On Sunday the Coalition of Immokalee Workers (CIW); participants of the Community Food Security Coalition's Food Justice conference and Bay Area community allies marched in Oakland for farmworker justice. The destination was Trader Joe's where the group planned to deliver a letter, calling on the company to support human rights for farmworkers, specifically the workers who harvest tomatoes sold in their stores. The CIW's Campaign for Fair Food has gotten commitments from other food industry corporations (including Taco Bell, McDonald's, Subway, Bon Appétit Management Co. and Whole Foods) to provide a penny-per-pound increase to raise wages for tomato harvesters and to use suppliers that abide by a strict code of conduct for farmworkers. Trader Joe's has been repeatedly called on to support these efforts but has not been willing to sign an agreement with CIW. TJ's made a statement regarding the issue on 10/21/11 (posted on website 10/23/11) and CIW responded. CIW basically claims that TJ's solutions are not verifiable and lack accountability. Since the public image of Trader Joe's relies on being politically correct and it ranks as a top ethical company the marchers' messaging calls into question the company's lack of transparency and potential hypocrisy: "Traitor Joe's - a wolf in sheep's clothing?"

Lucas Benitez from the Coalition of Immokalee Workers addresses the participants at the beginning of the march

The marchers did not obtain a permit so they peacefully marched along the sidewalk for two miles from the Marriott in downtown Oakland where the Food Justice conference was being held, past the Occupy Oakland encampment, along Lake Merritt and concluding the march at the Lakeshore Avenue Trader Joe's. One of the consistent chants reflected the influence of the Occupy movement: "Trader Joe's owners are the one percent, one penny more won't even make a dent."

Once the marchers arrived at Trader Joe's, Lucas Benitez went inside the store with others to present the management with the letter and explain their intent.

Lucas Benitez presents letter to Greg, a Trader Joe Captain at Trader Joe's on Lakeshore Ave. in Oakland

Meanwhile, the marchers chanted in front of the store.

It will be interesting to see how Trader Joe's responds to the continued efforts of the Coalition of Immokalee Workers.

Here are some more photos from the march. (slideshow mobile version)

Related Posts and Videos:
• Inside the secret world of Trader Joe's - Full Version (8/23/10, by Beth Kowitt, CNN Money - FORTUNE)
• Why is Trader Joe’s short-changing farmworker justice? (2/15/11, by Sean Sellers, Grist)
• Coalition of Immokalee Workers YouTube Channel
• Protest Questions Human Cost of Trader Joe’s Cheap Tomatoes (8/11/10, by Bonnie Rosenstock & Scott Stiffler, Chelsea Now)
• After Long Fight, Farmworkers in Florida Win an Increase in Pay (1/18/11, by Kristofer Rios, NYTimes)
• Politics of the Plate: The Price of Tomatoes (3/09, Barry Estabrook, Gourmet)
• Tomatoland: How Modern Industrial Agriculture Destroyed Our Most Alluring Fruit (Published 6/7/11, Barry Estabrook)

Last chance for tomatoes! Now's the time to get your final fill of summer's bounty, time to buy a bagful and stock the pantry for the long days of kale and pumpkin ahead. Mariquita Farms' Ladybug Buying Club will be in residence at Camino on Thursday Oct. 6, from 5-7pm, if you want to split a flat with a pal or two. For canning, the best tomatoes aren't the huge splashy heirlooms but the more modest Romas or Early Girls, short on size but dense with punchy flavor and sweetness.

Having participated in a massive can-a-thon of Roma tomatoes last year, I must say I'd rather spend such kitchen time pumping out a product with a few more frills. (For preserving straight-up peeled tomatoes, a vacuum sealer and plenty of freezer space are much more efficient.) Frills like barbecue sauce, or ketchup, especially this well-spiced, un-corn syruped, oven-roasted version, as good on a steak as a burger, on French fries or scrambled eggs. I put this out at a recent brunch between the home fries and the salmon eggs Benedict, and the bowl came back scraped clean.

Yes, it takes a long time, but the actual hands-on time is short. Some chopping, a little spice-toasting, the occasional stir, and all the rest is simply unattended oven time. A thick puree like this one can scorch and splatter when you try to cook it down, however slowly, on the top of the stove. Here, a slow roast concentrates the tomatoes without carbonizing them, while a final, brief stovetop cooking melds the flavors.

You could up the amount of vinegar, sugar, onions, and heat, add some molasses, and make into something more like barbecue sauce, even replacing the tomatoes with late-season plums. You can start with this spice mixture, then add more or less as your taste commands. A pinch of cardamom, some cayenne pepper for zing, more ginger, whatever you like. You can even put it in a red plastic squirt bottle, just like at your favorite burger joint. In this case, it really is a vegetable.

Want to share what you've put up and getting handy tips from other urban-homesteading enthusiasts? The preserving pros at Happy Girl Kitchen (who make a very tasty ketchup of their own) are hosting an Autumnal Recipe Exchange today, Oct. 2, from 12-5pm in Oakland. Bring samples of what you've been making along with personal recipes to swap.

Recipe: SLOW-ROASTED AUTUMN KETCHUP
Summary: Dress up a meatloaf or a burger with this smooth and saucy ketchup. Slow and steady oven roasting prevents scorching.
Prep Time: 30 minutes
Cook Time: 4 hours
Total Time: 4 hours 30 minutes
Yield: 1 quart

Ingredients:
4 lbs small, dense-fleshed tomatoes, such as Romas or Early Girls
2 hot peppers, seeded and chopped
1 onion, peeled, halved, and sliced
8 cloves garlic, peeled and sliced
3 quarter-sized slices of fresh ginger, peeled
2 tbsp olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
1 cinnamon stick
4 whole cloves
1/2 tsp coriander seeds
1/2 tsp cumin seeds
1/2 tsp mustard seeds
1/2 tsp paprika
1/2 tsp smoked paprika (pimenton)
1/2 tsp ground allspice
1/4 tsp oregano
1/4 cup cider vinegar
1/4 balsamic vinegar
1/3 to 1/2 cup brown sugar, packed
1 tablespoon maple syrup
2 tablespoons honey
Salt to taste

Instructions:
1. Preheat oven to 325F. In a glass or ceramic 9 x 13 pan, toss tomatoes, peppers, onions, garlic, and ginger together. Drizzle generously with olive oil and sprinkle lightly with salt and black pepper. Break cinnamon stick in half and tuck both halves, plus cloves, into the tomato mixture. Roast, stirring occasionally, for 2 hours, until tomatoes are cooked down and saucy.

2. Remove cinnamon stick and cloves. Put tomato mixture through a food mill or push through a strainer to remove skins and make into a smooth puree.

3. In a small, heavy frying pan, toast coriander, cumin, and mustard seeds over medium heat for a few minutes, until the mustard seeds begin to pop and the mixture smells toasty. Remove from heat and let cool briefly, then grind to a powder using a mortar and pestle or spice grinder.

4. In a bowl, mix spices, tomato puree, vinegar, sugar. Pour mixture back into 9x13 pan and return to oven. Bake, stirring occasionally, until mixture is thickened and flavors have blended, about 1 hour. Taste and adjust seasoning.

5. To fully meld the flavors, scrape mixture into a heavy saucepan and cook over medium-low heat, stirring frequently, for 10-15 minutes.

6. Pour into sterilized jars and seal. Or, pour into clean glass jars, let cool, then top with lids and store in the refrigerator. The ketchup is ready to eat right away, but gets better after collecting itself for a few weeks.

For the past month, every meal I've had at home has included tomatoes in some form. I'm not exaggerating. This time of year brings out the greedy tomato monster in me, and I just gorge on them until they vanish from the stands of farmers' markets.

I'm not alone in my obsession, and I'm particularly fond of Early Girl tomatoes. This year I resolved to eat these red jewels as long as possible and decided to finally make the time to stockpile them in my pantry. Wintertime won't be as bleak knowing that I have a stash of tomatoes to brighten my dishes on occasion.

This past Saturday morning, I bought a crate of dry-farmed Early Girls from Dirty Girl Produce at the Ferry Building (be sure to ask for the ones for canning, they're cheaper!) and hauled 20 pounds home in my bicycle panniers. I set aside the rest of the afternoon for this enterprise because canning is an all-day affair, especially if you're planning on doing a large batch (and you should, since it's so time-consuming.)

I had already stocked up on Weck jars from Weckjars.com; I confess part of my impetus for canning tomatoes this season was that I have a deep affection for these beautiful German jars. You might have spotted them at Heath Ceramics or Crate and Barrel. (They're available on plenty of other online retailers as well, so search around if you can't find them locally.) They're pricier than Ball and Kerr jars, but the lids are reusable as long as you don't crack them. (Ball and Kerr jars lids are one-time use only.)

Weckjars.com was kind enough to provide me with a home-canning guide that was immensely useful and included recipes for a variety of jams, preserves and pickled food. Here's a run-down of the essentials:

1) You need a large pot that's deep enough to accomodate both a rack that you can rest in the bottom and the jars. The jars will rest on this rack and should be completely submerged in water when processing.

2) You'll also need a jar lifter to remove the jars from hot water with ease.

3) Be sure all of your jars are in pristine condition and have been thoroughly cleaned with hot, soapy water. If you see any mold (from being stored in a damp cellar, for instance), boil them for 10 minutes. Always use new rubber rings, and they should have no cracks or tears. Boil the rubber canning rings for 2-3 minutes and leave them in the hot water until you need them.

4) Prep your tomatoes. Chop them up and can them raw, or blanch them to remove the skins, make a sauce, roast them...the possibilities are endless. I like the skins and don't mind seeds, so I just sliced mine up, then roasted them in the oven with olive oil and salt.

5) Fill your jars up almost to the top (I left approximately 1/8" of room, Weck recommends 1/2" but I thought that was too much); you want to be sure that the lids don't squeeze any liquid out when you press them down. Wipe down the rims, then add the lids with the rubber canning rings. Be sure the rings are evenly seated around the lid and don't poke up anywhere. This is very important as it will insure a tight seal later on. Weck jars use rust-proof metal clamps to secure the lids during processing. Clamp two of them on top on opposite ends of the lid. Be sure to completely press down so that they click firmly in place.

6) If you're packing raw tomatoes, you must submerge the jars in room temperature water and bring it to boil. Once the water's boiling (212 °F), you must process them for 90 minutes. For cooked tomatoes, bring the water to a boil and then gently submerge the jars for 50 minutes. You may notice that the volume of your tomatoes has decreased slightly due to the processing stage, as steam and occasionally liquid may leave the jar (but won't enter in.)

7) Don't stack jars on top of each other; be sure to use another rack if you add a second level of jars. It's ok for the jars to touch one another and the walls of the pot itself. However, don't pack them in too tightly. Leave some room so you can remove them easily.

8) Remove the jars with the lifter and let them cool completely. Then remove the clamps and test the lids. Here's the moment of truth: they should be firmly in place, and the tab of the rubber canning ring should be pointing downward. If the lids have any give, refrigerate this batch and start over. Store your jars in a cool, dry place away from sunlight and periodically test the lids of your jars over the next few days to ensure they've successfully sealed. If you notice that the tabs are level, check the seal -- it may be loose. I'd avoid consuming any tomatoes if you feel the seal has been compromised. You don't want to get sick and not be able to eat the good ones over the next few months.

9) When you're ready to eat your tomatoes, pull on the rubber tab to break the seal. You'll hear a satisfying pop and you can feast away.

If you're feeling a bit on the lazier side, you can always freeze your tomatoes, too.

Good luck and happy hoarding!

.

Heirloom tomatoes at a farmers’ market in San Francisco. Photo: advencap

It is high season for tomatoes right now. Your local farmers’ market probably has a whole color spectrum of heirloom tomatoes, from red to green and purple, deepening to almost black. Heirloom tomatoes are getting more and more popular—but what does “heirloom” really mean? And how do these colorful tomatoes differ from their supermarket relatives? KQED QUEST blogger Jennifer Skene has the scoop.

What does “heirloom” mean, anyway?
In agriculture, the word “heirloom” doesn’t have a precise definition. It conjures up ideas of a food that is old fashioned and has been handed down for generations—which is as good a definition as any right now. Heirloom tomatoes are varieties that have been grown without crossbreeding for 40 or more years. This is in contrast to the typical supermarket tomatoes, which are hybrids that have been carefully crossbred to have particular characteristics. Often flavor is not at the top of the list. Instead, hybrid tomatoes are bred for things like resistance to pests and diseases, and firm flesh and thick skin—so they can be harvested by machines and emerge as whole tomatoes, not sauce.

But genetic mixing—or lack thereof—isn’t the only thing that separates the heirlooms and the hybrids. Let’s look at some heirloom tomato myths and truths, to get at other difference between the two tomatoes.

You can grow heirloom tomatoes from their seeds.
Correct. Heirloom tomatoes breed true—if you take the seeds from your heirloom tomatoes, treat them right, and then plant them in the spring, the tomatoes you pluck from the vines in late summer will taste just like their parents tasted. One characteristic of heirloom crops is that they are open-pollinated; pollen is carried by natural mechanisms, like bees or wind. Compare this to commercially grown hybrid tomatoes, which must be pollinated by hand to ensure the correct combination of traits. This is a lot of work, but it’s necessary. Open-pollinated hybrid seeds might carry the good genes for a particular trait, or they might the carry bad genes. The only way to ensure a good crop of hybrids is to plant seeds that have been hand-pollinated so you get the right mix.

Heirloom tomatoes are organic.
Not necessarily. Often they are organic, but they would still be called heirlooms if growers treated them with pesticides and other chemicals. And growers would have good reason to spray: heirlooms don’t have the disease and pest resistance that hybrids have acquired over generations of selective breeding. Heirlooms are particularly susceptible to fungus, which makes them crack and split. Farmers growing heirlooms get one-third the yield (or even less) than they would if they were growing hybrids, because so many plants and fruits are damaged by pests and disease. This is one reason why heirloom tomatoes are so expensive.

Heirlooms taste better.
Often this is true, and there are a couple of reasons for it; some are inherent to heirlooms, and some are byproducts of the way they’re grown and harvested. An heirloom tomato plant often produces a total of only two fruits; all the plant’s reproductive efforts get concentrated into just a few tomatoes. This concentrated effort could be making the tomatoes more flavorful. And, heirlooms usually have more locules—the cavities with the seeds—than commercial hybrids. These locules are flavor centers, full of volatile compounds. Hybrids are less flavorful because they were never bred for flavor—although that is changing. Plus, heirlooms are often grown locally and allowed to ripen on the vine, as opposed to typical supermarket hybrids, which are picked when firm and green, and are ripened to redness in a warehouse with ethylene gas. When and how tomatoes ripen affects their flavor.

Heirlooms are better for you.
False: there is no evidence for this. Heirlooms don’t have more nutrients or anti-oxidants than hybrids.

A tomato tip.
Whether your shopping cart is full of heirlooms or hybrids, whether they’re red or yellow or deep purple, don’t put those tomatoes in the fridge. The cold temperature decreases whatever flavor they may have.

Originally posted on QUEST Sept 12, 2011 by Jennifer Skene

It's summertime, and we might just be the one place in the country actually enjoying itself, rather than wilting under an onslaught of brain-melting heat and humidity. So get out of the house! Some of our favorite bloggers have already told you where to eat outside this summer. Still, maybe you'd like to find yourself some green, rather than spending it. Forget the food trucks for a minute; let's go hang out with the farmers!

Getting on the electronic mailing list for Marin Organic, promoters and advocates for sustainable agriculture in Marin, is a great way to keep on top of tours, talks, and special events happening just across the bridge. Coming up next month are a dairy tour of Straus Family Creamery, an orchard walk through the olive groves of McEvoy Ranch, and a discussion with bakers Chad Robertson (Tartine Bread), Celine Underwood (Brickmaiden Bakery), and David Muller (Outerlands) about their adventures in sourdough. You can also go to Sonoma Farm Trails to downloads maps and farm guides and plan your own tour of that area's rich agricultural offerings.

CUESA, the Center for Urban Education about Sustainable Agriculture, is best known for running the San Francisco Ferry Plaza Farmers' Market, but they also organize periodic tours of local farms and producers. On August 10, you can join CUESA for an Organic Greens & Blue Cheese Tour featuring County Line Harvest, growers of excellent lettuces, strawberries, and more, and the family-run Point Reyes Farmstead Cheese Company.

Chez Panisse is planning a series of pricey fundraisers for the Edible Schoolyard in conjunction with its 40th birthday next month, but there is one free, family-friendly OPENeducation event happening on August 27 at the Berkeley Art Museum. (Tickets are free but must be reserved in advance.) The day is planned as a series of "interactive cooking installations" between museum-goers and a posse of farmers, educators, and artists, using corn, beans, and squash planted in the outdoor spaces of the museum.

And speaking of family fun, devoted Bay Area Bites readers may know Devil's Gulch Ranch as one of our favorite sources for locally produced rabbit, but they're more than just bunnies. They also host a ranch camp for kids, with three more weeklong sessions remaining.

Apples in August? For anyone born and bred on the East Coast, where apples mean autumn, the idea of this can seem a little bizarre. However, our California-grown heirloom apple, the Gravenstein, is a early ripener, ready for pie by mid-August. Celebrate its yellow-and-red striped delights at Sebastopol's down-home Gravenstein Apple Fair on August 13 and 14. You can even go up against this one-time grand champion in the Apple Pie Contest.

Most small producers have their hands full just getting their day-to-day chores done, especially when there are animals in the mix--which means your favorite cheesemaker or farmer is rarely available for drop-in visits. On August 7, Bay Area Green Tours is planning a daylong "Tomatoes, Peaches, Corn, and More" tour of Brentwood, with stops at Frog Hollow Farm, Dwelley Farm, and Smith Family Farm. (Don't forget your sunscreen and sun hat, as Brentwood bakes in the summertime. Good for the peaches and tomatoes, a little shocking to fog-dwelling San Franciscans.) On August 18, take a One Valley, Three Milks tour and get a behind-the-scenes peek of Bellwether Farms (sheep), Two Rock Valley Cheese (goat), and Valley Ford Cheese Company (cow).

You can also sign up (for free) as a member of Weirauch Farm, a small sheep dairy and creamery, and save the date for their next members-only tour on Aug. 13. The setting, in the rolling hills of Petaluma, is beautiful, and the sheep (pictured above) are as friendly and inquisitive as puppies. While owners Joel and Carleen Weirauch finish up their sheep-milking parlor (they're hoping to have it completed in time for next spring's milking season), they're making some delectable cows' milk cheeses, available after the tour for tasting and purchase.

But what if you want to stay closer to home, enjoying the flavor of local farms without getting mud on your shoes? Then head over to Potrero Hill's sweet, sunny Plow. Look for the metal pig hanging outside, or the many happy diners inside, all grooving on lemon-ricotta pancakes or (my favorite) dreamy French toast gobbed with mascarpone and topped with thick wedges of brown sugar-and-butter roasted Summer Zee peaches from Blossom Bluff Orchards.

The menu shifts daily, but a recent meal included breakfast and lunch offerings like a soft scramble with lambs quarter greens, mushrooms, and goat cheese; housemade yogurt and granola with fruit and Potrero Hill honey; cucumber-buttermilk gazpacho; green bean and Sungold tomato salad with purslane and fresh mozzarella; and a BLT stacked with Nueske bacon and glowing, gorgeous heirloom tomato slices. Farms, orchards, ranchers, bakers, and producers are thanked in four lines of small type at the bottom of the menu, name-checking all the purveyors we know from markets around the Bay Area: Mariquita Farms, Dirty Girl Produce, County Line Harvest, Hamada Farms, Frog Hollow, Straus Family Creamery, Marin Sun Farms, Acme Bread, and more. Happy summer!

24 lbs of Early Girl Tomatoes

I have a confession to make: I've been on a bit of a tomato bender.

I just can't help it. They are just so irresistible. I've been popping cherry tomatoes like pills, sneaking slices and dices of heirlooms into every meal, and lusting after Early Girls.

I recently came across this Mario Batali clip, and learned that there is a word for my ailment. The Italians call it Scorpacciata.

It means, essentially, a feeding frenzy…specifically, on something that is in season. In Batali's words, it's when something comes into season, and you "go at it with a vengeance." You have it in every way that you can, you commit to it, you gorge on it, eating as much of it as possible, because in the real world, that one shining item is only available, in its prime deliciousness, for a small window of time.

Ah, see? The Italians have been doing it for so long, they have a whole word for it. That makes me feel better.

To help feed my feeding frenzy, I turned once again this year, to the Ladybug Truck, Mariquita Farm's bulk buying club. I showed up early at the drop-off point (a.k.a. Piccino), and indulged in a lovely brunch al fresco to take the edge off.

Brunch at Piccino Cafe

Roasted Fruit Bruschetta (chewy, crispy slices of house-made bread, slathered with honey butter and topped with roasted strawberries and pluots, basil, and a drizzle of crème fraiche) and Salsiccia Pizza (house-made sausage, red onions, mozzarella, topped with two perfectly soft-baked eggs) got me feeling pretty good.

The Ladybug Truck

And then my supplier came. Score. I procured my 24 pounds of Early Girl gold and got my canning underway. There is nothing in the world like pulling out a jar of canned fresh tomatoes in the dead of winter, and getting a little jolt of summer again.

Peeled tomatoes

I couldn't wait to taste my loot and made a batch of sauce right away for that night's dinner. A simple and utterly satisfying meal of angel hair pasta and Early Girl Tomato Sauce. This sauce is made with four ingredients: peeled Early Girls, a clove of garlic, a spoonful of sugar, and a splash of balsamic vinegar. Cross my heart, that's all you need. And here's a secret: add a little cream at the end and you've got Tomato Soup!

You may recall another recipe for Tomato (Butter) Sauce I shared not long ago...well, I'm not saying that one tomato sauce is better than the other. I love them both the same, in different ways. Like jeans. There are skinny jeans, and there are comfy jeans. There are work jeans, and there are going-out jeans. I could carry this comparison on for a while, but I think you get the idea.

What I'm saying is…sometimes you need a little butter comfort in your life. And sometimes you need pure, fresh, healthy, goodness.

So, what are you waiting for? Farsi una scorpacciata! Quick, before it's too late!

Spaghetti with Early Girl Tomato Sauce

Early Girl Tomato Sauce
As Bay Area gourmands like to say, it's all about the ingredients. These dry-farmed Early Girl tomatoes are so intense and sweet, they make for an incredibly simple, utterly delicious tomato sauce. I've also been known to add a splash of cream at the end and turn this into Tomato Soup!

Makes: Enough to coat ½ pound spaghetti

Ingredients:
About 1 quart container of peeled Early Girl tomatoes *
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tablespoon sugar
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar

Preparation:
1. Heat up a tablespoon of olive oil in a saucepan and add the minced garlic. Sautee to soften the garlic, making sure not to brown/burn.
2. Puree the tomatoes in a blender or food processor
3. Add the tomatoes, sugar, and balsamic vinegar to the saucepan. Let simmer until sauce thickens.

* If you are working with fresh tomatoes, remove the skins by dropping the tomatoes in boiling water for 1 minute. Remove and run under cold water. You should then be able to easily peel the tomatoes.

Inside the Tomato Tasting Tent

The Kendall-Jackson Heirloom Tomato Festival sells out every year, and this year was no exception. Over 3,000 tomato fans turned out this past Saturday to enjoy a hot summer day on Kendall-Jackson’s beautiful grounds, from which more than 175 varieties of heirloom tomatoes were picked fresh for the festival feasting.

Festival Goers cut a rug to the tunes of Steve Lucky and the Rhumba Bums

The day-long event featured live music, wine and food education seminars, cooking demos, a Chef Challenge, wine tastings, and tasting tables from more than 50 local restaurants, all featuring -- you guessed it -- juicy, sweet, heirloom tomatoes.

A majority of the dishes featured some combination of tomato + carb + cheese (no complaints here).

Wood-fired Margherita Pizza (Jackson's Bar and Oven)

Jackson's Bar and Oven had their wood-burning oven set up right on the patio, churning out saucy Margherita Pizzas as guests came filing in.

Gruyere & Bacon Tart with Early Girl Tomato Marmalade and Sundried Tomato (The Girl & The Fig)

I was excited to see The Girl & The Fig representing with a savory Gruyere & Bacon Tart, topped with Early Girl Tomato Marmalade and House-made Sundried Tomato.

Savory Tomato "S'Mores" (John Ash & Co. at Vintners Inn)

Veering towards the sweeter spectrum was an interesting creation by Executive Chef Thomas Schmidt of John Ash & Co. at Vintners Inn. Schmidt served up Tomato "S'Mores" made with House-made Herb Crackers, Burrata Cheese, Tomato Jam and Basil-infused Kendall Farms Crème Fraiche.

I loved the creativity here, and it was just the right warm-up as we headed next to the tomato-inspired desserts!

Sticky Fingers (Cutie Cakes Bakeshop)

There were Mini Heirloom Tomato Waffles with Whipped Tomato Butter & Heirloom Syrup from Nectar, Fiorello's Watermelon Tomato Mint Gelato from Gotta Havit Desserts, and my favorite, a buttery, burnt caramel confection from Cutie Cakes Bakeshop -- Sticky Fingers: Vanilla Butter Cake with Pineapple & Cardamom-scented Caramel and Brown Sugar Heirloom Tomatoes.

Tomato Tasting Tent

And if it was straight up, unadulterated tomatoes you were looking for, all you had to do was head to the Tomato Tasting Tent where there were a dizzying 192 different varieties of heirloom tomatoes to try. You've probably heard of red, green, and yellow tomatoes before, but did you know there are also varieties that are categorized as white, gold, orange, pink, purple, brown, and even black?

A young connoisseur

My top three picks from the tasting tent were:
1. Sungold Cherries – a burst of tomato sunshine
2. Green Gage – robust and intensely flavored yellow tomato
3. Paul Robeson – my first taste of a brown tomato

2 lbs 4.5 oz of Tomato Glory

The experts also weighed in on their favorite home-grown heirlooms. In the Largest/Heaviest category was a Pineapple Stripe, grown by Brad Agerter, weighing in at 2 lbs 4.5 oz.

Best of Show in the Festival Growers Competition went to Mia Brown's Green Doctor cherry tomatoes. What started as an innocent hobby with 15 or so plants, has expanded over the years to 171 plants and over 85 varieties. Mia lives and grows her tomatoes in Lodi. When she's not growing heirloom tomatoes, she's a practicing attorney with a focus in water rights, agriculture, and public agency law.

Kendall Jackson Heirloom Tomato Festival

The event culminated in a head-to-head throwdown between Chef Challenge finalists, Justin Wangler (Kendall-Jackson Wine Estates) and Ryan Scott (Ryan Scott 2 Go).

Chef Justin Wangler vs. Chef Ryan Scott

In a short 30 minutes, the chefs prepared a four course meal using tomatoes and Kendall-Jackson wines as flavor inspirations. To make it interesting, judges selected three secret ingredients to incorporate as well: Kobe beef, diver scallops, and escargot. In the end, Chef Wangler reigned supreme, impressing everyone with:

• Seared scallops with bacon, corn, chanterelles, and a Chardonnay sauce with tarragon
• Escargot with Delice de la Vallee cheese, gnocchi with brown butter, roasted tomato, and puree of Cherokee purple tomatoes
• Roasted Kobe beef over mashed potato, topped with roasted tomatoes, beef jus, and huckleberry juice
• Delice de la Vallee with wine grapes frozen with liquid nitrogen, fresh red Roma tomatoes, figs, and aged balsamic vinegar

Wangler's winning Kobe

*****
The Kendall Jackson Heirloom Tomato Festival contributes all its net proceeds to the School Garden Network of Sonoma County, an organization that helps students develop dedication to the environment, academic achievement and their communities, with hands-on learning about food and nutrition.

14th Annual Kendall Jackson Heirloom Tomato Festival
Kendall-Jackson Wine Center
5007 Fulton Road
Santa Rosa, CA 95439

For the longest time, I never really knew what to think of cherry tomatoes. Or what to do with them. Though I might have regarded them as more interesting and Barbie-sized than the usual, boring (and most often flavorless) Beefsteak tomatoes I'd normally encountered, I left them where I felt they rightly belonged-- at the Sizzler salad bar, carelessly splashed by a variety of commercial salad dressings.

Several (and I do mean several) years later, when God's cruel irony found me making salads to earn a living, I learned that cherry tomatoes had a very special purpose in life. From my guardian angel of a chef/boss named Jan Gardener, I learned that these tiny little tomatoes were meant to be cooked. Sautéed, braised, or (best of all) roasted.

Jan would throw them in a pie pan, add a couple of pats of butter, some fresh thyme sprigs from her business partner's farm in Calistoga, sprinkle a little salt and pepper over them and then pop them in the oven. When they emerged, they were heat-burst, saucy, and very, very tomato-y. She'd serve these precious little (exploded) angels-straight-from- heaven (or, more correctly, straight from the oven) over bowls of creamy polenta and cheese or alongside roasted chickens and grilled steaks.

Simple. And utterly delightful.

It's a busy week here at home. I haven't the time to roast a chicken and I lack the outdoor space to fire up a grill for steaks. And, since I haven't been feeling the pull of polenta lately, I needed to find another way to serve these tomatoes up. Since I'm only home durning lunchtime hours, I craved a sandwich. So this is what I came up with today:

B, L & Oven-Roasted T

It's not a mind-blowing sandwich, nor should it be. If ever I felt that a sandwich had that sort of effect on my life, I'd know that I just wasn't getting out enough. It is, however, a really, really good one. Rather than allowing the bacon to be the star, as it usually is in this flavor trio, the tomatoes take center stage. I mean this is a figurative sense, since the tomatoes are actually smeared on the bread and the bacon is at the actual center.

Oh, I think you know what I mean.

And, by the way, I am not going to give you any instruction as to how to fry bacon. For that, I'll just have to show you a cartoon my friend Lea drew.

Makes 4 sandwiches (with leftover tomatoes, which is a good thing)

Ingredients:

For the roasted cherry tomatoes:

2 cups cherry tomatoes

3 to 4 tablespoons of butter

A few sprigs of fresh thyme

Salt and pepper to taste

For the rest of the sandwich:

12 slices of bacon (your choice), cooked

A few leaves of arugula (my choice) or any lettuce of your choice if you're going to be a stickler about thing and insist upon sticking with the "l" word. In this particular case, the "l" word being "lettuce."

Mayonnaise for spreading on:

8 slices of toasted bread (your pick, pal)

Preparation:

1. Preheat oven to 375ºF

2. Rinse tomatoes in a colander. Shake dry.

3. Arrange tomatoes in an even(-ish) layer in a medium sized cast iron skillet, or cake pan, or whatever you feel like roasting the little dears in, so long as it is non-reactive. dot with butter, toss on the thyme sprigs, and sprinkle with a little salt and pepper. Throw in oven. Roast for about 45 minutes, stirring them up occasionally to make them pop and release their juices. They may be declared "done" when most (but not all) of the liquid has evaporated and the tomatoes have slightly shriveled.

4. Remove tomatoes from oven and let cool.

5. To assemble sandwich (I feel like a fool for even explaining this, because I am quite certain you know how to put together a damned sandwich), spread the inside of your bottom piece of toast with roasted cherry tomatoes, lay three slices of bacon on top, then cover those in a layer of lettuce or arugula or some other green. Slather your top layer of toast with mayonnaise (or aioli or whatever you feel like, really) and close.

6. Repeat until you have fed everyone within reach who eats bacon.

7. Go outside. It's nice out.

If there is one fruit that stands out in my mind as the poster child for late summer, it is the tomato. It bursts upon the scene in July, crowding farmers markets and restaurant menus.

With the possible exception of my sister, people I know can't seem to get enough of tomatoes. We slice them, dice them, pickle them, stew them, can them, stuff them, and do just about everything decent and indecent one can think of to them. The Spanish are so overwhelmed by them that the strip down and throw them at each other in what is possibly the largest single-item, annual food fight in the world.

Then suddenly, like all good things, their season comes to an end. The Spaniards clean up their mess, the marketeers start pimping other fruit like persimmons (which, to the extremely myopic, might look like anemic tomatoes), the rest of us move on to the next ripe thing that catches our eye, and summer just goes away.

For most people, anyhow.

I seem to know a lot of folks who are doing their damnedest to bottle up enough summer to warm themselves and their loved ones in the upcoming colder months. For example, the gentlemen over at Hedonia recently processed 200 pounds of tomatoes and have offered their services to help friends do the same. And there are others. Thanks to the connective powers of Facebook, I was recently re-acquainted with a fellow named Kevin West, who is not only saving his tomatoes, but seemingly anything and everything that can be pickled, jammed, or otherwise preserved in a burst of worker ant hyper-activity.

After reading West's blog, I had to admit to myself that preserves and other "put-up" items are an enormous weakness of mine, in terms of both affection and, sadly, experience. Why have I never preserved anything beyond cherries for my winter Manhattans? I decided I must do something about both my inexperience and my bad habit of playing Aesop's grasshopper, while my worker ant friends toiled away with an eye toward winter. I decided to stop fiddling around and roll up my sleeves.

I gave my début into the society of preservationists some thought. I was going to bottle up my own bit of summer as brightly as a child collecting fireflies in a Mason jar. Noting that I owned a few empty Mason jars, but that fireflies are rather difficult to come by in San Francisco, I opted for tomatoes instead. Yes, I would create something that I thought best captured the essence of the tomato's warm, summer ripeness.

Ketchup.

Why I chose ketchup is rather hard to say. I may have thought a lot about it, but I never said that my thinking wasn't fundamentally flawed.

While discussing this condiment that the Reagan administration legally defined as a vegetable with my friend Jay, I was wondering aloud about how it was made. "Well, Mikey, ketchup doesn't just happen, you know," implying that somebody has to make it. I decided to become that somebody who happens to make ketchup.

I bought the loveliest tomatoes I could find and waited for them to ripen. I pored over dozens of ketchup recipes, selectively hybridizing them the way growers create new strains of corn or pumpkins. I even added my own, secret touches to add depth. I would start small and see what became of my creation.

Three pounds of beautiful tomatoes, ripe and bursting with juice, sat on my cutting board. I saluted them and told them how lucky they were to be giving their lives for such a time-honored experiment in preservation before hacking them to pieces and throwing them into my dutch oven.

I added the shallots, the vinegar, and the spices neatly tied up in cheese cloth. I let them all stew, stirred them with care, puréed them, and sieved the sauce according to direction. Everything was perfect. I reduced it and then I reduced it some more. I added sugar and salt.

I took a bit of the sauce and spooned it onto a cold plate. Not as thick as the Heinz variety, not nearly as runny as soup. It had both the color and viscosity of arterial blood, which seemed to me the perfect metaphor of essence-- a sort of tomato life force. Three pounds of gorgeous tomatoes reduced to slightly more than half a cup of sauce.

And then I tasted it.

It tasted exactly like ketchup. Of course, that's what it was supposed to taste like. It just didn't taste much like summer. More correctly, it tasted as much of summer as the yellow mustard that typically sits next to the ketchup at an outdoor barbecue. I had taken those three pounds of tomatoes and turned them into next-to-nothingness. The concentration of tomato flavor was there, but it was obscured by the twelve or so other ingredients it shared space with. It was as though someone had taken their grandmother's ashes and dumped them into a giant ashtray. You know she's there but, unless she was known as a heavy smoker, her true essence has been lost in a mix of menthols and ultra-lights.

The experiment was not a total disaster, since I actually learned how to make ketchup-- mediocre ketchup, to be sure, but ketchup, nevertheless. Spending $30.00 to make a half cup of passable ketch, however, is not exactly cost-effective. In the future, I shall stick to my beloved Muir Glen brand and let them do all the work.

This doesn't mean I'm giving up on the canning and preserving idea. Quite the opposite, in fact. If anything, I have learned that I have a lot to learn about technique, subtlety, and, above all, patience.

In the meantime I will move on to other fruits that are ripe for experiment. I'll leave tomatoes alone, save to occasionally slice one and decorate it with a drizzle of olive oil and a sprinkle of sea salt until I have had my fill of them for the season. Then, when it's colder, I will beg my more productive friends for a jar or two of their efforts to tide me over until next year. That is, if they take pity upon a poor grasshopper like me.

It's heirloom tomato season! The folks over at Visa and the chefs of the Golden Gate Restaurant Association wisely recognized that's reason enough to celebrate. Beginning next week over 52 restaurants and chefs are putting together special themed tasting menus including Chris Cosentino of Incanto, Bruce Hill of Bix, Traci des Jardins of Jardinière and Acme Chop House, and Craig Stoll of Delfina. Pay for your meal with a Visa Signature card you will also receive a tomato commemorative book, including special recipes from the chefs and restaurants involved in the event.


What: Heirloom Tomato Week

When: August 14-24 plus a tasting event August 7-9 at Union Square.

Where: Selected San Francisco restaurants

How: Dine at any of the participating restaurants, by booking at OpenTable

Why: Let's put that nasty salmonella outbreak behind us once and for all, and enjoy the pure pleasure of tomatoes again.

Here's an example of an heirloom tasting menu with wine pairing, from one of the participating restaurants, Plumpjack Cafe :

Heirloom tomato salad
Tarragon Aioli, Banyuls Vinegar, Onion Marmalade

Cambiata Albarino 2007 Monterey

Seared day boat scallops
Golden Tomato Vinaigrette, Savoy Spinach

Dom. de la Chapelle Macon Soultre Pouilly 2007 France

Tomato braised kurobuta pork shoulder
Pimenton de Padron, Summer Squash, Moroccan Black Olives

Lagerla Rosso di Montalcino 2004 Italy

Selection of cheeses
Heirloom Tomato Condiments, Toasted Peasant Bread

Lustau “Emilin” Moscatel Sherry Spain

Tasting menu is $45 and optional wine pairing $21

Want to enjoy the best Summer produce at home? Here's a recipe adapted from Barilla Pasta.

Summer Spaghetti

1 lb whole grain spaghetti
2 Tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1 clove garlic
1 small white onion, finely chopped
1 yellow bell pepper, julienned
2 cups zucchini, diced
2 cups yellow squash, diced
1 pint cherry or grape tomatoes, halved
Salt and black pepper, to taste
4 fresh basil leaves, torn

Cook pasta according to package directions.

Meanwhile, heat olive oil in a large skillet. Using the side of a knife, gently press and peel the garlic and sauté in skillet for 1 minute, or until slightly brown. Add onion and sauté for 5 minutes, or until translucent. Add bell pepper, zucchini, yellow squash and sauté until heated but not completely cooked. Add tomatoes, season with salt and pepper and sauté for 2 additional minutes.

Drain pasta, add to skillet and toss with basil before serving.