It was only a few weeks ago that I was standing in my vegetable garden, surveying my huge, healthy tomato plants laden with unripe fruit and wondering what I was going to do with all those tomatoes.
As fate would have it, it’s no longer a problem. A late blight fungus has swept the northeast this summer, killing tomato vines before their time. My formerly robust plants look like victims of a nuclear blast. And all those green tomatoes are still out there.
Luckily, my potted tomato plants (knock on wood) have avoided the scourge, so I still have enough tomatoes for salads and sandwiches. But visions of frozen tomatoes and homemade sauce have, alas, fallen by the wayside. Such is life.
This week, the New York Times has been running
recipes for green tomatoes -- apparently, I’m not the only one whose tomato dreams have been crushed this year. It seemed like a good opportunity to make fried green tomatoes, which I’ve wanted to try ever since I saw the movie.
Whaddya know: they’re actually very good. All you do is slice green tomatoes, dip them in cornmeal, and fry them -- traditionally in bacon fat, but I used sunflower oil -- and then drain on paper towels. Ripe red tomatoes would disintegrate if treated this way, but rock-hard green tomatoes soften perfectly as they cook, and their acidic quality balances any greasiness. We dipped them in ketchup, again non-traditional, but what do you expect from New Englanders?
In the movie, fried green tomatoes were served along with barbecued ribs whose provenance was best not questioned too closely. I bet they’d also taste good with any hearty chicken dish, or even scrambled eggs.
As fate would have it, it’s no longer a problem. A late blight fungus has swept the northeast this summer, killing tomato vines before their time. My formerly robust plants look like victims of a nuclear blast. And all those green tomatoes are still out there.
Luckily, my potted tomato plants (knock on wood) have avoided the scourge, so I still have enough tomatoes for salads and sandwiches. But visions of frozen tomatoes and homemade sauce have, alas, fallen by the wayside. Such is life.
This week, the New York Times has been running recipes for green tomatoes -- apparently, I’m not the only one whose tomato dreams have been crushed this year. It seemed like a good opportunity to make fried green tomatoes, which I’ve wanted to try ever since I saw the movie.
Whaddya know: they’re actually very good. All you do is slice green tomatoes, dip them in cornmeal, and fry them -- traditionally in bacon fat, but I used sunflower oil -- and then drain on paper towels. Ripe red tomatoes would disintegrate if treated this way, but rock-hard green tomatoes soften perfectly as they cook, and their acidic quality balances any greasiness. We dipped them in ketchup, again non-traditional, but what do you expect from New Englanders?
In the movie, fried green tomatoes were served along with barbecued ribs whose provenance was best not questioned too closely. I bet they’d also taste good with any hearty chicken dish, or even scrambled eggs.