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Stewed Tomatoes — When the Last of the Harvest Deserves More Than One Meal

Labor Day. The third one since we were married. I've been thinking lately about how holidays accumulate meaning over time—how the first Thanksgiving married and the first Christmas married and the first Labor Day with a baby have these specific weights, and then you do them again and they have that weight plus the new one, compounding.

We did the Labor Day cookout at Meghan and Cormac's again. Their backyard, Cormac at the grill, Liam and Aidan on a blanket in the shade with Meghan's two older girls running around them. Liam is seventeen months and Aidan is five months and the age gap right now looks enormous and in four years will look like nothing. These things compress as they go.

I brought the tomatoes—the last of the fire escape harvest, eight of them, ripe and warm from the plant—and put them on the table and Cormac grilled them halved with olive oil and salt and they were, as always with really good tomatoes treated simply, the best thing on the table. I told Meghan about the fire escape garden and the whole summer of watching them and she said "next year I'm growing them too" and I said "fire escape or ground?" and she said "I have a backyard, Kate" and she's right, she does, and I felt the slight pang of someone who has been doing something the hard way when an easier way exists and who is nevertheless somewhat proud of the hard way.

September. School starting, fall coming, the year turning in the direction of its ending. Liam in his overalls in the yard saying "bug" at a cricket. We're all here.

I came home from Meghan and Cormac’s with two tomatoes left over—the ones that hadn’t quite made it onto the grill—and I couldn’t let them go to waste, not after a whole summer on the fire escape watching them turn. Grilling is the move when you have a crowd and a Cormac, but when it’s just me and a Tuesday night and the smell of September coming through the window, stewed tomatoes are the answer: slow, warm, the kitchen smelling like the end of something good. This is what I make when I want the season to last just a little longer.

Stewed Tomatoes

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 6 medium ripe tomatoes, cored and roughly chopped
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1 small yellow onion, diced
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 teaspoon sugar
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1/4 teaspoon dried oregano
  • 1/4 teaspoon dried basil
  • 1 tablespoon unsalted butter

Instructions

  1. Sauté aromatics. Heat olive oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Add the diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more.
  2. Add tomatoes. Add the chopped tomatoes to the pan along with the sugar, salt, pepper, oregano, and basil. Stir to combine.
  3. Simmer. Bring the mixture to a gentle simmer over medium heat, then reduce heat to medium-low. Cook uncovered, stirring occasionally, until the tomatoes have broken down and the liquid has thickened slightly, about 20 minutes.
  4. Finish. Remove from heat and stir in the butter until melted. Taste and adjust salt as needed. Serve warm as a side dish or over crusty bread.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 110 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 8g | Carbs: 10g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 300mg

Kate Donovan
About the cook who shared this
Kate Donovan
Week 180 of Kate’s 30-year story · Boston, Massachusetts
Kate is a thirty-five-year-old nurse practitioner in Boston and a widowed mother of two whose husband Sean died of brain cancer at thirty-three. She makes Irish soda bread and beef stew and shepherd's pie because the recipes are all she has left of a man who was supposed to grow old with her. She writes about cooking through grief and finding out you can still feed your children on the worst day of your life.

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