Pasta with Dehydrated Tomatoes and Garlic

The thermometer hovered in the high 80s with heavy humidity. It reminded me of being in Managua. I wanted to make some summery tomato basil pasta sauce, but didn't have the ingredients without going to the store and I was too lazy. Sissy pulled her head out of the freezer and saying, "I have some dehydrated tomatoes from last year." What the heck, I thought, let's give it a whirl.

1 quart bag of dehydrated Roma tomatoes. Cover with water and let sit overnight. Simmer for 20 minutes and mash. I added a small can of tomato paste to thicken it a little. (I think 1/2 a can would be better, since I ended up adding water at the end.) I added 2 glugs of olive oil, salt and pepper. While it was simmering away, I threw some dehydrated garlic slices from last year's bounty into a cup with water and popped it in the microwave for 2 minutes. I let it sit to soften then chopped it. I threw it in with a cup of basil leaves fresh from the garden. Simmer to combine the flavors. Serve over pasta of choice. We used basil garlic fettucine, Sissy had hanging around. Simple, easy, delish. You can, of course, use all fresh or canned ingredients. I normally use 1 of those big cans of whole tomatoes.

To dehyrated tomatoes:

Use Romas, slice into 4 half-inch rounds (any thinner and it turns into a fruit (veggie) roll-up and you can't get it off the rack. Just saying.)

Lay them on the racks in a single layer, not touching

Put them in the dehydrator for 24 hours. They have to be stored in the freezer.

To dehydrate garlic:

Slice in 1/8 -1/4 inch pieces

You should do the garlic by itself because the strong aroma may taint the flavor of other vegetables. It also needs to be kept in the freezer.

Set the dehydrator for 135 degrees and walk away. Do not keep checking it. Watch dehydrator never dries. Sorta like the watch pot.

Sissy uses a Nesco American Harvest dehydrator. She likes it because it has a fan on the top and a thermometer. And it's reasonably priced.

Farmer's Market Sunday

Have you been to a farmer's market or farm stand yet this year? August through Autumn is my favorite time to go. The tomatoes, corn and peaches are at their peak. It doesn't get better than this unless you grow your own. I strolled through the tents at my local Sunday market sampling garlic and onion jelly, herbed goat cheese, blackberry wine, artisan cheeses and red-fleshed plums so ripe the juice flowed down my chin. I love buying local.

Tonight for dinner I am making a pasta with fresh mozzarella, spinach, red bell peppers and onions. I need to cook the organic summer squash I bought, so I might throw them in too.

The picture is of a vegetable stand I saw in the walled Inner City of Baku a few years ago. The fruit there was fantastic. Some of the best figs I have ever eaten.

First Harvest

Good thing I am only growing for one.

THE GRATITUDE FACTOR

murmurings from the circle in the forest

An unexpected cold front has triggered my fall instincts to hunt and gather, and prepare my nest for the coming of winter. Never mind that it is only the latter part of August with several weeks of summer left. The gray squirrels are poking fallen acorns into the ground, and I am packing the freezer with this year’s bounty of corn, peaches, tomatoes and green beans.

I drove to the Farmer’s Market because that is the place to buy the great Garden State vegetables these days: Red tomatoes, creamy-golden corn, fresh garlic and onions and shiny onyx eggplants that we used to buy from the neighbor’s homemade stands, leaving payment in a cardboard cigar box. Since canning is a long and arduous process requiring quart jars, screw-top lids, great boiling kettles with wire racks, not to mention hours of sweating in the kitchen, I chose the quicker (and easier) freezer method. I boiled corn on the cob, and then sliced off the kernals into plastic bags. Peeled pounds of sweet peaches and sliced them into bags, each one holding enough for a pie (to be baked during snow storms).

There is something soul-satisfying about this work. Like kneading bread dough, a little of my life energy is added to the food. Ready-made dinners cannot match this gift. They feed the body only. Nourishment is one-dimensional. We are not involved with our food. We did not plant it, water it, weed it, protect it, pick it or prepare it. Having a relationship with your food affects its taste. I call it the Gratitude Factor.

I have a small backyard garden. When I pour a bag of silky seeds into my hand and push each one into the earth that I have tilled, amended, fertilized and mounded into beds, it seems crazy to expect food to come out of it. It feels senseless to pour water on dirt. It’s not reasonable. But it never disappoints. The seeds sprout from their underground secrets. It thrills me each time a timid yellow-green curl breaks through, sometimes balancing the seed casing on its head like a sport cap. I feel proud, like I’ve just given birth. In a few weeks, their leaves unfurl and their mission becomes clear: Make more of themselves. As they slip into production, I intervene, picking beans, peas, tomatoes, squash in their turn and use them to feed my own kind. Human beings have the same mission as a vegetable, only the green beans have not yet learned how to fight.

The vegetables pile up in my harvesting basket, a bounty from my own back yard. I thank each plant for its miracle. They are often consumed on the same day, so the flavors of green and gratitude leave me with a sense of fulfillment that just doesn’t come from opening a can.

BYOB-Bring your Own Bag

Murmuring guest from the flatland


Last week in the flatland, we got two inches of rain in thirty-six hours.
The entire garden is doing the happy dance and the green beans have taken off.

Now, when I say green beans that is a generalization. My beans are green, purple, yellow, green with rose streaks and ivory with purple streaks. And, I am growing for the first time--yard-long beans. They seem to come in 2 colors, green and red. I am, of course, growing the most unusual kind. The red yard-long beans are not a yard long, but closer to 2 feet. I was disappointed in the beginning. I kept waiting for them to grow longer, and instead ended up with thick fat lumpy beans.

What was I thinking? What am I to do with them? It looks like one bean can feed a family of four. Kidding…but not by much. It is way too hot in the house to can them.

Coming in from the garden last night I noticed some of my neighbors sitting out on their porch, so over I went with bag-o-beans in hand. I was thoughtful enough to supply empty grocery bag for them to each fill with as many as they wanted. They only took a few.

I broke down and brought another plastic grocery bag stuffed full of beans to work. I shunned the zucchini traitors and just set the bag in the break room. Everyone could fend for them selves. They all know just by looking who brought the beans.

This is a bushel of beans. When they are cooked they keep their color. How fun is this. Want some? I got plenty.

Shopping

I have been using string bags for several years now. They come in colors and hold as much as, if not more than, the traditional paper bag. The key is to always have them in the car. Some grocery stores even give you 2 cents off for every bag you bring.
Saving the planet and cash back! Win-win.

Ruminations on garden catalogs

I am sick to death of winter. I was lulled into not hating winter by the relatively balmy December and January. But then came February with its arctic blasts. So, on this March 1st, I am ready for green growing things.

I, like you, receive upteen garden catalogs starting around Christmas. This year, I decided that I was not going to even look at them becasue all of the beds need to be reworked. It's the need versus want thing. So I made a critical error in judgement and recycled all of my garden catalogs. Not a Burpee in the house.

Well, I now find that even without ordering from them, I need them as reminders of the promise of Spring. I need to revel in the purples, yellows, oranges and reds on cold nights as the wind howls around the house. I need to dream of new yellow lilacs and white forsythia. I need to discuss plant varieties with my family.

While I am a flower grower and my sister is a vegetable grower, because we get the same catalogs, we can flip back and forth between them as we discuss the merits of zone 5 versus zone 4 gardening, sun versus shade and the latest techniques for keeping critters out. She kept her catalogs and is busily ordering her seeds with a long vision into the harvest. She will have pointy green caulifower, white tomatoes, yellow carrots and purple potatoes. And, of course, she always grows Bloody Butcher. She has an amazing green thumb and the patience to start all of her plants from seed. Patience is not my virtue. I go to the local nursery or order from catalogs....and await the box of veggies that will be coming to my house from the flatland.