Skip to main content

Eating Out of Season

I know it's the cool thing to eat within the seasons—asparagus in the spring, strawberries in early summer and corn a little later and tomatoes when they are fresh off the vine—and if you can buy all of these things grown by local farmers, all the better. It's a nice idea, and I try to stick with it because, after all, what's worse than eating a crunchy, bitter strawberry picked way too early and shipped thousands of miles in February? And tomatoes are best in the summer. It's just a fact.

But sometimes I ignore the rules and eat what I want when I want it. This recipe inspired me to make a tomato salad the other day, using grapes tomatoes grown in a greenhouse in Mexico. I don't know when they were picked or how they were shipped to the middle of Ohio. I only know that I bought a pint and put the things in my salad, and it was all worth the trouble.

This is called Bloody Mary Tomato Salad, but there's no vodka in it. Not a drop. I used Champagne vinegar in place of the sherry, but that doesn't give it a vodka bite. Enjoy, in or out of season.

1 cup finely chopped red onion
3 tablespoons sherry vinegar, divided
2 lb. cherry or grape tomatoes, halved
1 cup chopped celery hearts
1/2 cup chopped brined green olives
2 tablespoons prepared horseradish
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon hot pepper sauce
1/2 teaspoon celery seeds
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
salt and pepper

Mix onion and 1 tablespoon vinegar in a large bowl. Let macerate 10 minutes, tossing often. Add tomatoes, celery and olives.

Whisk remaining vinegar, horseradish and next three ingredients in a medium bowl. Slowly whisk in the oil. Add to bowl with tomato mixture, toss to coat and season with salt and pepper.

(photo by Luc Viatour)

Comments

dive said…
Yum! How very Summery, Robyn.
Be thankful you're thousands of miles out of spanking range for your decidedly un-Green shopping!
4:07 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

No More Mr. Nice Guy

It's good to be a nice person--to say nice things, to do nice things, to write nice things--but I declare an end to the use of the word nice. Nice is what you say when you can't think of any other adjective. Someone shows you a picture of their back yard--that's nice. Someone tells you about their afternoon adventure--that's nice. Or someone describes their childhood in great detail and sometimes with painstaking effort--that's nice. It's a lazy word, and it's non-descriptive. Nice is like mashed potatoes with noodles and chicken gravy all in a big pile on one plate with some canned corn for garnish. Everything is the same color and texture and base substance--starch (this is a favorite Amish dish). Nice is like a partly cloudy day in April when outside feels like inside, and you can't tell a difference between the lighting and the temperature of your living room and the lighting and temperature of your front yard. Nice is a glass of lukewarm water. ...
20 comments
Read more

An Offending Pile

So, I'm standing in my living room letting my mind wander for a minute or two as I stare out the window and watch the day go by, and I see my neighbors walking their dogs down the street. They are nice neighbors who are always friendly and responsible with their property. That is to say they aren't like the other neighbors who heap rubbish behind their house like Ma and Pa Kettle and let their dogs bark for thirty minutes at a time . Anyway, I see the nice people walking their dogs, a big golden retriever who is as sweet as can be and as dumb as a post—he once ate a sock and nearly died before it was surgically removed—and a new golden retriever puppy. Then I see Neighbor Wife suddenly run down the street with the big dog. Then I see Neighbor Husband stopped in front of my house with the puppy on its leash. And then I see the puppy taking a huge dump in my grass. Let me tell you, that is not done in this town unless the dog owner has a plastic bag handy and is ready to pick up ...
16 comments
Read more

Am I Stupid, or What?

In two weeks, I will climb up into a charter bus, take my assigned seat, and ride 22 hours straight to Orlando, Florida. I will be a chaperon with the high school marching band, which will perform at Disney's Magic Kingdom--me and 180 people on four big buses for seven days. We will travel together, eat together, play together, fall down exhausted together--and after 22 hours, I suspect stink to high heaven together. Because of the crazy schedule, we will leave Ohio at 6 pm, travel all night and most of the next day, and spend several hours at MGM Studios before ending up at the hotel sometime after 7 pm. After I check in with the eight girls I am to supervise, I intend to shower and shower and shower. I intend to wear clean clothes and socks and brush my teeth until my toothbrush wears out. Of all the things I could be concerned about on this trip, being dirty seems to weigh heaviest on my mind. One of my eight charges could run off and do bad things with her boyfriend, but I'...
21 comments
Read more