Out of all the vegetables you can potentially cultivate for yourself or others – I think tomatoes are some of the most fulfilling to produce. If we were never exposed to these practices as children, then the most one is familiar with are the polished hot house varieties stocked to the ceiling in grocery markets. I’ve spent many hours staring at them, pondering where their blemishes are – a hint of imperfection; of a life worth living. They never get soft or bruise, and there is that underlying plasticity element – their taste hardly registers on the tongue. To gain the exposure to the deep and wide variety of heirlooms is to properly be acquainted with the tomato. Any farmer will ecstatically chat for hours on end about the varying beauties that comprise the vast tomato family. If you are ever considering the beginnings of a vegetable garden – do begin with a tomato plant.
What fascinates me this time of year is the sky. It almost seems that as soon as the temperatures begin to fade that the sky transforms into the bluest ocean it’s ever been. The haze from the heat and smoke from the fires retreat and clarity is abundant. The nights are bold and clear, and the stars hang low and plentiful. The wind is just a breeze right now (no sooner to become the roar of winter), and it caresses our cheeks on strolls and jaunts. It is the altogether brisk feeling that accompanies this season that lightens my heart effortlessly. The earth is readying itself to slumber or pass on, and the clarity that reckons this event is all-encompassing and strong.
Undoubtedly our conversations turn to soup. It’s necessary, communal, nourishing, and widely embraced. One of us makes soups for part of their living. We will spend the entirety of the winter talking about and making soup. The elements that comprise a bowl are endless and worth a lifetime. The comfort one receives from said bowl is gratifying and nurturing. The basic and nude idea of containing complete sustenance in a bowl is real. This will not be the last time I gush my fountain of soupy praises – merely it is the first.
And the tomatoes are slowing down. They must realize that the equinox is upon us. This year our main concentration was between pineapple tomatoes, black krims, and the inevitable brandywine (all pictured above). To not devote our respect by way of summer’s end soup is to not breathe the autumn air. The tomatoes roasted in with a few leeks, and the house smelled divine. We also grew baltimore carrots (pictured) – which proved themselves in volume and verse. A beautiful and delicious variety. Sauteed with some home crafted harissa paste, and the house smelled divine.
I share a recipe that embodies this transitional period of satisfaction, gratitude and equinox. May your skies be washed blue where you reside, and the air crisp with the welcoming of season.
- 5 lbs of heirloom tomatoes
- 2 leeks, bottom halves - green and white parts
- olive oil
- 1-2 tbl grapeseed oil
- 6 carrots chopped into coins
- 1-2 tbl harissa paste (personal taste dependent)
- 2-4 cups of vegetable stock
- Peel tomatoes from their skins. This may be achieved by introducing them into a boiling pot of water for no longer than a minute and transferring them to icy water. The skins will slide right off.
- Split leeks lengthwise and be sure to clean them from any residual silt or dirt.
- Brush tomatoes and leeks lightly with olive oil, salt, pepper. Roast on a large sheet pan at 400 degrees for thirty minutes.
- Post roasting, heat grapeseed oil in large, heavy bottomed pot on stove. Add carrot and stir to coat. Cook carrots five minutes on medium high until only beginning to soften. Add harissa paste and heat until fragrant and evenly coated on carrots.
- Chop leeks and with roasted tomatoes add to carrots in the soup pot. Start by adding two cups of vegetable stock. Bring soup to boil and reduce to a simmer until carrots are readily tender, about thirty minutes. During this time if the soup begins to thicken on you add more vegetable stock.
- Working in batches if necessary, blend soup using desired method until smooth.
- Garnish soup with caraway seeds, pine nuts, dried tomato, cream.
I love what you said about harvesting your own tomatoes. It is amazing how tasteless the hot house, conventionally grown tomatoes, we find in the grocery store can be. Yuck! This soup looks delicious. I love the addition of the caraway (cumin) seeds. Enjoy your Sunday (although yours is just ending now, right?)
Thank you so much Kathryn – and yes, the difference is truly night and day. Nothing quite beats a garden sun-warmed tomato, even perhaps enjoyed as an apple often is. The taste is incomparable to anything else of this world. Happy week (now) to you.
How I love that our conversations are turning to soup, this comforting and warming this that I would have almost every day! This tomato soup looks so delicious and is indeed great way to celebrate this transitional period, the equinox and the new season. <3
Thank you so very much Ana! I love this time of year because soup truly is conversational. Not only do we talk about it constantly, I feel like it really brings people together. Happy autumn to you! ♥