From what I read, I should be able to take them out and process them into whatever saucy thing I want, as I want it. I'll report back on that later when I find out if they were telling the truth!

Trixie at Farm Home Life sent out a lament into cyberspace--the desire for a summer tomato. My voice joins hers. There is NOTHING like a summer tomato, especially warm from the sun as you pick it off the vine.
In the past, I've had a fairly satisfactory solution:
Many summers I have taken those lovely tomatoes and turned them into something I call "Raw Tomato Soup." I didn't want to process the tomatoes because the flavor, though delicious, would not be that from-the-vine flavor.
What I did was actually pretty simple (read lazy). I washed the tomatoes, cutting out any bad spots. Then I dipped them quickly into boiling water and peeled off the skin.
Next (now pay attention), I blended them with my food processor But. Not. Too. Much. I didn't want puree or even sauce. I wanted small chunks with lots of liquid.
Ready for the final step? I poured the tomatoes into glass jars and FROZE them!
In the middle of winter, I thawed a jar (hint: use wide-mouth jars in case you don't get around to thawing them in time for your meal so the partially thawed mixture slides out), dumped it into a pot to heat up, added a little salt and pepper and had the closest thing that I could get to those summer tomatoes.
You do what you have to when it comes to something this important!
I want fresh from the vine taste too. My tomatoes are big, green, splitting, and have blossom end rot issues. I'm very angry at them. We bought the flat too. I did the boil thing and peeled them. Then I took out the seeds and froze them in bags. I haven't tried the jar freezer sauce thingy. Thank you for the tip. Will be doing that next year.
ReplyDeleteK Quinn--I'm glad I'm not the only one. I was feeling angry about it, too! Perhaps we said unkind things to the tomatoes and they were a tad sensitive. Stupid tomatoes.
ReplyDeleteI was hoping to grab another flat when we returned, but they are gone, gone, gone. Next year. There's always next year.