Tomatoes for dinner

Tomatoes are so plentiful here that our state capitol is known as Sack-o-tomatoes, or as I prefer to francophonically call it Sacre-Tomate, with an accent aigu over the first e that I don’t know how to do in this font. So plentiful that two different people have given me tomatoes from their garden, as they had a super-abundance, rather than the usual, only-slightly-welcome zucchini harvest. I’m not going to say they’re better than, say, Long Island or Maryland tomatoes, but I will say they’re the best I’ve ever had. Certainly--sorry Jim, but I don’t remember once having fresh tomatoes that were nearly so good in Switzerland. Maybe I just don’t remember. As for my own garden, well, I planted late and the dirt’s not very good, but anyway I’m fortunate that people have given me some, and you can get nice fresh juicy fat boys at the farmer’s market.

Last night I had about two pounds of Roma tomatoes and I put them in boiling water for just a minute or so, really just about sixty seconds, to loosen the skin. Then I cut them in half, slipped off the skins and scooped out the seeds and wet stuff, and chopped them up and put them in a pot with three or four cloves of pressed garlic, about half a stick of butter (but if that much dairy fat freaks you out you could use olive oil), salt and pepper and cooked it way down, then served it over gemelle, the twisted pasta that sort of looks like Sugar Smacks, with some parmesan and a little more black pepper. The only work is parboiling and seeding the tomatoes, and the fact that it’s like 90 degrees here and you have to leave it on the stove for an hour or so for it to cook down and that’s a hot kitchen. I don’t know, I made mojitos, as we do have plenty of mint in the garden, and anyway if Jim Preston were here he’d say it’s good to sweat.