Green Tomatoes: Not Fried

As green tomato season encroaches upon us (and yes, I know what you're thinking about red tomato season), it seemed wise to exhume this page from my newspaper clippings drawer. Since the half-life of marmalade in our refrigerator is measured in milliseconds, I determined there was sufficient justification for the small effort required by this unassuming recipe.

Occasional readers of this blog may have noticed that I tend only to publish recipes concocted by myself or my trusted band of culinary cohorts. So this is the first incident of outright theft. It is my fondest wish that the New York Times will view it as a nod of respect rather than a provocation to file a suit in accordance with the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, of which I remain completely ignorant.

Since I had only 3 green tomatoes in my fridge, I reduced the overall quantity to about 3/5ths, though my downward adjustment of the sugar to a mere 2 cups could have been downwardly adjusted even more without deleterious effects. I upped the quantity of lemon juice by an unknown amount, measured only by intermittent tasting, until the acidity seemed in balance.

In the end, the result was about a pint of syrupy marmalade, which I jarred into 2 separate 8-ounce containers, keeping one and gifting the other.

If I were to make it again, I might decide to tilt it toward the chutney end of the preserve-confiture spectrum, with the addition of pistachio halves and perhaps even some hot chilies. The present result proved to be quite delicious on peanut butter and toast, and the reader who comes to the table with an open mind is certain to discover other delectable combinations for this humble receipt.

clipped from www.nytimes.com

Recipe: Green Tomato and Lemon Marmalade

Published: August 22, 2007

1 lemon, thinly sliced and seeded

2 1/4 pounds green tomatoes (about 5 large tomatoes), cored and thinly sliced

3 1/4cups sugar

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

Pinch of salt.

1. Bring lemon slices to a boil in a pot of water. Drain.

2. Combine all ingredients in a saucepan along with 1/4 cup water, and bring to a simmer, stirring, to dissolve sugar. Cook at a bare simmer until tomatoes and lemon slices are translucent and syrup thickens, 20 to 30 minutes. Cool completely; store in refrigerator.

Yield: 1 3/4 cups.

My Solution to the Salsa Verde Equation

OK- better late than never. Probably you've used your tomatillos. I think I have a jalapeño or two left, but should you ever come to possess these in concert again, whether willingly or not, here is what I chose to do with mine. I am giving this recipe a name that befits a highly focus-grouped jarred salsa that you might find at grocery stores, but in this example, you make it yourself.

Fire-roasted Salsa Verde

Ingredients:

• cup your hands together and fill them with tomatillos
• repeat above with jalapeños
• 1-2 large cloves of garlic, well-smooshed (press or mortar and pestle)
• extra-virgin olive oil. extra extra is fine as well.
• salt

Preparation:

The 'fire-roasted' part alludes to the barbecue, which should be readied before you proceed to the vegetable prep.

• Remove paper from tomatillos, place on skewers
• Place jalapeños on skewers

You will probably want to use separate skewers for the tomatillos and jalapeños, since they could, conceivably, be finished cooking at different times.

Place skewers over a medium hot flame and roast until the veggies blister and char slightly. Remove before they turn to cinders and allow to cool.

Toss the tomatillos into a food processor or blender. Slice the jalapeños in half and remove the pith and seeds. These can be used to modulate the heat of the salsa, so get a feel for how much zing there is and factor-in your target level of mouth-burn. Adjust accordingly and add to food processor. Add garlic and about a tablespoon of olive oil.

Whir until well-whirred. Season with salt, to taste. Apply liberally to meat, fish, chicken, or vegetables.