The Season Intervenes

On Monday, I already had Tuesday planned out. I would work on some writing, do a few kitchen tasks, a little sewing, finish the laundry, and go for a run before work at 4. Monday afternoon I was unexpectedly given a box of these- must-be-canned-now-before-they-perish tomatoes. Before I had carried them into the kitchen I had rearranged my mental to do list and schedule to accommodate this surprise urgent preservation project.

While I really like to plan each day, making lists and crossing things off, I also really appreciate spontaneity and the change in perspective that comes from something unplanned. My schedule is very full these days and I have just a little time to fit in all of the projects that I want to do when I'm not working for a pay check. I am constantly thinking ahead about how to organize my time. All of this planning helps me to stay focused and to enjoy the small creative processes within each task but an unplanned afternoon off or a weekend without anything I have to do hardly exists.

So I sincerely appreciate the gift of a ready to spoil box of tomatoes which forces me to let go of my schedule and respond to the urgency of the season. This time of year is so unpredictable, even as we settle into new fall routines, summer calls out with surprisingly warm days. One day it is cloudy and perfect for a cozy sweater, the next day reaches 96 degrees. This uncertainty nudges me to embrace what is here and now and realize that to do lists are not what makes life most wonderful. The satisfaction of crossing something off the list pales in comparison to enjoying the moment and making the most of it.

But of course when tasks are piling up it is hard to remember this. Again the season intervenes. All of my planning has lead to a shelf of full jars for winter but now is the time to enjoy fresh produce before the season ends. Colorful tomatoes and left over cream cheese inspired me to make this tomato tart. A celebration of the way summer and fall blend together as the seasons transition, it is the thing to warm the kitchen on a chilly evening and but is also easily portable for picnics and outdoor gatherings. Whether you're hunkering down or headed out, I hope you can enjoy the spontaneous and unexpected that comes your way.



Tomato Tart
Use whatever ripe tomatoes you have. It is fun to use different colored tomatoes but choose the best flavored ones above all. Almost all the elements of this tart can be made ahead and assembled and baked before eating. You can also make the tart ahead of time and refrigerate it for a day. In that case, let it come closer to room temperature before serving.

Tart dough or pie crust for one 9 inch tart (I used half of this recipe)
4 ounces cream cheese, softened
1 1/2 tablespoons chopped fresh herbs, such as basil, thyme, and oregano  
1 egg
Salt and pepper
3-4 ripe tomatoes 
3/4 cup caramelized onions (recipe here)

Preheat the oven to 350'. Roll out your tart dough and arrange it in the tart pan, ready to bake. Prick the bottom of the tart with a fork several times and place a piece of parchment on the tart shell. Pour pie weights or dry beans (that you don't plan on eating but you can use again for baking tart shells) onto the parchment, making sure they don't have direct contact with the dough. Bake the tart shell for 10 minutes, lift the parchment and pie weights/beans out of the tart shell and set aside. Continue baking for 10 more minutes or until the tart shell begins to turn golden brown. 

While the tart shell is baking, mix the cream cheese, herbs, egg, a pinch of salt and some freshly ground pepper until completely blended and nearly smooth. Remove the tart shell from the oven and place it on a baking sheet. Spread the blended cheese, herbs and egg on the bottom of the tart shell. Slice the tomatoes and place one layer over the cheese. Sprinkle the caramelized onions over the tomatoes. Arrange more tomato slices on top of the onions.

Raise the oven temperature to 400'. Bake the tart for about 30 minutes, until the tomatoes are cooked and the cream cheese around the edges has set. Cool for at least 15 minutes before serving.

The Feeling of Fall

The arrival of autumn, even a hint, brings on an inevitable wave of nostalgia. Darker mornings and evenings, cool air, falling leaves, just writing the date: September. It is still summer, of course. Though it has been years since I've gone back to school in the fall, there is still something about that yearly transition that is ingrained in me, deep down. As soon as August ends, a part of me perks up and looks for a change. When this doesn't happen outwardly, I let something inside shift a little. I think of past autumns, far away friends and experiences. This emotional change precedes the physical drawing in of winter.

Instead of summer's grab for new experiences, connections and sights, I long for the familiar. Summer traditions are splashy, bright, fast, urgent. The change of seasons pushes me toward comfort and warmth. I look for the brightness of changing leaves. Hope for the chill of the morning air buffered by a cozy sweater. I wish to sit down and chat with old familiar friends. It's still early for firing up the oven and eating squash but my mind and heart are certainly turning toward the interior warmth of the fall.

One evening last week I walked home under darkening cloudy skies. It was the perfect time to indulge in the feeling of fall, while still appreciating that summer has not ended. As the moody clouds passed by my window, I stayed cozy inside with simmering pots on the stove. It was time to turn an abundance of fresh tomatoes into jam. The tomatoes cooked with onions, cumin, coriander, sugar and vinegar thickened into jam and I started to think of winter days with bread and cheese. I've made tomato jam annually for the past few years and I've never been disappointed. The sugar, vinegar and spices turn the tomatoes from ordinary to mouth watering, sweet and slightly tart at the same time. It is ideal in a grilled cheese sandwich, or spread on crackers with goat cheese.

It's nice to have something a little fancy in the pantry or to give as a gift and it is so easy to make. If you don't can anything else this year, you should at least try this recipe. The recipe is from Food52.com and was written by Jennifer Perillo of In Jennie's Kitchen. I increased the quantity so I would have a few extra jars, added a little less sugar, and cooked it to a spreadable but not quite jammy consistency. You really can't go wrong with this recipe. The beginning of Autumn is a reminder that it won't be long before fresh local tomatoes are only a dream so tuck away a few jars of tomato jam before it's too late.

Sweet and Savory Tomato Jam

Tomato Day

The market was full of color and corn and peppers and even apples. The aisles between the tables and trucks were crowded and not wanting to move with the slow current of people, I slipped in and around the other shoppers looking to my left and right to take in each table laden with produce. Watermelons bigger than jack o'lanterns, gleaming raspberries, and shiny apples. I had everything I needed, just wanted to grab a box of tomatoes on my way out. I was surprised that so many farmer's were selling boxes, baskets and bags of tomatoes for so little. Twenty-five pounds for twelve dollars seemed like a crazy bargain, but reminded me that canning them definitely made financial sense.

I stopped at a table where all of the signs for produce were labeled chemical free and asked for a box of canning tomatoes. The woman selling vegetables nodded to the rows of boxes behind her and as I handed her my cash she told me to go back and pick the one I wanted. I pointed to the first box I saw and she shook it to show me that even the tomatoes underneath were ripe and in good condition. I didn't remark on the fact that her vigorous shaking had probably bruised them, but covered the box with its lid and carried them away.

I like to space out my tomato canning, one box at a time. Canning whole tomatoes requires a significant amount of time in the boiling water bath. It might be more efficient to do multiple batches while the water is hot, but I find I can fit it in better if I only have one batch to do. I anticipated tedium as I rinsed the muddy tomatoes, washed jars and started boiling water. My seasons of farm work have acclimated me to repetitive tasks. When I am out in the fields I have only the landscape around me, the sounds of birds and airplanes and sometimes co-workers to watch, listen, and talk to. It could be called mindless work but I believe it takes a unique mentality to avoid boredom and fatigue and keep your mind occupied constructively. Kitchen tasks are much the same, though I often listen to the radio or a podcast while I work inside.

Instead of getting bored, I settled into the rhythm of coring the tomatoes, dropping them in a pot of boiling water, grasping them with tongs, dropping them into a bowl of cold water, slipping off their skins and squeezing out the seeds. As long as I covered the skinned tomato with both hands and squeezed gently it was satisfying to feel the seedy gel squirt out of the middle and into the bowl. When I was less controlled, the seeds spewed wildly in a stream of red, hitting the wall, the counter and decorating my apron.



I removed eight quart sized jars from the enormous silver pot that was boiling on the stove, lining them up on the counter. Lemon juice and salt went in first and then I packed in the tomatoes, crimson, fleshy and crumpled through the clear glass. After I filled them with hot water, removed air bubbles and carefully screwed on their lids, I lifted them gently back into the pot. With care and precision normally reserved for delicate china and newborn babies I placed each one in its spot. Last year I broke two jars canning tomatoes and did not want to repeat the annoying and messy shock that happens when a jar cracks open in the hot water.

While the jars resumed their boil I wiped off the counter, making sure I found every wayward tomato seed. I put the rest of the skinned and seeded tomatoes in the blender. The puree went in the oven to slowly bake into a thick tomato paste.

The kitchen is getting steamy after 40 minutes of water bath boiling. I'm lucky that the weather feels much more like early fall than summer. The jars, bright with tomatoes, cool on the counter holding the promise of summer for months to come.