Skip to main content

Preserving the tomato harvest

With our tomato harvest coming in fast, we were faced with the need to:
  • Cultivate an untiring passion for tomato-centric meals;
  • Distribute the harvest to friends; or
  • Find a preservation method. This usually means canning (or cooking and canning, if you want tomato sauce or stewed tomatoes), which doesn't have a lot of appeal on hot days.
Several years ago we did try canning. Tomato canning is a good starting place for a beginner because the acid in the tomatoes helps prevent botulism, so you don't have to worry quite so much about wiping out a dinner party with home-canned tomatoes.

As I recall, a neighbor had a bumper crop of San Marzanos. They did their own canning and distributed the overflow to friends. 

I loved the name. "San Marzano" just rolls off your tongue -- like, well like Italian with a really good accent.  It's just such a pasta-ready name. Until then, the tomatoes I knew were anonymous as soon as the Magic Marker washed off the little plastic stake. And "Beef Steak" just doesn't have the ring of "San Marzano."

Neither Karen nor I had done any canning. After buying the Ball instruction and recipe book, a flat or two of jars, a blue-speckled canner, some bent tongs, a jar basket and a wide-mouthed funnel, we were ready to spend hours in a steamy kitchen, peeling tomatoes, boiling jars and boiling peeled tomatoes in jars. It's not on my Top10 List of Things I'd Like to Do Again.

This year, our preservation method of choice was dehydration. We used my favorite process: I bundled the bulky, 10-tiered dehydrator into a vinyl grocery bag and delivered it to Farmer Karen to do the rest.

And, oh what a delicious job she did!

The lovely, brick-red dried tomatoes were about the size of gourmet potato chips (the smaller ones, not the dip-gobbing picnic-sized chips). They were chewy and tender with a fresh, sweet-tart taste that enticed you to eat another . . . then another . . . then . . .  They are perfect to eat by themselves as a snack, with a dip or tossed into a salad.

At first bite, I was ready to drop the Friends and Neighbors Sharing Plan and concentrate our harvest into dehydrated tomato chips. Here is the secret recipe:

Karen Fink's DWP-Dried Tomato Chips

Step 1: Clean, dry and remove the stems from fresh garden tomatoes (or ones purchased from a farmers market).

Step 2: Slice or cut the tomatoes into wedges. Some sources suggest using an egg slicer for this. It might be great, but it might create a massive mess. Karen chose to make slices using a knife rather than wedges because the slices are more even and dehydrate better. She cut our smallish (roma-sized) tomatoes into thirds.

Step 3: Lay the tomato slices out evenly on the dehydrator trays. Stack the trays in the dehydrator and set the temperature for 135 degrees F. Dry for nine to 12 hours. Rotate the trays in the dehydrator every couple of hours.

When finished, let the tomato chips cool, then put them in an air-tight container.  They can be frozen for a longer lifespan.

You could season the tomatoes before drying. Karen preferred to leave them in their natural state. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Know Your Soil For Best Garden Results

I've always taken soil for granted. It was there. You put seeds into it. You put water on it. Plants grow and produce flowers, fruit or vegetables. Gayle Weinstein, author of Xeriscape Handbook; A How-To Guide to Natural, Resource-Wise Gardening , takes a different view: “Soil . . . acts as a highway between life and death, land and atmosphere, plants and animals.” It stores water, air and nutrients and makes it possible for an exchange of elements and chemical reactions to occur, she adds. She describes soil as being animal, vegetable and mineral combined. Here are six tests Gayle recommends for getting to know your soil. Grab a shovel and a quart jar. Dig up two cups of dry soil two-to-six inches deep from the areas you want to test. Gather a glass of water, dish washing detergent and paper towels. A soil pH kit, a meter or litmus paper will be needed for the final test.

Away With Holey Leaves: Offing the Pests

I can't stand the tell-tale signs of garden pests: the leaves with holes, the failure to thrive. I believe in early assault with organic deterrents. Kate has great faith in plants' commitment to survive.  She considers holes in leaves to be a mere cosmetic blemish. Like politics and religion, getting rid of pests in a garden is sure to cause a community donnybrook (or at least rapid words over ice water in the lounge chairs). To do organic warfare against pests means using one or more of these tools:

Herbal challenges

The thought of an orderly, scented kitchen garden like I've seen at The Huntington Gardens or in books is so appealing.  Ranks of herbs -- thyme, oregano, basil and parsley -- lining neat pathways in easy reach for cutting. A garden right outside the kitchen when you need a pinch of marjoram for a sauce . . . At Fink Farms, it never works out like that.  Unruly bunches of herbs grow into each other, or bolt or shrivel in the sun without water.  When we first started the farm, we were growing herbs in the main garden with the tomatoes, and beans and lettuce greens. I decided to set up a separate herb area along the cinder block wall, first because of squabbles about what should go where between the then-three partners and, secondly, because I'd read that herbs like adverse conditions.  Since we were composting up the main garden, I thought perhaps the herbs would do better in less rich ground. There were problems with that thinking: There probably isn't enoug...