Skip to main content

Fresh Tomato Sauce

I dropped a bunch of cookbooks in front of my husband this weekend and told him to pick meals for the week. He filled out a weeks worth of dinners with references so I could find the recipe.  It was very helpful.  What he didn't do was actually read the recipes.  Once of his choices was spaghetti with plum tomatoes and basil.  I didn't follow the recipe because I'm an inherently lazy cook and because I believe I am capable of throwing together a fresh tomato sauce.  You are also capable of creating such a lovely thing. So I'm not going to give a recipe, but I will walk you through the process.

Fresh tomato sauce

Start with good tomatoes. There's no point in trying this with mediocre tomatoes.  Buy enough to feed however many people you're going to feed.  Set a pot of water in the stove to boil. Coarsely chop the tomatoes, place in a colander and sprinkle with a small amount of salt.  Allow to drain.  When the water comes to a boil, drop spaghetti, I use whole wheat, about 2 ounces per person in and allow to cook about 8 minutes.  While the spaghetti cooks, chop garlic, up to 1/2 clove per person depending on your tolerance for garlic, and fresh basil.

Warm a serving bowl with a few ladle-fuls of cooking water, then drain and wipe dry.  Toss the tomatoes, garlic,  and basil into the bowl along with a pinch of crushed red pepper and some freshly ground black pepper.  When the spaghetti is done cooking, drain and add to the tomatoes.  Toss and then add a splash of really good olive oil.  Serve, and try not to fight over the last few pieces of tomatoes that are left in the bottom of the bowl.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Thing with Feathers: A sermon for Proper 14, Year C

  “Hope” is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all - And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard - And sore must be the storm - That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm - I’ve heard it in the chillest land - And on the strangest Sea - Yet - never - in Extremity, It asked a crumb - of me. ~Emily Dickinson   I love a new notebook: lined or gridded, sketchbook, or thick watercolor paper, a planner or just fresh, blank pages. I do a lot of writing, and a new notebook and a good pen is always the best part of a project. Together the pen and notebook represent the launch of something new; the anticipation of success. In fact I love new notebooks so much that I bought too many and now I am not allowed to buy any more. This is my own rule and I have only myself to blame. I get really excited about the new thing, but my enthusiasm wanes and the notebooks sit abandoned with only a f...
Post a Comment
Read more

Butter(less) Chickpeas

On Monday morning I got a call from a client, warning that my services would be needed soon. The threat of labor makes me pretty efficient. I filled and ran the dishwasher, cleaned the sink, took the boys grocery shopping, got the groceries put away, fed the boys lunch, emptied the dishwasher, made snack and dinner for the boys, filled the dogs' water, cleaned the dog' ears, and put the flowers in the vase. I spent the rest of Monday at the birth, watching a skilled nurse-midwife facilitate the VBAC my client wanted despite circumstances that might have sent some providers running for the operating room. It was a great birth, the baby was perfect and I'm glad I was there to witness it. But it meant that I didn't get to bed until 2:00 in the morning. When I say that I am a morning person, I do not mean 2:00 in the morning. A mere five hours later the sun was up and my children were up and my husband was getting ready to leave for work. I had a follow-up scheduled for...
10 comments
Read more

Making Christmas

Years ago, when my parents married, my mother asked my father what he would like her to make for Christmas. He asked for Julekake, a Scandinavian Christmas bread. It was common in the bakeries in my father's childhood Chicago, but it was more difficult to find in the small Army towns where my father was posted, so my mother found a recipe, and baked her own. We ate it with eggs or bacon or sausage every Christmas breakfast of my childhood. My mother baked simple round loaves studded with raisins and candied cherries. When I grew up I swapped out dried cherries for the candied ones. I baked it in the oven of my boyfriend's apartment before I went to share Christmas with his family, inhaled the scent of them to make it Christmas when the traditions around me were not my own. I've discovered that the fruit is not mandatory, though I'd never leave it out. A braid is traditional, and I'll make a braided loaf when I have time, though for gift giving I ...
9 comments
Read more