I took pounds and pounds of heirloom, and cherry, juliet's and purple Cherokee tomatoes, and roasted them with onions and garlic, and then pureed them, and added yummy fresh basil and oregano, and MORE garlic, and the result was a delicious sauce, with some kick to it, after I told David to add whatever he thought it needed.
I carefully ladeled it into jars, and processed them, and I can't explain to you the feeling I got when I heard all the little metallic pings sound off in the kitchen, signaling the canning process was a success. I realize how odd that may sound, but canning has always seemed like somewhat of a mystery to me. I pictured little Amish women preparing for winter. Or church going, blue haired ladies, jarring up their prize winning preserves.
Yet, spending a grey day in my kitchen slicing up cucumbers, and dill was really relaxing. Not only did I make sauce, but we have a nice supply of pickles, for all of our pickle needs, and I also pickled carrots, and green beans. Tomorrow, I am going to take the giant bowl of tomatillos and hot peppers we have in the kitchen, and roast them up for a salsa.
Knowing we have food "stores" also eases my mind. Like we will be OK in a pinch. Not that a dinner of pickles and sauce would be greeted well by my girls, but it satisfied some sort of primitive urge. The hunter and gatherer in me. Preparing for leaner days ahead.
It sounds nice thinking about a snowy day, that will be here all too soon, and making sauce from tomatoes that we got at Josie Porter Farm, our wonderful organic farm here. This summer has been so wonderful, in all of it's simplicity. Some plans changed. Some goals shifted around a bit. But to be able to taste a little bit of what we had these past months will be really sweet.