The truck smelled delicious when we next drove it, plus I can cook with the herbs.
Truck Dried Herbs and Truck Dried Tomatoes
June and July in Austin, Texas, have set records for the warmest 30-day periods from 1898 to 2009. There have been more days over 100̊F than most can remember. Well, if you can't lick the heat, you might as well take advantage of it. I was inspired to make Truck Dried Herbs by a recent article in the Austin newspaper.
Heat brings out the flavor of boring Juliet tomatoes.June and July in Austin, Texas, have set records for the warmest 30-day periods from 1898 to 2009. There have been more days over 100̊F than most can remember. Well, if you can't lick the heat, you might as well take advantage of it. I was inspired to make Truck Dried Herbs by a recent article in the Austin newspaper.
By Renee Studebaker , American Statesman Staff
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Lately, I've had a change of heart about the heat.
When I check the local forecast and see that several consecutive days of 100-plus temps are expected, I don't groan.
When I visit my neighborhood grocery store, I don't drive around searching, praying, for a tree-shaded parking spot. I just pull into the first hot, sunny place I see.
When I park my little truck in front of my house, I no longer curse the city for over-pruning my pecan tree and taking away my shady curbside parking.
And no, in case you're wondering, I'm not suffering from heat stroke. I'm sun-drying homegrown Juliet tomatoes - on a cloth-covered-baking sheet wedged between the windshield and the dashboard of my truck. Really.
Trying to harness the heat of the summer sun to cook things is nothing new. Maybe you know someone who has tried to fry an egg on a burning hot sidewalk. I know a few people who have experimented with dashboard cookies and cakes. Fun stuff to try and then laugh about.
But what I'm talking about here isn't just for laughs. I know, "truck-dried tomatoes" sounds just as gimmicky as "eggs over-easy on a hot sidewalk," but there's a difference. I'm actually using my little truck as a solar-powered oven, eating what I cook and even serving it to family and friends.
So much for tradition.
I considered drying my bumper crop of Juliet tomatoes in more traditional ways:
When I park my little truck in front of my house, I no longer curse the city for over-pruning my pecan tree and taking away my shady curbside parking.
And no, in case you're wondering, I'm not suffering from heat stroke. I'm sun-drying homegrown Juliet tomatoes - on a cloth-covered-baking sheet wedged between the windshield and the dashboard of my truck. Really.
Trying to harness the heat of the summer sun to cook things is nothing new. Maybe you know someone who has tried to fry an egg on a burning hot sidewalk. I know a few people who have experimented with dashboard cookies and cakes. Fun stuff to try and then laugh about.
But what I'm talking about here isn't just for laughs. I know, "truck-dried tomatoes" sounds just as gimmicky as "eggs over-easy on a hot sidewalk," but there's a difference. I'm actually using my little truck as a solar-powered oven, eating what I cook and even serving it to family and friends.
So much for tradition.
I considered drying my bumper crop of Juliet tomatoes in more traditional ways:
• On the lowest setting in a gas oven. In fact, I tried this and found that it produces a slightly superior-tasting dried tomato, with a deeper, more concentrated flavor. But I really hate to heat up the house if I don't have to.
• On a cheesecloth-covered screen in the backyard. With all the trouble I've had with critters stealing vegetables from the garden, this does not sound like a smart option. Sort of like setting out a picnic for the neighborhood squirrels and raccoons. And although the birds might not be able to uncover the tomatoes, I feel certain they would poop all over them trying.
• In an electric dehydrator. Don't have one and don't really want any more small electrical appliances. I have enough trouble as it is finding space to store my various processors and blenders.
So now back to the truck-drying method. As I said, it works really well. Maybe a little too well. I started drying my first batch of sliced and salted Juliets on a Saturday afternoon. By late-morning Sunday, the edges of the tomato halves were starting to curl. I moved the baking sheet to the passenger seat so it wouldn't capsize, drove to yoga class and parked in a sunny spot.
After class, the whoosh of hot air that hit me in the face when I opened the truck door smelled a little like pizza - minus the bread and Italian seasonings. I peeked under the cheesecloth and saw that the tomatoes were indeed drying and shrinking. The needle on the oven thermometer I had placed on the dashboard told me it was 150 degrees in the truck. By the end of the workday on Monday, when I climbed into the truck to drive home, the tomatoes were done. As I headed down Riverside Drive toward Interstate 35, I was bathed in the aroma of the little shrunken tomato bites. I decided to taste one. It was good. Very good. Dry, but still soft and pliable, with a satisfying burst of strong tomato flavor. I decided to have another. And then another.
Did I mention that after the tomatoes are dry they're really quite small? By the time I got home, I had eaten all but a small handful of the bite-size chewies. I would have to dry another batch before I would have enough to make the dried-tomato dish I had planned to photograph for this column. Luckily, I still had plenty of Juliets in the garden.
The Juliet - a little hybrid cousin of the Roma - is one of most reliable and prolific tomatoes I've ever grown. But when eaten fresh, it's not the best tasting. I would even describe it as bordering on bland, especially if compared with other homegrown favorites such as Celebrity, Sun Gold and Purple Cherokee, which I would never consider drying. In the garden, the Juliet is my emergency backup tomato. It is easy to grow - even in the heat- and it often produces until the first frost. (A bland homegrown tomato is still better than no homegrown tomato at all.)
But now that I know how easy it is to dry Juliets and how amazing they taste after they're dried, I plan to plant an extra Juliet in the fall garden. And when the weather cools, and the truck doesn't heat up enough to dry them, I'll use the oven.
• On a cheesecloth-covered screen in the backyard. With all the trouble I've had with critters stealing vegetables from the garden, this does not sound like a smart option. Sort of like setting out a picnic for the neighborhood squirrels and raccoons. And although the birds might not be able to uncover the tomatoes, I feel certain they would poop all over them trying.
• In an electric dehydrator. Don't have one and don't really want any more small electrical appliances. I have enough trouble as it is finding space to store my various processors and blenders.
So now back to the truck-drying method. As I said, it works really well. Maybe a little too well. I started drying my first batch of sliced and salted Juliets on a Saturday afternoon. By late-morning Sunday, the edges of the tomato halves were starting to curl. I moved the baking sheet to the passenger seat so it wouldn't capsize, drove to yoga class and parked in a sunny spot.
After class, the whoosh of hot air that hit me in the face when I opened the truck door smelled a little like pizza - minus the bread and Italian seasonings. I peeked under the cheesecloth and saw that the tomatoes were indeed drying and shrinking. The needle on the oven thermometer I had placed on the dashboard told me it was 150 degrees in the truck. By the end of the workday on Monday, when I climbed into the truck to drive home, the tomatoes were done. As I headed down Riverside Drive toward Interstate 35, I was bathed in the aroma of the little shrunken tomato bites. I decided to taste one. It was good. Very good. Dry, but still soft and pliable, with a satisfying burst of strong tomato flavor. I decided to have another. And then another.
Did I mention that after the tomatoes are dry they're really quite small? By the time I got home, I had eaten all but a small handful of the bite-size chewies. I would have to dry another batch before I would have enough to make the dried-tomato dish I had planned to photograph for this column. Luckily, I still had plenty of Juliets in the garden.
The Juliet - a little hybrid cousin of the Roma - is one of most reliable and prolific tomatoes I've ever grown. But when eaten fresh, it's not the best tasting. I would even describe it as bordering on bland, especially if compared with other homegrown favorites such as Celebrity, Sun Gold and Purple Cherokee, which I would never consider drying. In the garden, the Juliet is my emergency backup tomato. It is easy to grow - even in the heat- and it often produces until the first frost. (A bland homegrown tomato is still better than no homegrown tomato at all.)
But now that I know how easy it is to dry Juliets and how amazing they taste after they're dried, I plan to plant an extra Juliet in the fall garden. And when the weather cools, and the truck doesn't heat up enough to dry them, I'll use the oven.
rstudebaker@statesman.com; 445-3946
Orzo and Sun-Dried Tomatoes
1 cup uncooked orzo
2 quarts water
1-11/2 tsp. salt
1/4 cup pine nuts, toasted
3 Tbsp. olive oil
3-4 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed
6 or more pieces of fresh ginger, crushed
1 cup sun-dried tomatoes, cut in halves or quarters
1/4-1/2 cup basil, washed and torn
1/4-1/2 cup Italian flat-leaf parsley, washed and rough-chopped
Salt and pepper to taste
Bring the water to a boil. Add salt and then slowly add the orzo and stir. Reduce the heat and simmer uncovered for 10 minutes or until the pasta is al dente (not mushy).
While the orzo cooks, quickly toast the pine nuts in a dry pan until they have a little brown color to them. Remove them to a bowl for later. Add olive oil to the hot pan, then add the crushed garlic and ginger and reduce the heat. While the garlic and ginger release their flavors into the oil, cut up the sun-dried tomatoes. Wash the basil and parsley and tear the basil into pieces and give the parsley a rough chop.
When the orzo is cooked, drain the water from it and let it sit a moment while you remove the pieces of garlic and ginger from the oil. Add the drained orzo to the pan with the garlic-ginger-infused olive oil, followed by the tomatoes and heat through. Add the pine nuts, basil, parsley and salt and pepper to taste. Mix thoroughly. Serve hot or at room temperature.
Tastes even better the next day (if there's any left). Serves 2-4 as a side dish, depending on the serving size.
Note: This is an easy, quick dish to bring to potlucks; it's always a hit.
- Cecilia Nasti, gardener, foodie and producer ad host of the weekly gardening show `Growing Concerns' on KUT radio. Her Soil to Supper blog appears at foodfemmefirst.blogspot.com.
Truck-dried Tomato and Goat Cheese Torte with Basil Sauce
8 oz. creamy goat cheese (Wateroak Farms Chevre, available at Boggy Creek Farm, works great in this dish)
About 1/2 cup dried tomatoes, chopped fine (recipe follows)
8 1/2 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil, divided
1/4 tsp. fresh lemon juice
3/4 cups loosely packed sweet basil leaves
1 clove garlic, coarsely chopped
Sprig of fresh basil for garnish
Sea salt to taste
Cucumber slices
Baguette slices
Blend tomatoes, 4 Tbsp. oil and lemon juice in processor or blender (I like to use an immersion blender) and then refrigerate. Consistency should be like a thick paste with small bits of tomato still present. Spread 1/2 Tbsp. oil on bottom and sides of two small ramekins. Press a sheet of parchment paper or plastic wrap into each dish, with an inch or so of extra paper hanging over the sides. Spread and press evenly divided portions of the tomato paste into each dish. Next, spread and press goat cheese evenly on top of the tomato layer, until the dishes are almost full. Cover with foil or plastic wrap and chill for at least one hour, or as long as 24 hours if you're making this dish ahead of time. When you're ready to serve, puree basil leaves, remaining oil, garlic and a couple of pinches of sea salt until smooth and set aside. Remove covering from ramekin dishes, invert on serving plates and carefully pull away paper or wrap. Use a knife to smooth sides and top of cheese if necessary. Spoon basil sauce on top and garnish with basil sprig. Serve with sliced baguette and cucumber slices.
Note: This dish works well as an appetizer or a cold lunch. Depending on how dry your tomatoes are, you might want to add a little more oil. Taste your basil first to make sure it's sweet. (End-of-season basil that has had several rounds of blooms pinched off often develops a sharp, bitter flavor .)
- Renee Studebaker
Truck-dried Tomatoes
For oven-dried tomatoes, place sheet of tomatoes in oven at lowest setting possible. (I dried mine at 175 degrees). Takes about 8-10 hours.
Tomatoes are done when they're shriveled, about half their original size and no longer juicy. They should still be soft and pliable (Crispy, dried-out tomatoes aren't as tasty).
The dried tomatoes keep in the fridge for up to a week, or can be stored for up to 6 months in the freezer.
- Renee Studebaker
Slice Juliet tomatoes (or other small, meaty tomatoes) in half and place cut side up, not touching each other, on a baking sheet. Sprinkle with sea salt. Place a couple of orange juice-size glasses in the middle of the tray and drape cheesecloth or a thin flour-sack towel over the tomatoes. Wedge the baking sheet between the windshield and the dashboard, close the doors, roll up the windows and park in the sun. Time needed for tomatoes to dry varies depending on temperature, humidity and how many times you open and close the truck doors. Mine took about 21/2 days. Take your tomatoes in at night if a cool, humid night is expected. Otherwise, just leave them in the truck.