Get 'em while you can...
Before tomatoes are gone for the season, do yourself a favor (you'll thank yourself in a few months when you are longing for that delicious tangy-sweet tomato flavor and all you can find in the stores are red globe-shaped styrofoam replicas masquerading as tomatoes) and buy a big huge bag of fresh ripe tomatoes. Make a pot of tomato sauce, a relaxing Sunday afternoon activity, which you can then freeze and use in hearty winter pasta dishes when you'd rather be curled up at home than out in the freezing rain.

This is the kind of sauce that you almost don't need a recipe to make. It's versatile, flexible, and very forgiving. What you add to it is largely a matter of taste. In fact, I don't think I've ever made the same sauce twice. But I do use the following recipe as a starting point. What ends up in the sauce largely depends on what is in my fridge or pantry at the time, whether it's the simple basic all-purpose sauce here or includes such embellishments as roasted red bell pepper; fresh oregano, thyme or basil; dried red chile flakes, minced garlic, roasted garlic, mushrooms, or zucchini.

You can also use virtually any kind of tomato--heirlooms, beefsteaks, plum tomatoes, or whatever type you can get your hands on. So make your way to the nearest farmers' market, or beg your co-worker for the rest of his tomatoes that he's always handing out in the office, and get that sauce made before delicious fresh ripe summer tomatoes are gone for another year.

Fresh Tomato Sauce

About 40 ripe medium tomatoes
1 large yellow onion
1 or 2 medium carrots
2 or 3 stalks celery
Olive oil
Salt and freshly ground pepper
Red wine

To blanch and peel the tomatoes, fill a large stockpot 2/3 full of water and bring it to a boil over high heat. Cut a small "x" in the bottom of each tomato. Carefully add about a third of the tomatoes to the boiling water, let simmer for about 20 seconds, then remove with a slotted spoon and set aside.

Blanch the remaining tomatoes in this way.
Peel the tomatoes, discarding the skins, then cut in half crosswise and squeeze out the seeds. Roughly chop the tomatoes and set aside.

Dice the onion, carrots, and celery.

In a large stockpot over medium-high heat, warm a few tablespoons of olive oil. Add the onions and saute until they begin to turn translucent, about 3 minutes. Add the carrots and celery and about 2 teaspoons salt and some pepper. Saute until tender and the onions start to brown, about 5 minutes. Add the tomatoes, a few glugs of wine, reduce the heat to low, and partially cover the pot.

Let simmer until tender and saucy, about 1 1/2 to 2 hours. Add salt and pepper to taste. At this point you can leave the sauce chunky...

...or you can puree it with an immersion blender (which is the way I like it).

To store the sauce, let it cool completely, then divide it between freezer bags or other storage containers and freeze.

It's been over two years since I first posted here on BAB about the trials and tribulations of making pizza at home and yet not much has changed in my pizza world. I'm still the obnoxiously opinionated, obsessive pizza lover that I've always been, rarely without some kind of criticism. My standards are high, I know exactly what I like and don't like, and I'm quick to pass judgment.

But all that being said, I am still well aware of the fact that despite being a former professional baker and an avid cook, I have yet to replicate my perfect pizza at home. I know that I will never achieve greatness in a home oven, unable to make my oven soar to a blistering 900F, but I'd still like to get as close as I can to a delicious home-baked pizza. I've had lots of advice too, from baking it on a grill to turning on the broiler before baking. But I still feel that before I really start to experiment with the heat (beyond cranking my oven to the max at 500F and letting my pizza stone absorb all that heat for at least 30-60 minutes before I slide my hard-earned pizza in) I need to find a good crust recipe.

I've already got a great sauce recipe (the secret is 6-in-1 tomatoes, seriously), but the dough has alluded me for, well, my whole life. I've tried many different recipes, from Reinhardt's to the one on the side of the Italian '00' flour package to zillions of others, but I'm just never that impressed. Maybe it's me (I do have a terrible knack for being unable to follow a recipe because I always think I know better) or maybe it's just that I haven't found the perfect balance of ingredients.

All that being said, I decided to try the pizza dough recipe in The New Best Recipe, the cookbook from Cook's Illustrated. I've been using this cookbook for over a year now, and I have to say that nearly everything I've made from it has turned out, not only delicious, but one of the best examples of what I was making.

What I learned from my latest pizza experiment:
1) Bread flour is better than all-purpose or '00' flour. It helps keep the crust crisp and still chewy and moist.
2) A food processor works well for mixing a yeast dough (I've been using it for years for my pastry crust, but never for a yeasted dough. Proved me wrong).
3) Following a recipe won't hurt me.
4) My oven gets hotter than 500F. I think it maxed out at about 575F. A hot oven is critical to making a nice bubbly crisp crust. I even tried the broiler trick at the end that extramsg once advised, and it works great.

Sausage and Mushroom Pizza
*dough recipe adapted from The New Best Recipe (Cook's Illustrated)

For the dough
1/2 cup warm water (about 105F-100F)
1 envelope active dry or instant yeast
1 1/4 cups water, at room temperature
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus extra for oiling the bowl
4 cups bread flour, plus more for dusting the work surface
1 1/2 teaspoons salt

For the pizza topping
1/2 lb sweet Italian sausage
About 6 cremini mushrooms, sliced
About 1 1/2 cups prepared tomato sauce
1 lb fresh mozzarella, thinly sliced
About 6 fresh basil leaves, cut into thin slivers (except you will notice I forgot to get it at the store so it's not on my pizza, but I recommend it)

Makes about three 12-inch pizzas

To make the dough, in a bowl or measuring cup, sprinkle the yeast over the warm water and let stand until the yeast dissolves, about 5 minutes. Add the room temperature water and the oil and stir to combine.

I used a food processor, but you can also use a stand mixer or just a bowl and wooden spoon. If using the processor (which Cook's Illustrated recommends and frankly worked great for me) process the flour and salt together. With the motor running add the water and yeast mixture and process until the mixture comes together and forms a ball.

Turn out onto a lightly floured work surface and knead a few times to form a smooth round ball.

Put the dough into an oiled bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let stand in a warm place for about 2 hours, until the dough doubles in size.

Meanwhile, in a frying pan, cook the sausage meat until browned. Remove to a bowl and set aside. Drain all but 1 tablespoon fat from the pan and add the mushrooms. Saute until just cooked and add to the sausage.

Position a rack in the lower third of your oven. Line the rack with unglazed ceramic tiles or put a pizza stone on the rack and preheat your oven to 500F for at least 30 minutes (this is important, the tiles or stone need time to get really hot and absorb all that heat; it's what will help make your crust crisper and chewier, like a professional pizza oven).

Divide the dough into 3 equal balls. Set two balls aside and cover with a damp kitchen towel. On a lightly floured work surface, flatten the ball into a disk and use your fingers to press it out until it's about 1/2-inch thick. Gently stretch the dough, rotating it as you stretch, until it's about 12-inches in diameter.

Lightly dust a pizza peel with semolina, cornmeal or flour. Place the dough round on the peel. Lightly brush the dough with olive oil.

Spread about 1/2 cup tomato sauce evenly on the dough, leaving a 1/2-inch border. Sprinkle about 1/3 of the sausage and mushroom mixture evenly over the top of the dough. Place about 1/3 of the mozzarella slices on top of the sausage.

Slide the pizza onto the hot pizza stone (or tiles). Bake for about 7 minutes or until the dough is golden brown and the toppings are sizzling. Eat!

Epilogue:
Mmmmmmmmmm. This pizza exceeded my expectations. It was crisp yet still moist and slightly chewy. A little thicker than I tend to like, but full of nice big bubbles. It browned nicely, just in time for the cheese to melt and get a few nice brown spots. It maybe needed a touch more salt, and would probably have been better if I'd let it rise overnight in the refrigerator (which gives it more flavor). But definitely one of the best pizzas I've made in a very long time.

It's that time of year again, the days start to get shorter, the sun no longer wakes me up before my alarm clock (now I actually have to start setting my alarm clock), and I must begin to convince myself that summer is on the way out. In fact, there is a distinct chill in the air, if only to remind me. Sigh. The weather is still nice. But the nice man at Frog Hollow told me we'd be lucky to have even another week of peaches (as I quickly add more to my shopping bag). I can't even find corn anymore. Cherries are sooooo last season. Strawberries are few and far between and I've heard they are not long for these parts. And tomatoes. Oh tomatoes. They are still here, and delicious as ever, but I know my time with them is limited. I am buying them almost on a daily basis now. They are part of nearly every meal I prepare.

But even though I am lamenting summer's dwindling bounty, a whole new crop of food is peaking and autumn treats are appearing. One of my favorites has appeared recently, my late-summer love The Cranberry Bean.

Those of us who know them tend to horde them. I see the occasional stuffed plastic bag with the tell-tale mottled pinky-red pods, firmly grasped in hand. Standing at the bin, I load up my bag as full as possible (knowing full well I'm going to have to lug it on Muni all the way home). But cranberry beans have such a limited season, it's worth it to buy all that you can. They are not only the most brilliant delicious creamy wonderful fresh legume on the planet (in my oh-so-humble opinion) but they freeze extremely well.

I really shouldn't be telling you all of this.

But really they are so good that you should know about them. Creamy, plump, and full of fresh bean flavor.

And there are all kinds of ways to use them: simply boiled and dressed as Cucina Testa Rossa describes in her previous post from last September, tossed with pasta, drizzled with vinaigrette in a salad, or my hands-down favorite, a big steaming bowl of Pasta e Fagioli. This hearty bean, pasta, and vegetable soup is the perfect antidote to a rainy end-of-summer night. It almost makes you happy that winter is right around the corner.

Pasta e Fagioli

2 slices thick-cut smoked bacon (like applewood smoked) or pancetta, chopped
Olive oil
1 yellow onion, diced
2 carrots, peeled and diced
2 stalks celery, diced
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 cup diced fresh tomatoes, peeled and seeded or 1 (regular size) can finely chopped tomatoes
About 4-6 cups chicken broth, preferably homemade
About 1 1/2 cups fresh cranberry beans, removed from pods (this equals approximately 1 lb unshelled beans in their pod)
Parmesan rind (Note: if you buy a chunk of fresh Parmesan, just cut off the rind and throw it into the soup while it's cooking)
About 1 cup small soup pasta, like ditalini or macaroni

To garnish
Fresh chopped basil
Grated Parmesan cheese

Cook the bacon in a stock pot until crisp, then remove to a plate and set aside. You can pour out the grease, but leave at least 1-2 tablespoons. Add olive oil if needed, then saute the onions, carrots, and celery until just tender. Season with salt and pepper. Add the tomatoes, broth, cranberry beans, and the Parmesan rind, if using. Simmer until the beans are tender, about an hour (give or take, it really depends on the freshness of your beans; start tasting them after about 45 minutes; you want them creamy but not mushy) . Add the pasta and cook just until al dente, about 7 minutes. Add the reserved bacon back to the soup. Serve with grated Parmesan and fresh basil.

I recently got married (and changed my name from Kim Goodfriend to Kim Laidlaw, in the off chance that there was any confusion) and my new mother-in-law and her partner, who I've only met on one other occasion, came to visit us...all the way from Edinburgh, Scotland.

Now, I adore my mother-in-law, but I was a little intimidated when she announced that she only likes to eat Italian and "normal" food. What would I ever find to prepare for her? How could I possibly wow her with my culinary prowess? What if I made something she hated? Was my imagination going off the deep end?

The solution came with a trip to the SF Ferry Plaza Farmers' Market on the first Saturday of their stay. We arrived early and made an initial pass through the crowd, just to get our bearings. She was enthralled with all the fruits and vegetables and foodstuffs she'd never seen before. We left the guys on a bench near the bay and went off on our second pass, sniffing this, trying that, and all the while, I kept asking her what she liked or disliked. In this way, I managed to cobble together my first dinner for my new mother-in-law.

First stop--and a pretty safe bet--was Shogun Fish, who display their freshly caught salmon and halibut every Saturday. We chose two thick gorgeous, incredibly fresh, deeply red, wild salmon fillets. I mean, who doesn't love salmon?*

*Note: Um, actually I don't. In fact, I rarely like salmon. I particularly loathe farm-raised salmon which I find flavorless. However, when it's fresh it can be absolutely delicious. And I've become quite a fan of smoked salmon in recent years. Which is a good thing, because my husband and his entire family are Scottish. And they love smoked salmon. It's like a national dish. Second only to fried things. And maybe haggis. Oh, wait, and whisky. Yes, whisky is a food group. But I digress...

We also gathered just-dug-up fingerling potatoes, fragrant heirloom tomatoes, wild arugula (aka rocket as it is called in the UK), crunchy lemon cucumbers, figs, and a decadent array of cupcakes from Miette.

Dinner was a raving, smashing success (can you hear the musical crescendo in the background?). We started with sliced figs topped with triple-cream cheese, basil, and aged balsamic. The main event included grilled salmon simply dressed in fresh oregano, olive oil, salt and pepper, along with roasted fingerling potatoes and a salad of cucumbers, tomatoes, and arugula. All of it was washed down with a gorgeous bottle of Navarro Edelzwicker.

Unfortunately, in my fumbling, nervous, slightly overwhelmed culinary haze, I never managed to get out the camera to capture said delicious amazing dinner. But, we were left with a good chunk of leftover salmon, given that I have a knack for over-purchasing. Which brings me to my very own mother (I think I'm establishing a theme here)...

One of my childhood faves, and one of my mom's specialties, is salmon croquettes. Yeah, I know I already blasted salmon. But this is Fried Salmon. In cakes. With sauce. And it truly is, in my opinion, one of the best ways to use up your leftover salmon.

Salmon Croquettes

1 1/2 cups cooked salmon
1 egg, separated
1 handful saltines or water crackers, crushed to bits
1 tablespoon aioli or mayo
Oil for frying

Make sure that the salmon is free of any bones or skin, then put it in a large bowl, breaking it up into large flakes with your fingers. Add the egg yolk, cracker bits, aioli and salt and pepper to taste, then gently stir together to combine. In a separate bowl, whip the egg white to medium peaks (don't overwhip!). Fold the egg white into the salmon mixture. Gently form the salmon mixture into patties, about 2 inches in diameter.

In a large frying pan, heat about 1/4 cup of oil over medium-high heat. Carefully add the salmon cakes and fry, turning once, until crisp and golden on both sides, about 8 minutes total. Remove to a paper-towel lined plate to drain, then serve with the aioli.

Sort-of Aioli

1 egg yolk
1/2 teaspoon Dijon mustard
3/4 cup light olive oil or a mixture of olive oil and canola oil
Juice of 1/2 lemon

Note: This is not garlic aioli which is why I call it sort of aioli because in some strict foodcamps that is the only aioli there is. However, I don't really happen to like garlic (with a few specific exceptions) so if you want to add it, go right ahead.

In a medium mixing bowl, whisk together the egg yolk and mustard. Add a pinch of salt. Slowly add the oil, very slowly, a dribble at a time, while whisking. Make sure that all of the oil is incorporated into the yolk before adding more. The mixture will continue to thicken the more oil you add. If it gets too thick, add a bit of the lemon juice. As you get near the end, you will find you can add the oil a bit more quickly. Once you have added all of the oil, whisk in the lemon juice. Season to taste with salt and pepper and serve alongside the salmon cakes.