Monday, February 11, 2013

The Domestic Sensualist, Inadvertant Phallic Kitchen Photography and Tomato Martyrdom


Oh, domesticity! The wonder of dinner plates and cream pitchers. You know your friends by their ornaments. You want everything. If Mrs. A. has her mama's old jelly mold, you want one too, and everything else that goes with it -- the family, the tradition, the years of having jelly molded in it. We domestic sensualists live in a state of longing, no matter how comfortable our own places are.
~ Laurie Colwin, "The Lone Pilgrim"


Laurie Colwin (June 14, 1944 - October 24, 1992) was a short story writer and contributor to Gourmet Magazine.  Two of her books, "Home Cooking" and "More Home Cooking; A Writer Returns to the Kitchen" are staples in my kitchen.  Unbleached All Purpose Flour, a container of  Paula Deen's House Seasoning, homemade brown sugar, and Laurie Colwin's Home Cooking books are the only things in my kitchen that I KNOW I have on hand without checking.  (Also, Marmite. Odd since I can't stand the stuff.  Nevertheless, at least once every twelve months I buy a jar because I have heard it referenced on a BBC "Britcom" or read about it and am convinced that I MUST like it now.  But, alas I never do.  I find it repellent on its own, but hating to waste it, will incorporate it into beef bouillon, soups or stews where it gives a salty "OOMPH" but can't otherwise be recognized.)  I have owned at least three copies of the second book as I often read it while keeping a close eye on a roux, dulce de leche, or something else that needs constant minding.  Unfortunately, this means the poor darlings end up getting splattered, drenched, scorched or schmutzed. An example:



Laurie wrote in a style that makes me feel I am sitting across from her at a bistro table in a sunny kitchen nook while a cat dozes in a sunbeam at our bare feet.  I can hear her voice and imagine her gestures as she tells her stories.  I never met her or saw her interviewed and only discovered her books by accident when I picked one up in a "bargain bin" (Sacrilege!) in 1999.  When I found out she had passed away seven years earlier, I felt like I had lost a friend.  A few years ago, I was looking to see if there were other recipes of hers out there.  I found this article that illustrated just what kind of person and how kind a person Laurie was.

She often wrote of dishes in a conversational manner rather than specific, detailed recipes.  One dish that she discussed is based on vague instructions from a waiter who saw the dish made.  I played with it and came up with the following addictive, multi-tasking goop on the second try.

Last year, I was looking through Zingerman's catalog (I don't like to tell anyone what to do, but if you have not yet been introduced, to Zingerman's GO NOW. Yes, some things are expensive.  I can't imagine buying a $35 jar of what is basically Nutella, but I know if someone bought me a $35 jar of Zingerman's Guido Gobino Gianduja Hazelnut and Chocolate Cream it would be the last time I ever looked at Nutella.) and came across a Sicilian tomato reduction called estratto or "strattu."  After researching how Sicilians make strattu, I think this is a heck of a lot easier, despite the cooking time. In More Home Cooking, Laurie begins her anecdote with "The...tomato concoction has no name." (page 111) For that reason and because I am loathe to disrespect the arduous process involved in making strattu (and am even more loathe to disrespect the good Sicilians who make it), I am calling this:

Laurie Colwin's No-Name Tomato Concoction



This is "Take Two" of the "Assembled Ingredients" photo.  I had started out with the makings for a double recipe and had arranged the four cans of tomatoes in a wall of 2 x 2 cans with the olive oil in the center in front of them.  The two bulbs of garlic were nestled at the base of the olive oil bottle resembling...well,  I didn't see it until I was proofreading. However, I also see a butt print in this view out my snow dusted rear window, so maybe it was just me.

Anywhooooo...

INGREDIENTS:

Two (2) 28 oz. cans of whole plum tomatoes in juice
One (1) head of garlic, peeled and chopped
1/4 cup olive oil
One (1) teaspoon of salt
CAMERA SHY: Two (2) Tablespoons of sugar

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees,

I prefer to only make a small batch, so I use a 10 inch cast iron pot.  The pot will go in the oven to cook, so if you don't have a cast iron pot, a roasting pan will work.


Smash and roughly chop the garlic and dump the tomatoes and juice into your pan.
You can half the tomatoes if you want or even squeeze them to release the juice inside so they don't inflate with steam.  But, if you do you will miss out on some juvenile fun in an hour. Sprinkle the garlic on top of the tomatoes.  Drizzle with 1/4 cup olive oil.  Sprinkle with salt and sugar.
*The sugar helps battle any acidity from the tomatoes and bitterness from the cooked seeds.  When making traditional strattu, the tomato sauce is rigorously strained and the seeds removed.  It also helps caramelize the garlic and tomatoes.


Place in the oven and leave it for one hour.


An hour later, your house (no matter what size) smells like garlic.  (So does your neighbor's bathroom that shares a common wall. At least that is what has been reported to me.)  The tomatoes are inflated and make a great, satisfying "PFFBT!" sound when you poke them with a wooden spoon.  It is the culinary equivalent to popping bubble wrap. (If you are a real grown-up and squeezed the juice out earlier, then you will miss out on this experience and won't understand what it is you missed out on.  Poor you.) Stir the garlic into the tomatoes and leave alone for another hour.


At Hour Two, the tomatoes are starting to brown and the liquid is starting to evaporate.  Stir again and repeat at Hour Three when NNTC looks like this:



Stir and mash tomatoes and big pieces of garlic being mindful of scraping down the browned bits off the sides and bottom of the pot.  The NNTC is starting to incorporate into itself and become a paste.  At this point, you can take a piece of bread and taste to see if you need to add anything.


The mashed mixture goes back into the oven for 30 minutes.  Stir and scrape down The Concoction and back into the oven it goes for another 30 minutes.  Keep scraping and stirring until NNTC is a thick deep maroon colored paste.  A total of about 5 hours for this sized recipe.  The recipe yields about 1 1/2 cups of Laurie Colwin's NNTC.  Yep.  One and a half cups.  Let me state again that this is a MUCH less labor intensive effort than that which is undertaken by the devoted Sicilian strattu makers.  I have no doubt their product is heavenly, but an endeavor that takes 20 lbs. of tomatoes to yield a cup of strattu is some kind of tomato martyrdom.  
I like spreading NNTC on warm, crusty bread.  It is sweet, garlicky and deeply tomatoey (it's a word).  Try other options like tossing it in warm pasta or spreading it on uncooked dough, then top with fresh mozzarella and basil and bake.  Add it to jarred spaghetti sauce to add depth and to claim you made the spaghetti sauce from your own recipe.  Add to vinegar and oil for a tomato vinaigrette.  Use it as a condiment with an omelet and a glass of wine ((Nod to Elizabeth David). Spread it on wounds to heal small cuts and bruises. Okay, that last part may be going a bit far. 
 And "tomatoey" is too a word. z

I think Laurie Colwin would agree with me.




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