SFist in the Kitchen: Tomatoes
Nothing from the garden tastes so essential. The acid-tinged sweet richness is like summer distilled on a plate. - Ed Behr, The Artful Eater.
You knew this post was coming. You've seen tomatoes piled up at the farmer's markets, a gumball machine of green, yellow, orange, and red spheres, and you've wondered when we're going to talk about them. Never fear, we intend to take full advantage of this mouthwatering selection. Though supermarket versions have gotten better over the years, they still suffer from being picked too early or refrigerated, both of which can stunt the flavor. Good farmers, on the other hand, pick the tomatoes at their peak of ripeness and don't refrigerate the fragile fruit. And while we don't believe that the word "heirloom" necessarily makes tomatoes taste better, we do enjoy the wider range of flavors and colors. We're actually thinking of doing a second tomato post in a few weeks, comparing the different heirloom varieties. What do you think?
Most of you know that the tomato is botanically a fruit, but why does everyone treat it like a vegetable? Harold McGee's On Food and Cooking argues that it's because of the high amounts of glutamic acid and sulfur aromas, which give it a savory quality that pairs well with meats. If you think you're sensitive to MSG, avoid tomatoes (and Parmiggiano-Reggiano. Ouch).
Photos by Melissa Schneider
Tomatoes are America's second-favorite "vegetable" (the potato beats it out), but they've had a rough road to acceptance. For centuries after they were brought from the Americas, few believed they were edible. Theater geeks will remember that Thornton Wilder's "The Skin of Our Teeth" alludes to this fear of the tomato. The debate might have come from the fact that tomatoes are members of the nightshade family. You can imagine why people were cautious. But, as millions of people now know, domesticated tomatoes are perfectly safe. Even the leaves, thought to be poisonous until recently, are harmless. The tomatine compound diners feared actually reduces cholesterol. Maybe they should put tomato leaves on hamburgers instead of tomatoes.
When tomatoes are at their best, we cook them as little as possible. Though high-end raw-food restaurant Roxanne's shut down, we vividly remember one of the dishes they served. It featured three raw slices of different heirloom tomatoes, drizzled with a quality olive oil, and finished with a little salt. We painstakingly reproduced that dish with some tomatoes we found at Eatwell Farms. We'll share the recipe with you so that you may benefit from the fruits of our extensive research: Cut tomatoes into thick slices, drizzle with a good olive oil, finish with a good salt (we used Maldon sea salt, which SFist Sam contributed to the test kitchen). Cut the slices just before eating, as the flavor compounds diminish quickly in cut tomatoes. By the way, if your knives aren't sharp, a serrated knife will work better for cutting the tomatoes. But we'd like to remind you that the Grand Lake and Ferry Plaza farmer's markets offer knife-sharpening services. Bring them your knives; you'll be glad you did.
We're also fond of the classic bruschetta, where diced tomatoes, chiffonaded basil, garlic, salt and pepper are mixed together and served atop thick, crunchy slabs of good bread that's been toasted and rubbed vigorously with a garlic clove. We had tremendous success with our impromptu tomato tart: tomato rounds, prosciutto, and feta atop a puff pastry crust. And of course you should buy a few armfuls of succulent red tomatoes to boil down into a sauce you can freeze and use in the dead of winter, when you want a reminder of summer's pleasures.
Lots of cookbooks offer tomato-heavy recipes, but the "Twelve Ways of Looking at Tomatoes" chapter in Paul Bertolli's Cooking by Hand never ceases to inspire us. We're thinking that we might need to make his ginger ice cream with tomato syrup, or try our hand at making conserva, essentially homemade tomato paste. We're hoping to squeeze as many of these dishes as we can out of the short season. When we serve a dish that showcases raw or lightly cooked tomatoes, we're likely to offset it with the elegant taste and crisp acidity of a Mosel Kabinett Riesling. When our dish highlights hearty, concentrated tomato flavors that come from long cooking, we reach for an Italian Sangiovese.
Recipe: Impromptu Tomato Tart
We imagine that you'll want to make your own puff pastry. I mean, to think that anyone wouldn't! But for that small percentage of you that has neither the time nor the inclination to roll your own, we recommend Dufour Puff Pastry, which costs more than Pepperidge Farm's and is harder to find, but tastes oh so much better. We found some great feta at Oakland's Pasta Shop, but any good market should have a decent selection.
- Preheat oven to 425°.
- Slice three or four tomatoes into rounds by cutting parallel to the ends.
- Slice four or five pieces of prosciutto into inch-wide strips.
- Crumble 1/4 lb. good feta into a small bowl.
- In another small bowl, beat an egg.
- On a lightly floured surface, roll out a half-sheet of puff pastry into a more or less circular shape roughly ten inches in diameter. Brush the flour off the dough frequently; it will toughen the dough if too much gets incorporated.
- Chill pastry in the fridge for half an hour. This will keep the layers of butter sandwiched between layers of dough, rather than having them melt prematurely. We folded our dough into quarters and put it on a plate.
- Remove the puff pastry, unfold it, and place it onto a cookie sheet. Brush the dough with the beaten egg. Quickly lay tomato slices on tart crust, leaving an inch or so around the edge. Drape strips of prosciutto over tomato slices.
- Cook tart until the edges are puffy and starting to brown, about eight minutes. Sprinkle crumbled feta over top of tart, and return to the oven until feta is warm and soft, about three minutes.
- Remove tart from the oven, let cool briefly, and serve.