Slow Cooker Tomato and Tortellini Soup

The tomatoes have gone berserk. That's the only word for it. The Brandywines are cracking in the afternoon heat and the Romas are coming in by the basketful and the cherry tomatoes are reproducing at a rate that suggests they've formed an alliance with the zucchini to bury us in produce. Helen and I have been canning every other day — another twelve jars of sauce, six of diced tomatoes, four of salsa. The pantry shelf is filling up. Winter doesn't stand a chance.

I made BLTs for lunch on Thursday. This is not a recipe. This is a sandwich. But I will die on this hill: a BLT made with a garden tomato in August is a completely different food than a BLT made with a supermarket tomato in February. The February version is a lie. The August version is truth between two slices of bread. Good bacon — thick-cut, from the butcher on Pine Street — crisp but not burnt. Lettuce from the garden. Tomato sliced thick, still warm from the sun if you can manage it. Mayonnaise. Toast. That's the whole thing. You don't improve on it. You just eat it and be grateful that you're alive in August and the garden is producing.

Sarah called to say she and Tom might try for a second baby. She said it casually, the way you'd mention you were thinking about painting the living room. I said, "That's wonderful." Helen, who was listening from the kitchen, made the sound she makes when she's trying not to interfere, which is the sound of a woman not interfering at absolute maximum volume. Helen wants more grandchildren. I want Helen to have what she wants. The math works out.

The blog is settling into a rhythm. A post every week or so, mostly recipes, mostly simple. I'm finding that people want the simple ones. The baked beans, the chowder, the boiled dinner. Nobody's writing in to ask for seared duck with cherry reduction. They want to know how their grandmother made the thing their grandmother made. They want to cook the way people cooked before cooking became a competition. I understand that. I live that. My kitchen has never been a stage. It's a room where food happens. That's enough.

Frost caught a chipmunk today. Caught it, held it in his mouth, looked confused about what to do next, and let it go. The chipmunk ran up the nearest maple. Frost sat at the base of the tree for two hours, waiting for a rematch. The chipmunk did not oblige. Some victories are temporary.

More tomatoes tomorrow. More canning. More August. We persist.

All that August canning—tomatoes by the bushel, jars lined up on every surface—means the freezer and pantry are full of summer even when summer is long gone. This soup is what I made with the overflow: simple, slow, the kind of thing you set up in the morning and forget about until the kitchen smells like something worth coming home to. No competition, no performance. Just tomatoes doing what tomatoes do.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 6–8 hours on low (or 3–4 hours on high) | Total Time: Up to 8 hours 10 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 cans (14.5 oz each) diced tomatoes, with juices (or 3 1/2 cups home-canned diced tomatoes)
1 can (28 oz) crushed tomatoes
4 cups low-sodium chicken or vegetable broth
1 medium yellow onion, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon dried basil
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 teaspoon sugar (balances acidity; omit if your tomatoes are sweet)
9–10 oz refrigerated cheese tortellini
3 oz cream cheese, cut into cubes
1/4 cup fresh basil or flat-leaf parsley, roughly chopped, for serving
Grated Parmesan, for serving

Instructions

Load the slow cooker. Add the diced tomatoes, crushed tomatoes, broth, onion, garlic, dried basil, oregano, red pepper flakes, salt, pepper, and sugar to a 5- or 6-quart slow cooker. Stir to combine.
Cook low and slow. Cover and cook on low for 6–8 hours or on high for 3–4 hours. The onion should be completely soft and the flavors well melded.
Add the cream cheese. Drop the cream cheese cubes into the hot soup. Use an immersion blender to partially blend—enough to make it creamy but still chunky—or simply whisk vigorously until the cream cheese fully incorporates. Taste and adjust salt and pepper.
Add the tortellini. Stir in the tortellini, cover, and cook on high for an additional 15–20 minutes, until the pasta is tender. Do not overcook or the tortellini will turn mushy.
Serve. Ladle into bowls and top with fresh basil or parsley and a generous handful of Parmesan. Good bread alongside is not optional.

Nutrition (per serving)

Slow Cooker Tomato and Tortellini Soup — What All Those Canned Tomatoes Are For