I love tomatoes. When they are cooked. I love tomato sauce in all its many forms. I love ketchup. I love stewed tomatoes. You name it. Cook a tomato and I love it. Raw tomatoes? Well, that's another story altogether. My mother loved raw tomatoes. My husband loves raw tomatoes. Everyone I know pops raw cherry tomatoes into their mouths like candy. Me? I hate raw tomatoes. I can get them down. Occasionally. But not often and not because I like them. I'll make a face every time. I can't help it.
Do not put raw tomato slices on my burger, my sandwich or my salad. Spare me the cherry tomatoes on the crudite platter. There isn't enough salad dressing and vegetable dip on the planet to drown them. I don't like the taste of raw tomatoes. I don't like the texture of raw tomatoes. In other words, I do not like raw tomatoes.
I have struggled for years, decades even, to learn to like raw tomatoes. Nearly every summer, when we're awash in a sea of garden-ripe gifted tomatoes, I choke a few down in hopes that some divine intervention will occur in my taste buds. No such luck. Ever. Me? I take all those red orbs and turn them into cooked tomato sauce. Look, I even have to steel myself to peel and seed them. It's almost stomach turning. That's how much I hate raw tomatoes.
So there it is on page 265 of TAOSF. My nemesis. My ultimate culinary challenge. Because the things I'm cooking I'm going to have to eat. Page 265, on the left side of the page. Raw Tomato Sauce. WTF??? Why would anyone ever consider dumping chopped up raw tomatoes on top of perfectly good freshly cooked pasta? This makes no sense to me whatsoever. Two pounds of raw tomatoes. Skinned, seeded and whacked up into bits. Add torn (not chopped) basil leaves and plenty of olive oil, salt, pepper, and a shot of Pepper Plant sauce. Cover tightly (why??? will it produce air pollution???) and leave it alone for at least an hour. Boil the best pasta in the pantry. Put the oh-lord-help-me RAW tomato sauce over the pasta, hide it all underneath a huge mound of freshly grated Parmesan and, saints preserve me, eat it. Chase back with plenty of toasted crostini dripping with olive oil.
I made it. I ate it. Raw tomato sauce. It wasn't bad. Not my favorite dish. But, I'd make it again and eat it again. Obviously I agree with Alice that this is a dish for that time of year when tomatoes are at their very best. These were from a friend's garden, so I knew they would be as good as tomatoes ever get. Whatever that is. Randy liked it. There is easily enough sauce for another meal. Oh sigh. Well, whatever. It's done. Another major hurdle cleared.
Reminds me of one of my favorite sayings. Swallow a whole frog first thing in the morning and nothing worse can possibly happen to you for the rest of the day. I have eaten my TAOSF frog.
81 recipes down; 224 to go
2 comments:
If one is a purist about this, your tomatoes were not exactly raw. I mean, they marinated in olive oil and basil and salt and pepper and pepper sauce for awhile. And, they got tossed in with hot pasta. But, I'll give it to you, anyway. Big of me, huh? :-]
BTW, the word verification word is "salindbo." Said with enough gusto, it could be a toast to your raw tomato sauce dinner.
If Alice says it's raw, it's raw. Anyway, it's spooned, at room temperature, over the hot pasta -- not tossed into the hot pasta. Does that help?? It's raw tomato SAUCE, not raw tomatoes. Gimme a break. Anyway, I ate the stuff. Twice, since there was plenty for 2 dinners. And I lived. I didn't love it, but I liked it and would make/serve/eat it again. 8-P
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