Stewed Tomatoes — What a Hundred Weeks of Trying Gets You

Week one hundred since this blog started. I want to acknowledge that. March 28, 2016 to here, which is late July 2018, which is about two years and four months, which is also: Kai from three years old to five, Luna from newborn to two, Danny at fifty to fifty-three, Caleb from before the arrest to ten months sober, me from twenty-eight to thirty-one. The years inside the years.

What I have cooked in one hundred weeks: venison in every form I know how. Kanuchi, from first attempt to correct. Sofkee, from first attempt to good. Bean bread, dozens of times, so many times it is a reflex. Tamales at Christmas, because Rosa taught me. Wild onion eggs in spring, because the land offers them and my family gathers them. Fry bread because Danny asks for it and the asking is also love.

I made a kanuchi this week — just for the week, for dinner Tuesday and Thursday, and I made it the way I have been making it since the elder said correct a year ago. I did not think about it while I made it. I just made it. That is what a hundred weeks of trying gets you: the thing you are trying to make becomes something you just make, and the trying disappears into the doing, and the doing becomes part of who you are. That is all any of this has ever been trying to say.

The garden is at peak. The Cherokee Purples are coming off the vine faster than we can eat them, which is the best possible problem. Luna has learned that tomatoes go from green to red and she checks them every morning and reports to me: this one is ready, this one needs more time, this one fell. She is two and she is running quality control on a Cherokee heirloom tomato harvest. I am doing the right things. I can tell because my daughter knows when a tomato is ready.

With the Cherokee Purples coming off the vine faster than we can eat them and Luna reporting every morning on which ones are ready, I needed something that would honor the harvest without fussing over it. Stewed tomatoes are that kind of recipe — the tomatoes do most of the work because they’ve already done most of the growing. It’s the garden version of what kanuchi taught me: do the thing enough times and the doing disappears into something that’s just yours.

Stewed Tomatoes

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

• 3 pounds Cherokee Purple tomatoes (or other ripe garden tomatoes), cored and cut into wedges
• 1 medium yellow onion, diced
• 2 stalks celery, diced
• 1 green bell pepper, diced
• 2 tablespoons butter
• 1 tablespoon sugar
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/4 teaspoon celery seed
• 2 slices day-old bread, torn into small pieces

Instructions

1. Blanch and peel. Score the bottom of each tomato with a shallow X. Drop them into boiling water for 30 seconds, then transfer to an ice bath. Slip off the skins and cut into wedges.
2. Cook the vegetables. Melt the butter in a large heavy-bottomed pot over medium heat. Add the onion, celery, and bell pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 5 minutes.
3. Add the tomatoes. Add the tomato wedges, sugar, salt, pepper, and celery seed. Stir to combine and bring to a gentle simmer.
4. Stew low and slow. Reduce heat to medium-low and cook uncovered for 20 to 25 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the tomatoes have broken down and the liquid has reduced slightly.
5. Thicken. Stir in the torn bread pieces and cook for 3 to 5 minutes more, until the bread absorbs some of the liquid and the stew reaches your preferred consistency.
6. Serve. Taste and adjust seasoning. Serve warm as a side dish or spoon over rice.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 120 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 5g | Carbs: 18g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 450mg