November 9, 2003
Farewell tomatoes
A foodie friend of mine mentioned that he bought a hot-house tomato this weekend. I looked at him with a mixture of pity and contempt. The poor fool is desperately trying to extend the season. I suppose he is one of those guys who hands around the ballpark all winter trying to soak up the atmosphere.
One of the farmers at the market yesterday had a crate of tomatoes, which were OK looking if you overlooked the fact that they were not vine-ripened and had more of the smell of foliage than fruit. I suppose if you were looking for tomatoes to embalm or photograph, then they would be OK.
I refuse to eat an out of season tomato. OK, not true. I refuse to buy an out of season tomato. If someone serves me one, fine, I'll eat it, but I do not see the point in paying outrageous prices for the flavorless ball of fiber that pretends to be a tomato. Not when I have been eating perfect ones for 50 cents a pound.
So it is now the canned tomato season in California, which is fine. You ought to see the cans shimmering on the vine. Lovely sight!
It makes August all the better (I decided this year that I will resist the temptation to buy early crop tomatoes, as they are always a disappointment). So now I turn my gaze to fennel, truffles, mushrooms, roots, winter pears, apples, pumpkin, and I start to think about game.
This year I have decided to extend my pumpkin repertoire. I have always done pumpkin ravioli and pumpkin pie, but this year I want to explore the range of the pumpkin. Pumpkin panna cotta with acorn brittle crust and nutmeg whipped cream. Pumpkin fritters. Foie gras with pumpkin confit (if I can come up with some flimsy excuse to spend that much for foie gras, then to have the guts to experiment with it instead of just doing a known dish). Perhaps I will try some form of autumnal ratatouille.
I always like autumn, even though my favorite season is late summer. Autumn is a good time for reflection, for observation, for hiking and probably for baking, if that were my thing (Melanie is the family baker).
I will try to give recipes of my experiments, and will certainly post reports of the successes and failures.
Posted by erik at November 9, 2003 11:01 PM | TrackBackPumpkin butter. Pumpkin soup. Pumpkins stuffed with a mixture of rice, sausage, canned tomatoes, and succotash, baked in the oven with the lid on the pumpkin like a hat. Pumpkin souffle, with eggnog custard sauce. Pumkin creme brulee.
Can you tell that I love pumpkin and all winter squash? I actually love all squash, come to think of it.
Did you know that you can dry pumpkin flesh? The Cherokee did that to provide winter food, and then rehydrated the pumpkin by cooking chunks of it in the stew pot with whatever meat they had.