Showing posts with label tomato soup. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tomato soup. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Tomatoes Galore


"And now for your delectation, the delicious Tomatoes Galore will tickle your fancy with her juicy rendition of 'On Top of Old Smoky'…"

Forgive me, dear readers, but I'm in head-down tomato processing mode. I've got two baking trays of chopped tomatoes in the oven that need to come out in 30 minutes, so this is going to be quick. They're the tail end of 60 pounds of the red-ribbed beauties known as Astiana tomatoes from Ayers Creek Farm, the first round of the 150 pounds I plan to process (I know, crazy, right?) this year and squirrel away in the freezer for the winter.

Astiana tomatoes at Ayers Creek Farm.

Those tomatoes, with just the right balance of tart-to-sweet, the product of more than a decade of selecting for flavor, plant health and field-hardiness on the part of Carol and Anthony Boutard, began with a meal that the couple had in the Piedmont region of Italy. There they tasted a fresh tomato that Carol said they had to bring back to their organic farm in Gaston—Anthony would remind me that Italy's Piedmont is on roughly the same latitude as Oregon, meaning that the seeds could be adapted to our climate—and the story goes that she ran out to the dumpster behind the restaurant, diving in to gather enough seeds to bring back.

Roasted tomato soup (recipe below).

My method of roasting is super simple: preheat the oven to 400°, chop the tomatoes into quarters, load onto two sheet trays skin-side down and roast for an hour. Cool enough to pull most of the skins off (easiest by hand if you like chunky sauce; a food mill smooshes them too much for our uses), load into quart freezer bags and you're done.

Speaking of done, it's time to pull those tomatoes out of the oven. Here's a recipe for a fabulous tomato soup I made last year, one that I think rivals the best you're likely to have.

Creamy Roasted Tomato Soup

8 Tbsp. (1 stick) butter
2 med. onions, chopped fine
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 c. flour
2 qts. (8 c.) roasted tomatoes or 3 28-oz. cans crushed tomatoes with their juices
2 c. chicken broth
1 Tbsp. kosher salt plus more to taste
1 tsp. celery salt
1/2 tsp. black pepper

In a Dutch oven or large soup pot, melt butter over medium heat. Add onion and sauté until tender and translucent. Add garlic and continue to sauté 2 minutes. Add flour and stir, making sure it doesn’t stick to the bottom of the pan, for 3 minutes. Add broth, tomatoes, salt, celery salt and pepper. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to simmer for 30 minutes, stirring frequently to make sure nothing sticks to the bottom of the pan. Remove soup from heat and, using an immersion blender,  purée the soup thoroughly until smooth*. Add more salt to taste, if needed. Serve.

* I don't mind a little texture from any bits that don't get totally blended in, but if you want a completely silky smooth finished product, you can press it through a fine mesh sieve, which will catch any remaining seeds or other bits.

Monday, February 27, 2017

Best Tomato Soup (Apologies to Campbell's)


Dinner at my family's table growing up was a product of the then-new and novel notion of convenience for housewives. Why spend hours preserving fruits and vegetables when you can simply open a can and have dinner on the table in less than half an hour? Cookbooks, women's magazines and television commercials touted "open a box" instant gratification for puddings, cakes, hamburger helpers and soup mixes with brand names that became part of the family—think Duncan Hines, Campbell's, Lipton and, yes, Betty Crocker.

Going in the oven to roast.

With three kids and a husband to feed every night, and especially when she started working full time, my mother needed all the help she could get. I've joked that during my childhood I thought that Campbell's cream of mushroom soup was the glue that held the universe together. Even when I was on my own, a good tuna casserole needed that special touch that only one product—I've since found a superior recipe—could achieve. My future husband wooed me with lunches he made himself with cream of tomato soup (Campbell's to the rescue again!) and grilled cheese sandwiches.

So, as with that tuna casserole, recreating the flavors I remember and the satisfaction they provided has become a bit of an obsession. A cream of tomato soup like the one from the can with its smooth, silky, tomatoey flavor—we always made it with water rather than milk—that filled your mouth and warmed your belly is one that has been at the top of my "figure this out" list.

After roasting, ready for anything.

Lots of recipes I researched called for various herbs and spices to be added; some add vinegar or honey, probably to balance out the acidity of the tomatoes. But I was looking for a recipe that was simple to make and that would have been easy enough for my mom to whip up for her family's dinner after a long day at the office, a glass of wine in one hand (would that she would have allowed herself that) and a wooden spoon in the other.

With a good supply of frozen, roasted astiana tomatoes in the freezer, I was all set with the main ingredient, and their perfect balance of sweetness to acidity made the notion of adding anything else just so much unnecessary froo-froo. Having made this soup a few times now, both with and without grilled cheese sandwiches, it's always brought back those days of yore, but with the satisfaction of knowing I no longer need help from the folks at Campbell's.

Creamy Roasted Tomato Soup

8 Tbsp. (1 stick) butter
2 med. onions, chopped fine
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 c. flour
2 qts. (8 c.) roasted tomatoes or 3 28-oz. cans crushed tomatoes with their juices
2 c. chicken broth
1 Tbsp. kosher salt plus more to taste
1 tsp. celery salt
1/2 tsp. black pepper

In a Dutch oven or large soup pot, melt butter over medium heat. Add onion and sauté until tender and translucent. Add garlic and continue to sauté 2 minutes. Add flour and stir, making sure it doesn’t stick to the bottom of the pan, for 3 minutes. Add broth, tomatoes, salt, celery salt and pepper. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to simmer for 30 minutes, stirring frequently to make sure nothing sticks to the bottom of the pan. Remove soup from heat and, using an immersion blender,  purée the soup thoroughly until smooth*. Add more salt to taste, if needed. Serve.

* I don't mind a little texture from any bits that don't get totally blended in, but if you want a completely silky smooth finished product, you can press it through a sieve, which will catch any remaining seeds or other bits.

Monday, September 10, 2007

Farm Bulletin: Bits and Bites

Our correspondent from out near Gaston, Anthony Boutard, sends an update on the end-of-summer doings at Ayers Creek. Look for his and Carol's terrific produce at the Hillsdale Farmers Market every Sunday from 10 am to 2 pm.

• The termite princes and princesses were out for their nuptial flight last week, a sign that autumn is creeping nearer. Our resident bat was giddily pursuing the rich, nutritious bounty, much like we do when the shad or alewife run. Once the union is consummated, the gravid queens drop to the ground, shed their wings and seek a location to establish their colonies, generally some decaying log. On the ground, they have to avoid a gauntlet of mice and shrews. These flights occur even in the city, and seem to coincide with the last full moon of the summer.

• Fecund grapes are always tastier than the celibate kinds. Squire Phunt of Branchport, our grape expert who provides us good information by way of his lover and soon-to-be wife, offers the following explanation. The maturation of the seed during berry ripening initiates the development of certain aromatics in the berry. In a celibate grape, the seed never matures and thus never gets to initiate the development of those lovely aromatics, and a chunk of complexity is lost. Makes sense to us. Thanks, Phunt.

• We don't use any tunnels or greenhouses, as everything is field grown. Makes us tardy relative to other farms, but we get there eventually. Finally, we get to enjoy our first glass of Moroccan Tomato Soup. We highly recommend this soup, which is closer to a fragrant salad:

Ayers Creek Moroccan Tomato Soup

Take 3 to 5 pounds of tomatoes and run through a food mill. We use a mix of paste and slicers. Shoot for about six to eight cups of milled tomato. The original recipe suggested peeling and seeding them first, but this is only necessary if you use a food processor. Put a quarter cup or so of olive oil in a pan and heat very gently. Add three or four cloves of garlic put through a press and cook until transparent. Add 1/2 tsp. of ground cumin and 2 tsp. of ground coriander and cook until they foam slightly. If the spices or garlic burn, which happens in a thrice, discard and repeat. Add 2 Tbsp. of paprika. Heat very gently for a few more moments and then pour the mix over the tomatoes. Squeeze in a lemon, stir, add salt to taste. Serve in a bowl or glass with some minced celery on top.

Monday, August 27, 2007

Guest Post: Tomato-Rama!

Listening to my friend Susana wax poetic about her tomatoes, I said, "Write that down and I'll post it on the blog." So she did, along with a few of her favorite recipes. Her musings follow:

Yes, it’s that time of year, kids; when the tomatoes are so abundant that, instead of bothering yourself with coring, you just cut the tops off to be thrown in the compost. Or when a couple fall to the ground, instead of jumping to the rescue, you just pick the other 12 you see still on the vine! Ah, behold the glorious tomato.

It is, in fact, my favorite time of year, as the late summer sun is at that gorgeous golden hue and the tomatoes are bursting with flavor. There is nothing like the taste of a ripe, homegrown tomato. It's sweet yet tart and juicy to the point where you have to assume the "tomato stance"…feet apart and bent at the waist as you bite into your favorite variety like an apple, juice dripping down your chin and onto your tanned little toes. So here we are in the last few weeks of summer with our counters, tables, chairs and card tables full of tomatoes.

What on earth to do with the abundant harvest? As much as I love tomatoes, after awhile things do get monotonous around my house. I have the standby, which I actually served last night (again). It’s a favorite around my house, but does get old. "Pasta ala I Have Too Many Tomatoes!" is just cooked pasta with olive oil, garlic, parmigiano reggiano cheese, fresh tomatoes and balsamic vinegar tossed in a bowl.

At a loss for ideas? How about these:

Bread and Tomato Soup
In a large pot combine 1 med. loaf of cubed, day old bread (something dense that isn’t sold sliced, like como); 1 head (yes head) of garlic; as many fresh tomatoes as you like. I generally dice up about 6 or 7 and about two quarts of chicken stock. First, sauté the garlic in about 2 to 3 tablespoons of olive oil, then add the cubed bread. Toss in the tomatoes, give a few stirs and add the chicken stock. Bring to a boil, take off the heat and enjoy! This is a very quick soup and should be eaten immediately, as the bread will soak up too much of the stock if left for any longer than an hour or so.

Fresh Tomato "Lasagna"

"Lasagna" because this fabulous dish does contain layers of yummies, but untraditional in the true sense of what most of us think of as lasagna. I’m addicted to my pasta roller and have made a lot of fresh pasta this summer. So, if you like making your own fresh pasta sheets, go for it, or buy them at Pastaworks. I find that fresh pasta is much more delicate and works very well in this dish, but you can use dried lasagna noodles as well. As when building a lasagna, simply layer pasta, olive oil, lots of sliced fresh tomatoes, fresh mozzarella cheese, salt and pepper and some caramelized onions or chopped olives in any size baking dish you like. The beauty of this dish is that you can add all sorts of your favorite goodies: capers, artichoke hearts, whatever! The juice from the fresh tomatoes will be enough liquid for the pasta whether it’s fresh or dried.

Some other great ideas or classics you’ve forgotten in your tomato-induced high:
  • Salsa: Are you still buying salsa? Shame on you!
  • Oven-dry slices and layer them with olive oil and herbs in mason jars.
  • I tried that chutney from Chef Dan Brophy on some grilled salmon and I about fell out of my chair!
  • Classic tomato soup
  • BLT’s: extra "T," of course!
  • Panzanella salad (I like just tomatoes, bread, garlic, red onions, fresh mozzarella and basil)
There are, of course, a myriad of ideas, this being only the tip of the tomato iceberg. Bite in, wipe your chin and relish in the pomodoro because, before you know it, all you’ll get are those red-on-the-outside, white-on-the-inside yuckaroos in December.