What I did with my very last tomato

Yes, folks, it's true: tomato season has come to a close. Back when I made this, in October, I wasn't walking, it seemed pretty unlikely that I'd make it back to the farmers market to catch one last round of tomato madness, so I figured it was safe to assume that the tomato I ate that night was my last for the season. I'm a card-carrying member of the tomato lovers' cult, so that's not an easy thing to admit -- but, like an old fling whose time has come to an end, I think I can walk away from this one with no regrets.

Running with that analogy for a minute: you'd like to think your last time with the fling would be the best there was to have, the best there ever would have been. But that's never the case, is it? Usually the last time is just....fine. Such was the case with my last tomato. It wasn't one of those specimens that could have been framed. No shiny, taut, glossy skin and jewel-like innards. Had it been perfect, I'd have eaten it raw, simply sliced with olive oil and fleur de sel. But I was already smack-dab in the middle of fall, and my tomato wasn't so perfect. However, it was jam-packed with flavor, that I can assure you. So I prepared that last tomato in a dish that quickly became a standby this summer -- a dish that's perfect for celebrating tomatoes' flavor even when their texture is somewhat imperfect. What's that, you ask?

Quick-sauteed tomatoes with feta and anaheim chilies. So few steps, so many flavors. It's one of those dishes where the right ingredients, the right cooking method and time, and the right appetite just work. It really is such an easy dish to throw together; while I generally make it for one, it is easily be sized up to feed a crowd. And while I often find myself eating it straight out of a bowl (and drinking the soupy sauce at the end, slurps and all), this quick-stew would be lovely (and a bit fancier) served over a slice of toasted baguette, perhaps rubbed with garlic. Already, I'm wishing I had a few more bites on hand!

If you've got one more tomato -- or, perhaps, one tomato that's not as shiny and perfect as all the others -- don't hesitate; make this dish. I promise, you'll look back on that last tomato with fond memories, and not one ounce of regret.

Sauteed tomatoes with feta and anaheim chilies serves 1

1 large tomato, needn't be perfect; I used beefsteak 1 anaheim chili 1 sprig cilantro, optional a couple big chunks feta cheese, high quality and not low-fat salt and pepper

Roast the chili over an open flame. I use my gas stove. Roast until the skin is blistered all over. Either using a damp paper towel or under running water, remove the charred skin until only the flesh remains. To reduce the pepper's heat, remove the seeds and fibrous membrane threads as well. Slice pepper into rings.

Slice tomato into 8 wedges, and slice each wedge in half. In small saute pan, place tomato, pepper, and 1 Tbsp of olive oil. Saute for 3 or so minutes over medium heat, until tomatoes begin to emit their juices. Toss a few times to incorporate. Add chunks of feta cheese, give the whole thing one quick stir to break up the feta a bit, turn off the heat, and eat immediately. Done correctly, the stew will make a delightful spicy feta-tomato broth at the bottom of the bowl, which is absolutely perfect for slurping. I usually lick the bottom of my bowl without shame.

Braised Sweet and Sour Red Cabbage

Not too long ago, I walked into my parents' house and immediately caught wafts of the most fantastic aroma coming from (as always) the kitchen. I started sticking my fingers into each of the dishes sitting on the dining room table, eager to find the source. After trying most everything else on the table, I nonchalantly scooped up a pinch of cooked red cabbage, thinking not even a little that it might actually be the culprit. Boy, was I surprised. Divine, I tell you! And I don't use that word all too often...but this truly is a recipe for the ages.

Turns out, it's also dead simple; go figure. At my persistent begging, my mom passed along the recipe she'd used to make it. I tweaked it, as I am often wont to do, because when I see an ingredient in the fridge and think it might add something, I've no self control, not even an ounce. And while sometimes that habit ruins otherwise tasty cooking (insert gross story here), other times, I'm rewarded for my impulses. This cabbage most definitely benefited from my hyperactive ingredient-adding tendency.

According to the basic recipe (which itself is quite lovely), red cabbage cooks until soft and fork-tender in a mix of tomatoes, red wine vinegar, sugar, onions, and raisins. Out of raisins, I used dried cranberries, which were nice (though I think I'd try it with raisins next time, since I bet they're just dandy). I also added more than a splash of dry red wine, which gave the dish noticeable depth of flavor and helped cut the straightforward sweet-sour dichotomy with a hint of bitterness. I also subbed in red onions for the yellow onions in the original recipe, because that's what was lying around my house. Red onions also have a slight bitterness to them, which wasn't obvious to my dull palate but may have done some good (who knows?). Last but not least -- here's the real show-stealer -- I added a generous sprinkling of pomegranate seeds to the finished dish, just before serving. Their ruby-red color and gem-like shape lent a decadence to an otherwise homey dish, their tangy-sweet flavor mingled lovely with the cabbage juices, and their crunch gave the final product important textural contrast. Needless to say, I was happy with the outcome -- and the dish got overwhelming positive feedback from my lunch guests (one of whom is notoriously, um, selective -- love you, T!) I'll be making this dish when pomegranates are available as much as possible.

Braised Sweet and Sour Red Cabbage

1 apple, chopped 1 red cabbage, sliced pretty thinly 2 cups onions 3 cloves garlic 1 tsp olive oil 3 or more cups water 3 cups tomatoes (I used canned) 2/3 cup raisins or craisins 1/2 cup plus a couple Tbsp. red wine vinegar 1/2 cup sugar or brown sugar salt and pepper 1/2 cup dry red wine, to taste the seeds of 1 pomegranate

In large pot, saute onion and garlic in olive oil over medium heat until translucent and fragrant. Add cabbage, 2 cups of water, and remaining ingredients except pomegranate and salt. Cover and ignore. Seriously. You want the cabbage to soften and break down a bit, and the other flavors to meet and mingle. Check occasionally, and add water as needed to prevent sticking. In all, the cabbage should take about an hour; you want it really soft and fragrant, and you want the scent to be mellow and rich. Promise -- it's really delicious when it's finished. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

At this point, you can store the cabbage in the fridge for up to two weeks or in the freezer forever (did I just say that?)

Immediately before serving, sprinkle the pomegranate seeds overtop and toss to incorporate. You won't be sorry.

Easiest Broccoli Slaw (ever!)

Yes, yes, summer's almost over (eek! I won't say it again, I promise) -- but there's still plenty of time for you country folk to fire up your grill while we city folk peer jealously out our windows and inhale the aromas. Meanwhile, if you're an urbanite lucky enough to get invited over to said grill-equipped home, here's a great slaw to bring along with. I guarantee it'll win you some fans -- maybe even get you invited back. (You'll notice that I actually just brought it for lunch one day. I promise it tastes good both outdoors and in A/C.)

Easiest Broccoli Slaw

1 Package Broccoli Slaw or 2 heads broccoli, florets removed, ends discarded and stems grated 2 Apples (I like Fuji), quartered and thinly sliced 1/2 cup dried black currants or raisins 3/4 cup toasted sliced or slivered almonds 1 carrot, grated (optional) several chives, chopped

Dressing: 1/3 cup apple cider, rice, or other sweet, light vinegar dash soy sauce dash lime juice 1 Tbsp. blue agave, maple syrup, or other sweetener, or 1/2 Tbsp. brown sugar (not white sugar) salt and pepper olive oil (I like 1/4 cup, but most people prefer more)

You know the drill: mix ingredients in a bowl. Shake dressing ingredients in well-sealed container until well-emulsified. Combine and enjoy.

Mediterranean Orzo Salad

Well hello dear readers! Nice of you to join me here, at this oft-neglected blog of mine. Work has taken a turn for the busier, and I've not been posting as much as I'd like. The craziness will likely continue through the end of the month, but then I'm home free and will post much more! Meanwhile, thanks for hangin' in there. And you'll be handsomely rewarded for your patience -- I have a couple of smashingly delicious recipes in the queue.

As you may have noticed, it's pretty smokin' hot these days. For those of us city folks without a porch, grilling isn't much of an option, but nonetheless, I try to minimize indoor cooking as much as possible during summer months. This orzo salad requires no oven time, and just around 20 minutes of stovetop cooking. It can also be tweaked in any number of ways; as usual, the recipe I provide here is entirely a function of what was in my fridge when I made it, and you should listen to your fridge's innards just as carefully.

The lovely thing about orzo salad -- how can I pick just one! -- is that it's the perfect picnic dish. Part side, part main, nutritious, tasty at room temperature, it really behaves itself on the gingham tablecloth. I served this a couple weeks ago for lunch alongside mini crustless mushroom quiches (delicious, though I've no pictures to prove it). However, it's just delightful on its own, as well.

Mediterranean Orzo Salad

• 2 1/2 cups orzo
• 1 bunch kale, de-stemmed and chopped
• 1/2 cup sundried tomatoes*
• 1 block feta cheese
• 1 can of cannellini beans
• 1/2 a yellow onion, chopped
• 1/4 cup red wine vinegar
• olive oil
• salt and pepper

*If sundried tomatoes are packed in oil, roughly chop them. If they are dry, soak them in a bit of warm water for 10-20 minutes to reconstitute.

Cook orzo according to package directions. Strain water, reserving just a bit to prevent clumping. Set aside.

In a heavy-bottomed saucepan, heat a few Tbsp. of olive oil over medium-low heat. Add onion, and cook slowly until it begins to caramelize, about 15 min. When the onion is translucent and has begun to turn golden, add chopped kale, some salt, and a splash of water, and cook for about 5 minutes until kale has wilted. Remove from the heat and add immediately to orzo, tossing to combine.

Add beans and sundried tomatoes; stir to incorporate. Chop feta into cubes, and add just before serving. Taste the salad; if it needs some acidity, add some red wine vinegar. I ended up adding about 1/4 cup. Add salt and pepper as needed, and finish with a scant drizzle of olive oil.

**Ideas for tweaking (and beyond): - spinach, feta, cherry tomatoes, basil - rainbow chard, pine nuts, goat cheese - cucumbers, red peppers, feta, mint - mushrooms, goat cheese, fresh thyme - pears, gorgonzola, walnuts