I do this every year. I get way too excited at prospect of growing my own food- and then plant and plant and plant (and plant, and plant)- so that by the time harvest season is upon us, I am flooded with more than I can possibly eat. It’s a very good problem to have.
I am also vehemently against food wastage. So, how do I manage the gazillion pounds of tomatoes that ripen in my backyard each and every day this month?
Firstly, all of my friends get as many free tomatoes as they can eat. What’s your favourite? Big and beefy, small and potent? Japanese Black Trifele, Yellow Old German, Costoluto Fiorentino, San Marzano, Sweet Million…
Then, it’s a non-stop tomato-fest at my house. I become the Buford “Bubba” Blue of tomatoes. Tomato salads, tomato salsa, tomato sauce, tomato soup, fried tomatoes, baked tomatoes, stuffed tomatoes…
What fascinates me is the different characteristics each tomato was bred for. Old Germans and Black Trifeles make my caprese salads sing. The San Marzanos are drier inside, making them less suitable for salads but utterly amazing for sauces and pastes. The sweet millions make an excellent snack just about anytime, but I love them halved and tossed into salads and pastas. Finally, this year’s experimental tomato: the Costoluto Fiorentino. I had no idea what to expect from this varietal, barring what I had read on the 2 inch tag affixed to the pot when I bought it.
Wow, this one is definitely getting planted again next year. As seen above, these heavily ridged, squat tomatoes fit somewhere in between the meaty Old German and the dry San Marzano. Perfect for slow roasting!
Now, don’t think you have to go out and track down some CF tomatoes for this recipe- you definitely don’t. Any tomatoes will do, those just happened to be my favourites of the year.
Best of all, this recipe is great for those tomatoes that are, perhaps, a day past their prime. Too many tomatoes? Need to use them up before they spoil? DO THIS. You won’t regret it.
Slow roasting tomatoes produces an end product that is somewhere between fresh and sundried. They still retain a lot of meatiness and juiciness, but the flavours have cooked and richened until… well, the results are something that need to be tasted. Unbelievable.
I tend to raise an eyebrow when food bloggers describe every recipe as ‘the best thing that has ever existed make this now omg yasssss’. Yes, we all want our readers to try out our recipes, but let’s not act like everything that crosses through this blog is the best thing you have ever experienced in your life.
… except these tomatoes are. I swear, I’m not lying. If you like tomatoes, these will change your life.
So, I’m breaking my own rules but- with good reason! I’m spreading the gospel of the incredibly easy, mouth-nirvana, rockets of flavour that are slow-roasted tomatoes.
Salt, pepper, olive oil, thyme, tomatoes. Is that even an ingredient list? So simple! Bake at a low heat for 3-4 hours (less if your tomatoes are drier or smaller, more if you are using large, juicy tomatoes).
I add these beauties to everything- sandwiches, pastas, cheese platters, dips… even now I’m getting excited about potential new uses. What am I going to do when my abundance of tomatoes dries up?!?
The roasted tomatoes keep well in the fridge for up to a week, but I have never been able to keep them around that long. Some of the juices will ooze out in the fridge, creating what looks like a golden syrup at the bottom of your container. That’s actual gold. Well, not actual gold, but it is as valuable! Drizzle this syrup anywhere. It blesses everything it touches. Really.
|Slow Roasted Tomatoes|| |
- Tomatoes, halved horizontally
- Olive oil
- Fresh thyme, leaves picked
- Salt and pepper
- Preheat oven to 250 degrees. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper.
- Lay tomatoes on the baking sheet, skin side down. Lightly brush the tops of the tomatoes with olive oil. Sprinkle with salt, pepper and thyme leaves. Bake for 3.5-4 hours, until dried but still juicy.