Student Blog

The Zen of Homemade Tomato Sauce

"I got lots of seconds if you really want 'em, and for cheap!" the farmer's wife says. I take another bagful. Bruised, imperfect, unsightly to some, but not me. Their inner flesh holds summer in its folds and time to capture it has come. I lug at least three dozen to the car.

My wife doesn't relish the job of par-boiling to get the skins off and removing the snot and seeds. A good hour or more of dissecting. Aches the back. Trashes the sink and stovetop. But she knows what's in store at afternoon's end simmering and mellowing that tender meat of summer's flavors. 

There's no crayon for the hue in these pots. An earthy perfume wafts through the home. Onion and garlic. Peppers and wine. And the last of those herbs saying, "I'm done, get me in there." 

Man, wife, plants, everyone doing their part. A task, yes, and so fulfilling. When making sauce, I always feel my father's spirit: "Stir it or you don't eat!" he'd bark. Love and family and the cycles of life. Right now, such anticipated delight makes the whole world feel complete.

This time two kinds - mega basil and zesty pepper. 

Oh, I'll have trouble choosing tonight.

And when family and friends taste their requisite batch,

the essence of summer captured will go its appropriate way.