Taste of Summer in Winter: Pappa al Pomodoro (Tomato Bread Soup)

If you have ever dipped a piece of bread in a pot of spaghetti sauce, this recipe is for you.  It is apparently the typical after school snack of children in Tuscany, and let me tell you, it beats milk and cookies by a mile. I have run across similar recipes, and have always been intrigued, but until now, have never made it.  It almost seemed too delicious to have for supper, a guilty pleasure for an adult in the same way that having pancakes for dinner might be for a child.  With the right tomatoes, it is a bright taste of summer in the middle of this drab winter, and it is exactly what we needed last week.  I used tomatoes that I had canned last summer, and they were perfect.  You could wait until summer to try pappa al pomodoro, or you could spend a few dollars extra and buy some San Marzano tomatoes, which I think would be almost as good as really good home-canned ones.  Add some fresh basil and some fresh ground pecorino romano, and it really is seriously awesome.

Pappa al Pomodoro (Tomato Bread Soup)

Adapted from Cooking with Italian Grandmothers by Jessica Theroux

1 medium loaf day old rustic Italian bread, crust removed and cut into cubes

2 pounds fresh tomatoes, or canned plum tomatoes

5 large garlic cloves, sliced very thin

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

1 1/2-2 cups chicken stock

salt

1/4 cup fresh torn basil leaves

extra virgin olive oil for garnish

Put the tomatoes through a foodmill or in a blender to create a chunky puree.  In a large saucepan, saute the garlic slices in the olive oil for a few minutes.  When it is just about to turn golden, place the bread in the pot, and sprinkle about 1/2 cup of the chicken stock over the bread cubes.  Stir to coat the bread in the garlic and oil.  Add the pureed tomatoes, a large pinch of salt, and another cup of chicken stock.  Stir every five minutes or so as the soup comes to a simmer,  After 30 minutes, taste the pappa, add salt if necessary, and add more chicken stock if the consistency is not right.  It should be a mush; not too liquidy.  When ready to serve, add the basil, and serve in small bowls, sprinkled with pecorino romano cheese and drizzled with olive oil.

Making Summer Last: Panzanella

Today is officially my last day of summer vacation.  School starts for most kids next week, so for us teachers, the mad rush to the first day of school begins this week.  While I love teaching, the transition each year is a tough one.  To go from the long, relaxing summer days where the biggest decision is what to have for dinner, to getting up at 5:15 AM and hitting the ground running is a tough one.  Teachers look forward to summer each year, not necessarily for the reasons you would think.  While we love the free time, what we really need is the long strand days where we do not have to plan what we are doing the next day or the next class. For ten months each year, the first thought I have when I wake up is "what am I doing in the classroom today?"  The summer provides the break from that.

Don't get me wrong.  By the end of the summer, I am ready to go back.  It is time to use my brain again, and of course, time to earn a paycheck again!  But I still feel that sadness at the end of each summer.  Time is passing too quickly, the kids are growing up much too rapidly.  As the saying goes, 'the days are long, but the years are short.'  So I do what I can to extend that summer feeling.  In addition to making a point of getting outside to enjoy the beautiful weather that September brings to Connecticut, I also continue to cook like it is summer. 

The vegetables in the garden and at the farmer's markets are hitting their peak right now, and nothing is more delicious than late summer tomatoes. We have been working toward real panzanella all summer, and waiting for the garden to yeild those sweet, juicy, red tomatoes.  They are here in spades, almost too many to eat.  Almost.

Summer Panzanella:

4-5 excellent summer tomatoes

1 cucumber, peeled, seeded, and sliced

1/2 medium red onion

2 tbsp. capers (optional

big bunch basil

salt and pepper to taste

1 small loaf Italian bread (I used a small ciabatta loaf), cubed

Extra Virgin olive oil

3 tbsp. balsamic vinegar

Toast the bread cubes by drizzling with 1-2 tablespoons of olive oil, a sprinkling of salt, and placing in a 300 degree oven for about 20 minutes, or until crunchy.  Cut up the tomatoes into bite sized chunks, and place in a large bowl.  Add cucumbers, onions, capers, if using, and basil.  Once the bread is toasted and cooled, add to the tomato mixture.

Mix 4 tablespoons of olive oil with 3 tablespoons of balsamic vinegar, and whisk together.  Drizzle over the bread and tomato mixture, tossing to coat.  Add salt and pepper to taste, and mix again.  Add more dressing if necessary.  Serve immediately, and savor the taste of summer.

A Salad Nana Would Love: Wedge Salad with Homemade Blue Cheese Dressing

As I was growing up, it seemed that all around me were wonderful examples of smart and strong women.  In addition to my mother and maternal grandmother, there were many dear friends of my mother who were raising children, taking care of a household, and still forging careers and contributing to the world around them.  My mother's dear friend Dolly raised five children as a single mother, created a career for herself by identifying a need in our community and filling it, and still managed to be the life of the party and a riot to be around.  My mother's friend Ellen was so interested in the world it was contagious, and my Aunt Kathy often reinvented her professional self while always remaining true to who she was. 

My father's mother, my Nana, was an example of a strong woman who was in many ways ahead of her time. She had a good career working for the telephone company at a time when many women did not work outside the home.  She spoke of those days so proudly, and it was clear that although she needed to work financially, she enjoyed what she did and the people she met and with whom she became lifelong friends.    She was a character and a great lady, my Nana.  She smoked her Pall Malls until the day she died, which was well into her 80s, she salted her beer, and she pronounced potatoes "pa-DAY-das."  One of the things I always appreciated was the fact that while we were in college, my Nana would take my sister and me out for dinner whenever we were home from school on break. I think it was her way of getting to know us as adults, having a little quality time with us, and catching up with us.  Usually we would go to a place called The Seafarer, a seafood restaurant, where, ironically, we would all order the stuffed chicken breast.  But before the entree, we always got a salad, and Nana introduced us to Blue Cheese dressing, which we loved.  Nowadays, it seems that the "Wedge Salad,' with its signature blue cheese dressing  is on just about every restaurant menu, and I love it.  The crisp iceberg lettuce seems so retro, but in the best way.  If tomatoes are in season, and the bacon is crispy, it is a beautiful thing. What is old is new again. Even in this, Nana was ahead of her time.

Wedge Salad  (Serves 4)
1 head iceberg lettuce, cored, trimmed and washed
8 strip thick cut bacon, cooked until crisp
2 really good tomatoes (I used heirloom from my garden), cut into small chunks
2/3 cup light cream or half and half
6 ounces Gorgonzola or bleu cheese crumbled and divided
1/2 clove garlic, minced fine
1/2 tsp. black pepper

To make dressing:  Put cream or half and half in a microwaveable bowl, add garlic and pepper.  Microwave on medium heat until very warm.  Crumble 5 ounces Gorgonzola (eyeball it) into the warm cream and stir until it is mostly melted into the cream.  Put it back into the microwave if necessary.  Place the dressing in the fridge until very cold.  Right before serving, add the remainder of the cheese to make it chunky.

Cut the lettuce in half, then in half again, keeping it in the wedges.  Place the wedges onto either 4 plates, or line them up in a platter.   Place tomatoes on top of lettuce wedges.  Crumble bacon and scatter over lettuce and tomatoes.  Drizzle dressing over the whole salad.  Enjoy!  Delicious with a salted beer (just like Nana liked it).

A Tribute to my Grandparents: Roasted Summer Tomatoes

I cannot think of, eat, or even smell tomatoes without thinking of my beloved Grandma and Grandpa.  As I have mentioned before, I was fortunate enough to grow up in the same house as my maternal grandparents.  They were both originally from Italy, emigrating to this country around the time they were married in the early 1930s.  They settled, had four children, raised their family, made friends, were good neighbors, and contributed to their community.  They lived the American Dream at a time when the American Dream did not mean chasing after wealth.  My grandparents, Vincenzo and Vincenzella, wanted only a good life.  They wanted a home of their own, they wanted to watch their family grow; they wanted the riches of a simple life.  My Grandpa and Grandma carried their heritage with them when they came here.  They told many stories of their childhood in the small village in Southern Italy, they cooked the food they grew up with and welcomed many to their home and their table with graciousness and generosity. 

My grandfather had a large garden in our backyard every summer.  He grew squash, eggplant, peppers, string beans, herbs, and plenty of tomatoes.  They were really the main focus of his gardening.  Grandpa would sit out at the garden for hours each day, getting up from time to time to tie a plant to its pole, or pick a tomato that was ripened.  He kept a mason jar with a little water in it out at the picnic table and would circulate through the garden now and then, using the jar to capture beetles that dared to try to munch on his baby tomato plants.  He was protective of these prized goodies.  My sister Betsy  found that out many times, as she would try to sneak into the garden while our grandfather was not looking.  She would always bring the salt shaker with her, so that she could pick, salt, and eat her fill of tomatoes right there, among the tall plants.  There is something about a tomato that is still warm from the sun that is irresistible.  Grandpa would shoo her out of the garden, both of them laughing a little.  But I always wondered why my grandfather would just sit there, watching, looking, contemplating. To me, it looked boring.

 This year, as my garden is growing and maturing, I understand it for the first time. It is a beautiful thing to watch what you have planted grow and bear fruit.  It is slow gratification, but gratifying nonetheless.  

Once the tomatoes were ripe, it was my grandmother's turn.  She canned tomatoes for days on end, through the heat of those late summer days, putting up enough to get the entire extended family through the winter.  She would then make sauce, soups, and countless other delicious things to feed their family.

I think this effort was really symbolic of how my grandparents lived their lives.  Though their marriage was arranged, they built a beautiful life together.  They loved each other in the deepest sense.  They tried to nurture and protect those they loved and do the best they could for their children and grandchildren.  They worked together, not always harmoniously, but in the end, the fruits of their combined labor were even more gratifying to them than those tomatoes were. 

As I do not have the patience or fortitude of my sweet Gram, I take the easy way out when it comes to preserving my tomatoes for the winter.  As I harvest them, I cut a batch of them up into chunks, and stew them with some garlic, olive oil, and of course, basil.  I use 2 large cast iron skillets, and roast them outside on my gas grill, so as not to heat up my house on these hot days. I freeze these stewed tomatoes in plastic freezer bags or containers, and take them out throughout the year to use in making sauces, soups, or anything else that calls for tomatoes.  And with every sweet, soupy bite of those tomatoes, I am reminded of the comfort and love that was always given so readily by my dear grandparents.

Stewed Tomatoes:

As many fresh, ripe, native tomatoes as you can get your hands on (supermarket tomatoes don't count!)

a bunch of fresh basil for every 3 pounds of tomatoes
3-5 cloves of garlic (peeled, no need to chop) per batch
3 tablespoons of good quality olive oil per batch
A pinch or two of salt

Cut the tomatoes up into 1 inch chunks, and add remaining ingredients to the skillet.  Cook either in the oven at 300 degrees, or on the gas grill (with the cover down)  on medium low heat, until the tomatoes have been cooked down and the juices have reduced by about a third.  If the tomatoes are not very juicy, you can add a little low sodium chicken stock, but it is usually not necessary.  Use the tomatoes right away as a sauce (a little fresh mozzarella and Pecorino Romano makes it perfect), or save to use in a tomato sauce or a soup.  Will last in the freezer for several months.  Yum!