The Not-So-Secret, Secret Family Sauce

Tomatoes......they are everywhere this time of year.  This year, for whatever reason, it seems to be taking them an inordinately long amount of time to ripen on the vine....but then perhaps they are all about building tension and suspense.  They are walking a fine line between ripening and being killed each night by frost and I refuse to play their game and cover them....at least for now while the temperatures still linger in the forties at night.  But we rely too heavily on them to not get the full harvest from these beauties.  Two years ago, I planted 10 Amish Paste tomato plants, then last year I planted 13, now this year I have planted 18 and they are killing me with this ripening suspense.  The usual routine is to go out with a bushel basket every 3 days and pick somewhere between 30 and 40 pounds of them at a time to process into the most wonderful marinara imaginable.  This year....my twice weekly trips to harvest have only been yielding about 20 pounds, but they are still given center stage for the day as they are processed and slowly cooked down and canned.

The recipe, although spectacular, is not one I developed.  I fell in love with it while reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle  by Barbara Kingsolver.  I had often wondered how to prepare and can tomatoes - they are one of those somewhat frightening vegetables, in my book, that can potentially lead to botulism and sending the entire family to the hospital if not canned properly, but when given a straight forward recipe and easy to follow guidelines, it has quickly become a staple at our house. 

Initially, I bought all the spices it required and then realized very quickly that most of them I can grow myself.  With a little planning and drying, now everything that goes into this sauce is grown on my farm except for the black pepper, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg and lemon peel. 

Tomatoes that are grown and ripen on the vine are spectacular.  I am not a huge fan of eating raw tomatoes....it is a texture thing, but heirloom tomatoes, home grown and still warm from the sun....they do taste good.  When you go to the grocery store for tomatoes, you can certainly find beautiful, round red things that look similar, but have zero of the actual taste of a tomato.  It is unfortunate, because they are so pretty.  They are actually working on the science needed to infuse store tomatoes with the "tomato taste".  That seems so wrong on so many levels when nature does that all by itself if given a little time.  A lot of what is missing from the store tomatoes is what they develop in the last weeks of ripening.  Store tomatoes are picked early and then artificially ripened later so they will last while being shipped all over the world....I know, sad but very true.

The tomatoes that I adore the most are the really big, really ripe ones.  But when you grow them yourself, they are not always "pretty" tomatoes.  The ones that I adore tend to look a little like a prize fighter - big, beefy and with scars.  I will actually pick the seeds from these the most because it is clear to me that they know how to grow and they know how to survive in a rather hostile garden world.  Most people would probably throw out the tomatoes that I use the most.  With a sharp knife, even the most pathetic tomato can offer some amount of flesh to the pot and if they are entirely too far past their prime, there is a wonderful disposal system in place a my house that answers readily to the name, "Pig, Pig"  She comes running for any and all left over garden scraps, but I have to admit that rotten tomatoes appear to be a particular favorite of hers. 

In a typical batch, 30 pounds of tomatoes can typically yield about 10 quarts of puree.  That combined with 4 onions, 1 cup of dried basil, 1/2 cup of honey,  and various amounts of oregano, thyme, salt, lemon peel, parsley, cinnamon, pepper, nutmeg, and garlic powder all help to yield a concoction that fills the entire house with a wonderful smell and has one wondering what sort of pasta might be in the cupboard that can be cooked up before the sauce ever makes it into the jar.  

I know that for some, this would seem like a terribly monotonous thing to do - being a slave to the tomato plants for weeks on end, but honestly, the process is what makes it such a wonderful tradition.  Drying herbs that will be used takes time, patience and planning, onions are planted early to ensure that there will be enough big ones to add to the pot, tomato plants are planted, staked, weeded, and rescued from Tomato Horn Worms that look very much like the caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland.  All these things come together in the kitchen on September and October days to create a sauce that will feed my family at least once a week.  There really is no better reminder of the warm late summer days than homemade marinara when you are deep in the grip of winter.