I’ll admit it, I’m scared. Yesterday, I read the NY Times Sunday Magazine. This issue focused on health. There was an article on what happens to everyone, not just air traffic controllers when they get inadequate sleep. There was another article highlighting how sitting shaves years off of your life. Finally, there was the whopper, an article about the dangers of pure sweet—S-U-G-A-R.
The article makes no differences between the white crystallized stuff or high fructose corn syrup. It doesn’t say so in the article, but I think it doesn’t matter if you use agave nectar, honey, or maple syrup. The bottom line is there are a couple of prominent cancer researchers and others in the field of child obesity who won’t consume sugar.
The problem is we are hard-wired for sweet. A very long time ago, before we learned to process sugar, we had to rely on the occasional honey pot from bees or just wild berries. Now we can eat it at will, and we do eat it., frequently disguised in our foods.
Today’s dish is an ode to summer, the sweetness of summer, while we still get snow in April here in Chicago.
Slow Roasted Tomatoes, adapted from Martha Stewart
Ingredients (yes, there's no mistake, only 2)
2 pints of cherry tomatoes, halved
Fresh basil, chiffonade
Pre-heat oven to 250 degrees. Line cookie sheet with parchment paper.
Place halved tomatoes cut-side up in a single layer on the cookie sheet.
This can take a long time, depending on how juicy your tomatoes are, but start checking them at about the 2 hour mark.
The tomatoes are done when there is no more apparent moisture in them when you bite into one.
The beauty of this dish is it does NOT require peak of summer tomatoes in order to be sublime. You can take those lovely looking (they rarely taste great) cherry tomatoes, or a larger variety, and swear at the end of roasting that you plucked these off the vine in August.
What do you do with them? They never last long enough in our house to require packing in oil, but if you don’t eat them fast enough then sure, place them in a container and cover them with oil. We eat them plain, like raisins or pop them in salads, on sandwiches, wherever one wants a true taste of summer perfect tomatoes.