Garlic-Scented Tomato Salad

Adapted from Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking by Marcella Hazan

4 to 6 Servings





I know I've been on a tomato kick lately, but I'm running out of time in terms of the season. Even though fall is rapidly approaching, there are still gorgeous tomatoes to be had, and it is imperative that you have this wonderful recipe in your quiver. It might be my very favorite recipe. Of all time. Every time I eat it, I can't get over how good it is.

You can use any very ripe tomatoes, even cherry tomatoes cut in half, for this delicious salad.

Definitely try this if good vine-ripened tomatoes are still available in your garden





or market,

and keep it in mind for next year when tomato season is once again upon us.

Garlic-Scented Tomato Salad

4 to 5 garlic cloves
Maldon Salt or kosher salt
Excellent quality red wine vinegar - I love O Zinfandel Vinegar
2 pounds fresh, ripe, ripe, ripe (get the point?) tomatoes
Optional - a chiffonade of basil made with about 12 fresh basil leaves (basil leaves, washed, dried, and cut into shreds with a sharp knife)
Extra-virgin olive oil

This list of ingredients is just a starting point. You can use as many or as few tomatoes as you like, adjusting the other ingredients accordingly.

After you smash the garlic cloves with the flat blade of a chef's knife, the skin will slip off easily.





Put the cloves of garlic in a small bowl with 2 tablespoons vinegar and about 1-1/2 teaspoons Maldon Salt crushed between your fingers or kosher salt. I know this will seem like too much salt, but it isn't. (If it turns out to be too much for you, change it next time, but the first time you should try it this way.) Stir (your finger works well for this), and let steep at least 20 minutes.





Slice the tomatoes and spread the slices out on a platter, or cut tomatoes in chunks and put them in a bowl.




Just before serving, pour the garlic-steeped vinegar through a small wire strainer over the tomatoes. Pour a little olive oil over the tomatoes, optionally sprinkle with the pieces of basil, and serve immediately.

Sliced tomatoes on a platter dressed with the salad makes a beautiful presentation, especially on a buffet table, but sliced tomatoes are not as easy to eat as chunks of tomatoes and don't work as well in every situation. For instance, I often dress a salad separately with a mustard vinaigrette and then top it with chunks of tomatoes dressed this way.




To see just the recipe, click here.

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"Doing the Tomatoes"

Adapted from Cream Puffs in Venice

Last winter - on New Year's eve morning to be exact - when the field was covered with snow, and summer seemed oh-so-far away, I sat in a cozy warm kitchen with Sylvano - a kitten then - curled up on the table, loaded music onto iTunes, and daydreamed about "doing the tomatoes."

Summer is over now; Monday was the Autumn Equinox, and before you know it, it will be New Year's Eve 2008. But right now, even though there is a little touch of fall in the air, the weather is still warm, and this past Sunday I did what I dreamed about on a cold snowy day - "the tomatoes."

This isn't exactly a recipe. It's more of a procedure. You need wonderful, glorious, summer, ripened-on-the-vine, hard-to-resist-eating-out-of-hand-but-you-must-restrain-yourself tomatoes. And lovely extra-virgin olive oil. And - for me - Maldon sea salt, always Maldon. That's it.

Upstate, the tomatoes were ripening at a rapid pace, so Chris gathered them for me and left them snuggled together in paper bags on the back porch where I found them when I arrived on Saturday. Early Sunday morning I washed the tomatoes well, cut them into quarters, removing each core, and put them in three 5-1/2- to 8-quart pans (wide pans, not tall narrow stockpots) on the stove. I added a few glugs of olive oil to each pan and crunched in some Maldon salt to taste. I brought the tomatoes nearly to a boil then lowered the heat to a simmer.

After about 30 minutes, when the tomatoes were done to my liking, just slightly thickened, I turned off the heat, let them cool a little, and put them through the finest blade of my old Mouli food mill. (It seems the brand Mouli is no longer available - at least I didn't see them available anywhere online).

I was going to try the most coarse blade too, but to be honest, for some reason, I couldn't find it anywhere. As I usually use the fine blade for my tomatoes, it wasn't a problem, but I wanted to try the coarse blade for comparison.

I let the milled tomatoes cool, then put them up for freezing.

I still have more to do!



But next year - for sure - I am going to do old-fashioned "canning," and put them up in jars just like Cream Puffs in Venice. Broadway Panhandler had some really nice small ones from Italy this year, so that's where I'll head to find them. I want jewel-like jars of glorious red tomatoes on my shelf in the fall of 2009 ready to get me through the winter. I'll send you a picture.

Luisa's Tomato Bread Soup

Adapted from The Wednesday Chef

Serves 3 to 4

I'm sorry I didn't post this recipe in August. I don't have an excuse - at least not an excuse that's worth it. I've just been so busy at work. Actually, I've been extraordinarily busy since April. I only had one day off all summer and didn't get to the beach once. I'm hoping to take a week off in October, which is, after all, my favorite month of the year. But this recipe is, well, so good, you should be mad I didn't get it here sooner.

Simple it may be, but its deliciousness depends on wonderful ingredients. The best tomatoes of the year. Tomatoes bursting with flavor. Tomatoes so good you want to eat them out of hand (but hang on; be patient; use them for this). Your favorite extra-virgin olive oil. And Maldon - always Maldon - sea salt. (Yes, I know, fleur de sel is lovely, but Maldon eclipses all other salt for me.)

The credit for this dish goes to Luisa, The Wednesday Chef. I don't think she will mind my passing it on to you. This is a recipe that is so stunningly simple, you cannot believe how wonderful it is. Don't just take my word for it. See what Luisa has to say about it. If it really serves three to four, instead of just two, I'll be surprised. If you start tasting it in the pan, you won't even have enough to plate for more than two. It's so good, it's hard to stop eating once you start. Luisa actually advises to

buy twice the amount of tomatoes required. Because when you're standing in front of your stove looking down at an empty soup pot, wondering what could have possessed you to be so generous as to share your meal with the people at your table, you'll feel some relief at the prospect of being able to whip up another batch, right then and there.

For some reason, the sourdough bread adds a lot to this recipe, which is odd because in Tuscany, where this recipe hails from, the bread would be completely different, with no salt added. Trust me on this; use the sourdough. And note, you use ricotta salata, not fresh ricotta, for this dish. If you want to use tomatoes and fresh ricotta, check this recipe out. It's also from Luisa, and just fabulous. When it comes to pasta, she might just be the man - so the speak.

Anyway, I thought fall was arriving early last week, when the first crisp air greeted me as I walked out the door. But the weekend was sunny and hot (and humid), so you may still be able to get your hands on August-like tomatoes. If you can, make this immediately, then tuck this recipe away to pull out next year when tomatoes and basil are prolific in the garden again. It will be something to dream about in March when winter seems so long and summer so far away.

3 pounds perfectly ripe, beautiful summer in-season, ripened-on-the-vine tomatoes, plum or round - do not use cherry or grape tomatoes
3 tablespoons of your favorite extra-virgin olive oil
1 small onion, chopped fine
3 cloves garlic, smashed with the back of your chef knife
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 cups sourdough bread, without crusts, cut into small cubes
1/2 cup grated ricotta salata
1 tablespoon minced fresh basil leaves

Core and quarter the tomatoes then pulse in a food processor to chop coarsely. Do not puree. If you don't have a food processor or are not inclined to get it out or get it dirty, you can coarsely chop the tomatoes by hand, but a food processor does work well here.

Heat the oil in a 4-quart saucepan or 5-quart saucier. Saute the onion and garlic until soft, but not browned. Add the tomatoes and their juices. Season with salt, bring to a slow simmer, and cook for 45 minutes, covered, stirring occasionally.

At the end of the 45 minutes, stir the bread cubes into the soup, and simmer for an additional 10 to 15 minutes. Check the seasoning. Add a little pepper just before serving.

Serve hot or at room temperature, with grated ricotta salata and minced basil strewn on each serving.

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