Autumn's Up

When I got home from work this evening I was knocked squarely in the face with the full force of fall.  A crisp bike commute and the fact that it's Halloween did no little work to invigorate me to the season of spices and woodsmoke, so I went inside to get my camera and came back out to just sort of roll around in the leaves a bit.  You know when the clouds get that fuzzy, quilted effect?  (See above picture for a pathetic representation.)  Like the whole world is tucking in and hunkering down.  Which reminded me: I went inside and tossed some firewood into our new favorite contraption, the woodstove, and got it goin' nice and cracklin' hot.  Woodstoves are what every home should come with, because we have not turned on our heat but once or twice this year.  We've also been sleeping on the foldout couch in the living room because our bedroom, on the other side of the house, is the approximate temperature of a meatlocker.  But anyway.

The evening called for something hearty, and the last of the late season's crop of tomatoes, courtesy of our friend Raina, were duly chopped, tossed with a bit of olive oil, salt, pepper, and thyme, and roasted in a big Pyrex with garlic.  I kept the cloves whole, but probably wouldn't again with this recipe.  If you decide to give this a whirl, give your garlic a nice chop.

Meanwhile I boiled a mess of spaghetti and when I poured it out to drain, I let some ricotta melt in the hot pot.  Suggested ratio of pasta to ricotta: about a half pound of pasta to 1 cup ricotta.  For greater richness and fat content, add more ricotta to taste.  

When the tomatoes are shriveled and brown around the edges, spoon them with all their attendant juices into the pot with the ricotta.  Mix the two till you get a thick, pink sauce and add more salt and pepper to taste.  Stir in pasta, and if too thick, add a couple tablespoons of the pasta water, which you have wisely reserved.

Enjoy in front of a hot woodstove.

So Long, Sellwood

This morning I weeded and watered my little veggie and flower garden with unusual gusto.  I asked myself as I kneeled what I was going to this effort for, as I will not be tasting a single one of these vegetables.  And I suppose my last little sprucing up of the plot was from an impulse akin to a mother paying extra attention to the clothes and cleanliness of her little kid before sending him onto an airplane by himself.  When you send your own off into the world, you want their best foot to be forward.  Only thing is, I'M the one going off into the world and my little creation is to be left behind.

I had hoped to sample a tomato or two before I leave, but the little guys are still small, green, and cute.  There are lots of them though, and the plants are huge-- twice as big as last year-- so I pat myself on the back for that at least.  To the new tenant: enjoy!  Please don't forget to water.

I'd also like to bid farewell to my other favorite foods, native only to Sellwood.  San Felipe, you make the best enchiladas I've ever tasted (they're made with cotija cheese instead of your usual jack), and it doesn't hurt that your margaritas come in a glass the size of a mixing bowl.  Oaks Bottom, I've stuffed myself many times on your totchoes (imagine the offspring of tater tots and nachos if they were to meet and fall in love).  New Seasons, you are very expensive for a  grocery store, but it's been great having you within walking distance, and I do very much appreciate the attention you give to local farmers-- thanks to you I had Oregon cherries for lunch today.  And oh, the Ugly Mug, one of my all-time favorite coffee shops.  You have supplied me with much tea, hot or iced depending on the season, while I spent hours reading, looking for jobs, or tapping away on my laptop.  Thanks so much for allowing Cally inside; she appreciates that very much.

Take care, little blue house.  Tomorrow I sleep in Hood River!

Sweet Tom

If you love tomatoes, then you have to make this recipe for Bruschetta.  It's so easy, so delicious, and a very picturesque way to feature this gorgeous summer fruit on your table.

Gather four or five cups of tomatoes, optimally local, ideally from your backyard.  The plants in my yard have only been able to muster tiny green nubs as yet, so I purchased two kinds to make a colorful mix: yellow cherries, and a big red heirloom from a farm just outside Portland.  Chop them up into bite-size pieces (and I seeded the larger, heirloom tomato) and toss into a medium bowl.

Add several tablespoons of chopped basil, several tablespoons of olive oil, one to two tablespoons balsamic vinegar, one very small finely chopped red onion, and mix 'em all up.  You can and probably should do all this an hour or two before you serve (but no more) so all the juices can mingle and gather.  If you do it in advance, leave the bowl on the counter-- don't put it in the fridge.

When you're ready to serve, toast or broil sliced french bread or focaccia and while it's still hot, rub both sides of the bread with a halved garlic clove.  This is my first time with the garlic rub-- it WORKS!   I was offending my own self with my breath later that evening, so if you're a garlic-o-phobe, maybe rub only one side of the bread, and briefly at that.

 

Top bread slices with a heaping spoonful of the tomato mixture.  Admire, and serve immediately.

Also pictured: orzo pasta tossed with garbanzo beans, goat cheese, lemon juice, olive oil, and oregano.  Good, but nothing in comparison to the sweet, salty, garlicky, bruschetta.  

Happy July!  And if you've got any superb tomato recipes, please let me know!