At first, hearing that the doyenne of domesticity has fallen prey to the same late blight that struck thousands of gardens might produce that "it can happen to all of us" smirk -- like when the popular high school cheerleader got a zit.
But to look at this photo gallery is heartbreaking to anyone who has ever gardened (including this journalist) or enjoyed a succulent August tomato. Martha lost 70 percent of her 50 varieties of tomatoes. Beautiful, plump fruits suddenly went leafless in July, and now look horrendous -- like an outtake from an "X-Files" episode.
It's worth surfing through her gallery for tips on how to properly stake plants or simply to see what this unusual blight looks like close-up.
Those perplexed by this season's tomato blight, aka "late blight", or simply wondering why the heck the price of the beloved ruby-hued edibles has gone through the roof of late would do well to read this piece by chef/ restaurateur/ locavore Dan Barber in Sunday's New York Times.
Barber reveals that Stone Barns, the farm that is part of his restaurant north of New York City lost half its tomatoes in the span of only three days due to the "pernicious" blight sweeping the northeast. Many organic farmers have been forced to spray using pesticides, losing their organic certifications in the process.
Evidently the spring's wet weather has proved a "four-star hotel" for late blight. Americans looking to save money this year -- seven million more of us investigated home gardening this year -- unknowingly bought starter plants infected with blight from large industrial stores. Ironically, this helped create the problem, as tiny "Trojan horse" vines popped up on windowsills and in cages along the eastern seaboard.
If you're lucky enough to live near a farmers market, don't forget to thank your local farmer and gardener for that sparkling-fresh produce, especially those who grow heirloom vegetables and fruits. In addition to growing delicious produce, they're cultivating history, right on the vine.
Though there are some differences of opinion about its exact definition, an heirloom variety of fruit or vegetable is generally agreed to be one that has been cultivated for at least 50 years. Beans are an heirloom veggie ever-growing in popularity, but the food that truly sings of summer is the tomato.
Heirloom tomatoes are beginning to appear in gardens, at roadside stands and lining produce aisles. In honor of the unique flavors and colors of these beauties, beyond the jump is an original recipe for a summer tomato salad: history you can eat. But remember to save some seeds -- preserving them is the least we can do for these species that give so much to us.
Aside from bacon, lettuce and tomato, what makes the perfect BLT? Balance.
Because there are so few ingredients, each must be carefully weighed against the other: building the sandwich is not entirely dissimilar to building, well, a building. Or, if you're unlucky, a house of cards. Joy the Baker is well-aware of the perils concealed within the bready confines of a BLT, and has, if this picture is any indication, overcome the challenges to construct a real winner. Crispy bacon, thin slices of tomato, some crunchy lettuce and a smear of roasted red pepper mayonnaise on lightly toasted bread: this baby has enough balance to qualify for the U.S. Olympic gymnastics team -- or, failing that, a very tasty lunch.
What do you do when times are tough? Reinvention! Tropicana (and Pepsi) have already done it, and now Heinz is getting in on the action.
Gone are the days when the tasty gherkin graced the label. Did you ever notice it? The gherkin has shrunk over the years, once looking quite hefty (look to the right), and now an almost-forgotten blip at the bottom of the label. Blip or not, it's been on the bottles for over 100 years, and now Heinz Ketchup is trading it in for a "vine-ripened tomato" and a new tagline: "Grown not made."
I get the switch, since nothing about a gherkin makes you think of ketchup, but does it really matter? Does putting a vine-ripened tomato on the label make a difference? I guess I'm just crusty about everything continually changing to look modern. Old isn't necessarily bad. Remember the wave of nostalgia that came with those old Coke bottles? Poor gherkin. Couldn't the pickle and tomato just share?
Yesterday, I mentioned the produce anxiety I face when the summer starts to head into fall. One way I combat the unrest I experience during the waning days of peaches and heirloom tomatoes is to eat meals that are simple, easy combinations of the best of the season. After I unpacked my farmers market haul yesterday, I made a very basic salad for lunch.
You can think of it as a very chunky guacamole, and if you were looking for a tasty dip, you could chop everything a bit finer and serve it with tortilla chips. I like eating more like a creamy salad, the corn kernels blending into the avocado chunks and hiding in the tomatoes. I made mine completely plain, seasoned with just with salt and pepper, although if you wanted a bit more acidity, you could dress it with a squeeze of lime juice. My basic recipe is after the jump.
One of the dishes I look forward to making when summer rolls around is the tomato salad you see above. It's nothing particularly special, just some chopped tomato (I use whatever I have on hand that is ripe, this time it was a bunch of sweet grape tomatoes) tossed with some roughly minced onion (I like red, but you can use whatever you have around) and some shredded basil. It gets dressed with salt, pepper and a glug of olive oil. And that's it.
The thing is that when you let this salad stand around for half an hour or so before serving, it becomes something far greater than just a collection of modest ingredients. The salt draws the liquid out of the tomatoes, which blends with the oil, creating a heavenly dressing. The basil softens and releases fragrant oils, which gently permeates the other ingredients. I can not possibly begin to describe how good it tastes.
Another nice thing about this salad, is that while it is wonderfully simple, it can also be elevated. Sometimes I'll add some cubed cucumber to it for added crunch, along with some small, halved mozzarella balls. It also takes to homemade croutons really nicely. If that's too much work for a simple meal, just grab a hunk of bread to mop of all the juices that will be left at the bottom of the bowl.
The one problem with this dish is that you can only make it during the summer, when tomatoes are ripe. It is bland and unexciting when made with those pale pink orbs that imitate tomatoes during the rest of the year. So do yourself a favor and make it when tomatoes are in season and your basil plant is growing like a weed. And enjoy a perfect summer dish.
If you're a fan of flavored vodkas and can stand a little fun being poked at you, I recommend this post from the A.V.Club. They reviewed three new flavors of vodka from Three Olives brand, and it's pretty amusing.
The flavors in question are tomato, root beer, and triple shot espresso. Not being a huge vodka fan in the first place, I found this review ,um, not too helpful, but entertaining. In the name of humor, they were a little homophobic, but I tried to remember to take it with a grain of salt.
Apparently, the tomato flavor was the least popular, which sounds reasonable to me. Can anyone find a reason for tomato flavored vodka? It didn't even get great reviews with bloody mary mix. The root beer flavor was deemed "all right', but apparently it went well in a root beer float. The triple shot espresso was by far the favorite. A.V.club also tried it with a Starbucks Mocha Frappuccino to raves.
If you have your own personal review of these or any flavored vodkas I'd love to read it. Maybe it'd inspire me to try vodka more often.
A recent study found that cherry tomatoes grown in salt water can turn out tastier and heartier than ones grown normally, partially because the plants have to fight harder to fight the environmental stress and produce more compounds to help them cope. These compounds contain antioxidants like Vitamins C and E, which have healthy effects on those who consume the fruit.
The solution only contains 20% seawater. Unfortunately, not all genotypes of tomatoes react in the same way to the salt water. Some die because they cannot counteract the free radicals from the solution, so don't try to do this with larger tomatoes; it probably won't work. In the study, the water was constantly circulated and the pH controlled by a computer, so the researchers promise that the tomatoes won't taste salty.
The researchers, based at the University of Pisaone in Italy, are encouraging the growth of tomatoes in brackish water, because it will not only lead to juicier, healthier tomatoes, but will help to preserve our freshwater supplies.
Remember the Simpsons episode where Homer accidentally breeds tobacco and tomatoes, calls the resulting hybrid a Tomacco and gets rich?
Unfortunately, the tomacco, albeit a cartoon invention, was the first thing that came to my mind upon hearing about the stramato.
A hybrid of - you guessed it - a tomato and a strawberry - its inventors are saying that their cocktail tomato" boasts a "beautiful strawberry shape, naturally sweet taste and a rich, deep red color."
Eh - I mean, it sounds good, but did the world really need another cocktail tomato? What was wrong with the old ones? Or just plain ol' cherry, for that matter?
It's been unseasonably warm here in Philadelphia for the last few days and so my thoughts are turning to foods available in the spring and summer. I think that our warm temperatures are part of why this image of a sliced tomato stacked with rounds of fresh mozzarella called out to me so much. I would like one, please (right now)!
If you want to tempt my taste buds with some delicious food photography, head over to Flickr and join the Slashfood pool. We want to see your scrumptious creations!
I've been reading Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, a book extolling the virtues of eating locally (and the horrors of eating veggies trucked in from California, Chile, and other places far afield). Beyond simply pushing organic food or a vegetarian lifestyle, Kingsolver suggests that eating foods grown locally, in season, by farmers using sustainable practices can, basically, save the world -- not to mention, be delicious. I've swallowed her pitch hook, line, and heirloom potato, and have begun deeply rethinking our family's grocery lists. Starting this process in the dead of winter is a challenge, and "the sustainable food project" is my way of sharing the struggle with you.
The sandwich, a staple of my family's diet, is a particularly interesting problem. Were I to open a pictorial culinary dictionary under "S," I'd imagine a photo of bread, meat, tomato, lettuce, mayo. But fresh red tomatoes and leafy green lettuce are anything but in season in Oregon, where I live -- and the vast majority of the U.S. and Europe for the next several months. Because it's easy to find a sustainably-farmed source, we've been eating lots of beef, ham, and crusty local bread, but what else?
I've been able to find lots of delicious, flavorful options utilizing local, organic produce.