Tomato Kumato

Tomato sauce is one of those things that is worshiped by some and mindlessly eaten out of a can or jar for others. While I have nothing against some (emphasis on SOME) jarred tomato sauces, there is something so satisfactory about making your own. It’s a lot less expensive, and you can adjust the sauce to cater to your own tastes.

A lot of people try to follow a recipe for tomato sauce, but the best, and less daunting way to approach this Italian classic is through an outline of sorts.

1. Tomatoes

First of all, are you going to use canned or whole tomatoes? Your decision will affect the method you will use.

Either way is fine: my mother swears by San Marzano canned tomatoes and never makes her sauce with fresh, but even if you can’t afford San Marzano, regular canned, whole tomatoes (with no added flavoring) are great, even better than fresh tomatoes when they’re not in season.

However, if fresh tomatoes are in season, you may want to use those, and fresh tomatoes may take a bit more preparation.

2. Method

For the preparation of fresh tomatoes for tomato sauce, I’ve heard it done two ways: firstly, you can score the bottoms of the tomatoes (make an X about an inch long in the bottoms), quickly drop them into boiling water, remove them into cold water after a minute, and then remove the skins. Now the tomatoes can be used as canned tomatoes would be.

To make tomato sauce from either these prepared fresh tomatoes or canned tomatoes, simply heat some fat (olive oil, butter, bacon or sausage grease, or some combination) in a Dutch oven or other heavy-bottomed pot. When the fat is heated, add your aromatic vegetables (see below) and sweat (cook over medium-low heat until the veggies are cooked and transparent, but not browned.) Add your spices (not your herbs) as well as some salt, and cook for one minute to release the flavors. Add the tomatoes and herbs, and cook for about an hour. Use an immersion blender to achieve a more fluid consistency, or simply use a wooden spoon to break up the tomatoes and serve the sauce as more of a chunky, rustic dish.

This is my go-to method in the winter. It is a fine recipe (and the best method for canned tomatoes), however my preference for fresh tomato sauce is roasting: roasting tomatoes (along with aromatics like onions and garlic, which I’ll address in a minute) concentrates their flavors and brings an element to the sauce that is impossible to achieve in any other way. In the summer, my favorite tomato sauce is simply roasted tomatoes, onions and garlic with a little bit of olive oil and salt. When the mixture comes out of the oven, I use my immersion blender to achieve the correct consistency, and I mix in some salt and dried basil for flavor.

3. Aromatics

I’ve already addressed this slightly in the above paragraph, but it deserves a section of its own. What makes a great tomato sauce special isn’t just the tomatoes, but the aromatics added to them. Traditionally, onions and/or garlic can both play a role (some purists claim that onions and garlic should not both be in the same tomato sauce, but I’ve always made it that way, and I’m not changing my mind now.)

Other aromatics that can make their way into your tomato sauce are carrots, which add another dimension of sweetness, and celery, which, when combined with carrots and onions, makes up the Italian trifecta of vegetables known as soffrito (a sort of Italian version of the French mirepoix). Any and all of these veggies can make an appearance in your sauce, depending on what you like. Traditionally, celery is reserved for meat-based sauces, while the other three can appear even in a regular tomato sauce.

4. Herbs and Spices

Salt, of course, is number one in tomato sauce. Tomatoes just don’t taste like tomatoes without a bit of salt.

Aside from salt, though, what other spices and herbs can appear in tomato sauce?

Both black and red pepper bring a nice heat and spiciness to the sauce, but in different ways. I use a little bit of both in my sauce. I also sometimes cook some red pepper in a bit of olive oil and add a ladleful of my regular old tomato sauce to make a quick and easy version of an arabbiata, or spicy tomato sauce.

As far as herbs are concerned, both basil and oregano are traditional parts of Italian tomato sauces. I like to use the dried versions, reserving fresh for dishes like pesto, where the fresh truly make a difference. If you are lucky enough to have a garden, feel free to use fresh basil, but stick with dried oregano: the flavor is usually better.

Oregano is what makes pizza sauce taste different from regular tomato sauce: if you like that pizza sauce flavor and can’t figure out the missing ingredient in your homemade sauce, 9/10 times, what you’re missing is oregano. I usually don’t use it in my pasta sauce, but some people like the taste.

5. Extras

Other additional ingredients include tomato paste and sugar. Both ingredients are intended to strengthen the tomato flavor and cut the acidity of the tomatoes. If you’re using canned tomatoes, have a taste: they may taste a bit tinny, and sugar should take care of this problem. If your tomatoes are fresh, however, or the tinned tomatoes are of high quality, you can skip this ingredient.

I nearly always throw in a little extra tomato paste, for an extra kick of flavor, but this step is not on everyone’s list, and it can be skipped if you like.

Tomato sauce can be stored up to one week in your fridge, or up to a month in the freezer. Alternately, you can can the sauce and store it in your pantry for a year.

Yesterday, I addressed tapas, the traditional Spanish taster item that allows socializing at the bar to last well into the evening. Tapas have evolved from a mere bar snack to something gourmet: a sign of the fact that Barcelona is becoming a culinary capital in its own right.

However, with this title comes certain qualities, not all of them good. One of the unfortunate side effects of an increased popularity in the culinary culture of the city is the recent addition of nouvelle cuisine restaurants.

Don’t get me wrong: sometimes I love a tiny taster dish of something foamy, gelatine or powdered, just to keep up with the trends and to see if I can stumble upon anything truly creative. However, there comes a point when nouvelle cuisine goes too far, and I have to say that the steak-frites at Brown, a restaurant above Plaça Catalunya on the Rambla, is a prime example of this.

Brown comes off as a normal restaurant: a little fancy by Barcelona standards, maybe, but with normal menu items like pizza, pasta and steak-frites on the menu. The steak was lovely: perfectly cooked and seasoned. However, the steak was meant to be accompanied by fries. After he had downed one of Brown’s potent cocktails, my eating companion was looking forward to the large pile of fries that generally accompanies a steak in this sort of dinner situation.

There were, instead, four fries sitting in a perfectly constructed square next to the large steak. None of us quite knew what to say when the dish came out of the kitchen, and so the owner of the plate promptly reached down, picked one up, and took a bite. This was, of course, when the laughing and picture-taking began, thus the presence of three, rather than four, apparently delicious fries in my photo.

I understand small plates. I adore tapas. But there comes a point when it’s just too much, or in this case, too few, and fries are one of those food items when more is almost always better than less.

I am one of those people who, when in a restaurant, often ends up choosing at the last minute. Yeah… “Can you come to me last?” That’s me.

I know it’s annoying to others, but I can’t help it. There are always so many things on the menu I want to taste! When I was a vegetarian for a year, I was briefly relieved of this issue: there are seldom many vegetarian choices on most menus. However, when I came back to the dark (read: meat-eating) side, it was even worse. I am famous for always picking the best thing on the menu, but it often takes me a while to get there.

Not a problem at Txapela. This (difficult to pronounce) restaurant in Barcelona serves one thing: tapas.

As with most restaurants that specialize in one particular area, Txapela does tapas very well. You are presented with a menu of assorted tapas with both pictures and descriptions in order to make your decisions. Much in the vein of a sushi bar, you can order as much as you want to start, slowly ordering more and more if you are still hungry.

Alex and I visited Txapela in Plaça Catalunya when we were visiting Barcelona a few weeks ago. So as not to embarass him, I only took a few pictures.

This was one of my favorites. It was foie gras on applesauce served with fresh chives sprinkled over the top. I loved the combination of sweet and rich, and it was the perfect size for such a bite.

I try patatas bravas whenever they are offered, so I had to see how Txapela’s version measured up. The potatoes themselves were perfect: perfectly fried and hot, with just enough salt. To me, the sauce was a little bit too mayonnaise-y and didn’t pack the heat I usually love, but Alex loved the sauce and dipped his bread in it.

This was a cold, marinated octopus popsicle, of sorts. It was served with a mix of vegetables also marinated in the same acidic sauce. This one was delicious: the octopus perfectly tender and the veggie and marinade mix a perfect complement.

Other tapas that we sampled included melted brie with a spicy tomato sauce, a bite of filet mignon steak and spanish tortilla with baccala, or salted cod. Dessert was tapas-style as well, and though Alex was surprised to see that the ice cream he ordered could be finished in two or three bites, I was happy with my “cheesecake,” a slice of cheesy custard the consistancy of Jell-o with blueberry compote on top. I could get used to a restaurant where everything is bite-sized: no more decision making!

I would pay a lot of money to be served this soup in a restaurant… which is quite frightening considering the fact that it cost me about 2 euros to pay for the ingredients. Eating this soup made me wonder how many times I’ve been tricked into paying 20 euros for something that barely cost the restaurant anything at all… but in the end, I just didn’t care.

I was so inspired by this recipe that it launched a two-week experiment in soups made with my trusty immersion blender… and it also inspired this week’s post over at Accidental Hedonist. I’ve tried several different soups this week and have met a lot of success (don’t worry… those recipes are coming.)

I’ve noticed that often, carrots are paired with ginger to make a soup. The reviews over at Epicurious, where I found the original recipe, suggested adding ginger and garlic to make the soup more flavorful… but for once I decided to forgo the reviews and go with the original, and I’m so glad I did! The sweetness of the carrots combined with the unexpected but complimentary flavor of tarragon was a novel idea. If you’re worried that there won’t be enough flavor, you could consider roasting the carrots to bring out more of their natural sweetness, but I adored the soup as-is.

Carrot-Tarragon Soup (Adapted from Bon Appétit)
1 teaspoon butter
1 teaspoon olive oil
1/2 pound carrots, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 onion, chopped
1 cup water

1/8 cup orange juice
1 teaspoon Scotch whiskey
1 tablespoon dried tarragon

salt and pepper

Heat the butter and olive oil over high heat in a skillet. Add the onion and a pinch of salt, and sauté until softened and slightly browned. Add the carrots and cook together for two minutes. Add the water and bring to a boil. Cover and reduce the heat, and cook until the carrots are soft.

Using an immersion blender, blend the carrots and onions together. Add the tarragon, orange juice, whiskey and a generous amount of black pepper. Cook together over low heat for five minutes. Taste to check for seasonings.