Have I mentioned that we are growing tomatoes? We are growing tomatoes. Our garden contains six heirloom tomato plants graciously gifted by someone D met at his bartending/waiting job at a local theater—four Brandywines and two Black Seamans (#isitracist?). They have all begun ripening at once and the Brandywines are averaging 1-2 pounds APIECE. I am not making this up. It means that for each of the past few days, I have been faced with the wonderful dilemma of what to do with about 7 or 8 pounds of fresh tomato.
The Black Seamans (Seamen?) are quite pretty and rich, so I’ve been lining them up to stare at before putting them in salads.
The Brandywines are gigantic, juicy, meaty, and occasionally elephant-mannish in appearance, so I’ve been butchering them for sauce.
Last night we ate a beautiful sauce spiked with fresh herbs over gnocchi. I forgot to take pictures. But then today, when I harvested ANOTHER 7 pounds of tomatoes, I was all, “Can I even eat more pasta and sauce?” If you know me at all you should know that this is a sign of the apocalypse. I will never actually tire of eating pasta and tomato sauce. If you put some in front of me right now, it would already be gone by the time you finish this sentence. But just the fact that the question of whether I wanted pasta and sauce occurred to me was a sign that maybe it was time for another solution to the Epic Tomato Harvest of 2010.
Today, in addition to a billion pounds of tomatoes, I picked two cucumbers, four green peppers, and two habanero peppers—the very first!
(Note tomato splatter by knife. My hands smell like tomato guts constantly.)
And everyone knows that when life gives you tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, and habaneros, you make gazpacho.
Here’s what I love about having a garden and a Cuisinart food processor: it can make you feel like a genius with very little actual work on your part. I put all of the above in the processor (in batches, natch) with a shallot, the juice of one lemon, and, at the last minute, in a fit of funky innovation, some fresh tarragon.
Since D and I both like our food spicy and spicier, I was pretty sure we were going to do a 2-habanero gazpacho, but thank god I had the presence of mind to do only one to start. Those things are FIERCE. One gave the whole cauldron a mean bite. I seasoned with salt and stuck it all in the fridge.
(Note on the Fridge of Champions: The jar on the left and the two Corningwares are full of gazpacho. The jar on the right is the sauce left over after we ate ourselves silly last night. The Lowenbrau tallboys are self-explanatory.)