Sprigs each parsley and basil

½ Teaspoon salt

6 lime wedges for garnish

1-2 Avocados, diced for garnish

If you can’t find a sweet Vidalia onion, use a red onion instead. Cut the onion in 6 pieces and soak in ice water for 15 minutes before blending.

Blend the garlic, tomatoes and onion. Add the cucumber, peppers, jalapeno, and vinegar. (Make sure to set aside ¾ cup each of the cucumber and red and green peppers.) Add 1 cup of the tomato juice, tomato paste, parsley, basil and salt. You may have to do this in batches. Combine the blended vegetables in a large bowl. Add remaining tomato juice and season with salt and pepper. Stir in the reserved diced peppers and cucumber. Chill at least 2 hours before serving. Serve each bowl with a wedge of lime and a spoonful of diced avocado. Serves 6.

I asked the guys at Ojai Beverage Company to recommend both a red and a white wine to go with gazpacho, and they suggested a crisp Sauvignon Blanc from Paso Robles, and a Sicilian red from Rapitala. Both worked perfectly.

Quinoa Meets a Tomato

In my current quest to find ways to use up the profusion of tomatoes taking over the garden, I tore through last week’s L.A. Times’ Food Section looking for recipes that would come to my rescue.

Food columnist Russ Parsons, an amiable sort whom I met years ago at a food event in Ojai sponsored by Saveur magazine, did just that. Russ had written a feature on using grains in summer salads and his recipe for a salad of quinoa, grilled corn and tomatoes looked just about right for making a dent in the pile of tomatoes on my kitchen counter. Besides, I’d never grilled corn before, so it was time to learn.

Quinoa Salad

1 Cup quinoa

1¾ Cups water

Salt to taste

2 Cups grilled corn cut from the cob, 2 ears

2 Cups chopped tomatoes, or cherry tomatoes cut in half

1 Serrano chile, seeded and minced

½ Cup chopped green onion

3 Tablespoons lime juice

2 Tablespoons olive oil

1 Clove garlic, minced

1¾ Teaspoons ground cumin

1½ Cups chopped cilantro

Place the quinoa in a strainer and rinse under running water until the water runs clear, 1-2 minutes. Turn the quinoa into a medium saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring constantly. The quinoa will dry, and then begin to stick a bit. Keep stirring and eventually it will begin to toast, smell nutty and turn a light golden color, about 5 minutes total. Add the water and ¼ teaspoon salt, bring to a slow simmer and cook until the quinoa is dry, about 30 minutes. You can cook the quinoa a day in advance and keep refrigerated tightly covered; bring to cool room temperature before finishing the dish and serving.

When ready to serve, transfer the quinoa to a mixing bowl and gently stir in the corn, tomatoes, chile, green onions and 1 teaspoon salt.

Combine the lime juice, oil, garlic and cumin in a blender and puree to a smooth dressing. Pour the dressing over the quinoa mixture and stir gently to combine. Add more salt or more lime juice if needed. Fold in the cilantro. Serves 6-8.

This salad is no dainty “lady’s luncheon” salad. I’ve made an entire meal out of it, and it would be hearty enough to serve as a side dish with barbecued tri-tip or pulled pork. Thanks to the serrano chile and green onions, it has a good kick to it. You might want to include cold beer in your menu.

The Revenge of the Killer Tomatoes

Okay, now what?

Those four tiny tomato seedlings I planted in the spring have joined forces to overwhelm the garden. They’ve gotten so heavy and unruly, they’ve knocked over their wire tomato cages, have cascaded over their raised bed and are overtaking everything in their path.

The plants are so intertwined I can no longer tell where one begins and the other ends, except for the size and shape of the tomatoes. I reach for a Heritage, and out comes a cluster of cherry tomatoes; their stems are so snarled up it’s impossible to pick one at a time. So I picked a basketful of everything I could reach and got ready for a tomato binge.

I started with a basic tomato dish that happens to be my favorite summer appetizer: the classic Calabrese salad. There are a million variations on this salad that originated in Calabria in southern Italy, but tomatoes, basil, olive oil and red wine vinegar are absolute musts; mozzarella cheese is optional (according to some Italian purists), but I would never leave it out.

Calabrese Salad

Large tomatoes

Mozzarella cheese

Fresh basil

Balsamic vinaigrette.

Salt and pepper to taste

I didn’t list quantities because it depends on the size of the tomatoes and how large a salad you want to make. For an entrée size dish, slice 1-2 large tomatoes into ¼-inch slices, arrange them in an overlapping circle on a large dish and season with salt and freshly ground pepper. Cut mozzarella into thin slices and tuck them in between the tomato slices. Garnish with just-picked basil leaves. Drizzle with a balsamic vinaigrette, or drizzle with olive oil followed by a splash of red wine vinegar.

This, along with a demi-baguette and a glass of Chianti, is all I could ever hope for on a hot summer evening.

There are another dozen or so tomatoes still waiting for me in the kitchen, so if anyone has a recipe that uses LOTS of tomatoes (but not ketchup; I don’t like peeling and seeding tomatoes), please let me know.