Eating with the seasons

About a million years ago, when I was studying for my Natural Healing certificate, part of the required reading was a book called "Staying healthy with the seasons". It advocated eating fruits and veggies that were "in season" as opposed to tomatoes in January and apples in June.

At the time, we were living in a one bedroom apartment in Nutley and my husband was just getting into gardening. He had his first 'garden'  in a red wheelbarrow on our tiny porch. You'd be surprised how much he had managed to get out of that "garden".

When I bit into our first tomato, I was flooded with the memories of my childhood in Israel. Of grapes that were big and juicy and sweet from the sun. And only came to the market in August. Of apricots, small but potent, with flesh that melts like honey in your mouth, and that you could only have around June and that were, therefore, all the more treasured. After all, if you can have something any old time you feel like it, you don't need to crave it. You don't wax poetic about it in the months when it is not available. Your mouth does not water when you remember the flavor. You don't wait impatiently for the first of its kind to show up in the neighborhood's market. You don't eat the last of it with sweet sorrow, knowing it will be a whole year before you'll taste it again.

There is a special b'racha to be said upon eating a fruit for the first time that year (or ever). Some people actually delay eating certain fruits so that they will be able to say this b'racha when they eat it for the first time on Rosh Hashana. That b'racha is, of course, "Shehecheyanu". I say it every summer, when my loving hubby comes rushing in from the garden (which has long ago outgrown the wheelbarrow), with the first fig, grape, tomato or pepper of the summer. (Well, if I wait with it until Rosh Hashana, I would have to say it over a store bought fruit and it is simply not the same). It always amazes me anew how very apt this b'racha is for this particular activity. When you bite into a home grown tomato, deep red in color, bursting with juice and flavor, warmed by the bright sunny days of summer, you understand why it is called a 'fruit' and you understand why it is so worth waiting for that there is a need to thank G-d for letting us live long enough to have that sublime experience.

But when you buy a tomato in the supermarket in February, you can be sure it will taste like snow. And that it has probably traveled half the world to arrive at your table. And you know how you are after a long flight so you can imagine how the tomato feels.

Still, there are times when you are faced with winter tomatoes (because your husband went to his secret warehouse of fresh produce and brought back a whole crate of them). You know the ones I'm talking about. Pink, mealy orbs that never really ripen into your memory of one of summer's luscious treats. And here they are, taking up space in the kitchen. They are barely edible in salads and too hard and dry to cook into sauce.

This calls for drastic measures.

Summer-ized winter tomatoes

4 large, hard, pinkish tomatoes (I suppose this will work well with ripe ones but this is what I had on hand)

3-4 Tbs extra virgin olive oil

2 garlic cloves, minced

1/2 tsp Italian seasoning

1/4 tsp kosher salt

pinch black pepper

1 tsp sugar

Sugar is the secret weapon. Tomatoes would have sugar naturally if allowed to sunbathe. But winter tomatoes never see the sun so we need to supply the sugar.

Slice tomatoes into 1/2 inch thick slices. Arrange in one layer on a well oiled shallow baking pan.

Sprinkle with very little sugar (one tiny pinch per slice). Mix the rest of the ingredients. Brush tomato slices generously with oil mix. Bake at 400 degrees for about 35-40 minutes or until tomatoes are very soft and some start to brown at the edges. 

This is very good with grilled chicken or beef. It's wonderful with a sprinkle of cheese (feta, Parmesan or cheddar) and it is awesome all by itself as a light meal with some crusty bread.

On the whole, though, I do urge you to consider eating produce at the right season. It's tastier, cheaper, better for the environment and better for you both physically (produce that is eaten in its natural growing season will provide the body with more of what you eat it for than produce that had to fly in from Timbuktu) and spiritually (when you eat according to G-d's plan, you become part of it). Good things come to those who wait.