After a long gap I am harvesting tomatoes in sizable quantities this summer that require processing. Yes, the monkeys have been kind enough to share with us. I have been harvesting around 3/4 of a kilo every two days. The strategy is to harvest them the moment they start to show the slightest bit of colour. Sorry, no vine-ripened tomatoes for us, lest the monkeys get more than they leave for us. Left in the basket they ripen in a couple of days.
I have made two batches of marinara, and who knows, I just might succumb and make ketchup too. It’s just a tad too much work for the likes of me. But miracles do happen.
Marinara can be a hit and miss for many as the quality of tomatoes is inconsistent and most of the time we wing it rather than follow a recipe. Many of you messaged me on Instagram asking for my recipe. When I made the second batch I took care to measure the ingredients which there are few of. Go ahead and make it with the bounty of tomatoes currently in season. Don’t tell me you don’t have the time. 🙂 Make the most of the lock-down; it will be behind us soon and we be back to our sordid ways again.
I don’t fuss with peeling the tomato skins by blanching or processing the tomatoes through a food-mill. Lock-down or not, I have better things to do with my time. I didn’t plant any Italian basil this past winter so I had none for the sauce. Do add a few leaves if you can get some or use whatever fresh herbs you have available. Use dried herbs if you don’t have fresh ones. Make it your own. I used rosemary and marjoram from my garden and didn’t miss the basil at all. You can always add other herbs to your dish later.
Hot, hot. It’s a dry sauna in here! You could actually fry an egg on the sidewalk. And yet some things, native plants and creatures, thrive in this heat. At the moment, I am functioning with hardly any house-help. Kumari is away (for more than a month now) to her village in Bihar; Babloo, the presswala (for those who may not know, the chap who wields the “press” or iron, to iron our clothes!), also from Bihar, went away for a few weeks to make the most of his children’s summer vacations (he got back this morning!). He was also filling in for Chandu, who comes weekday mornings to wipe down the cars. So, I have had my hands more than full. The gardener, though in town, was a bit down in spirits, and there I was, watering the plants every other scorching evening. Yes, it doesn’t cool down even in the evenings. It become less hot, but never cool, till the monsoons arrive. No wonder we make so much song and dance about the Monsoon Season; yes, it is its own season – Saavan – in these parts, and much celebrated in Indian literature, paintings, and music.
On that first evening when I picked up the hose, I also decided to turn the pots to get even light on the less exposed sides. And, there was this tiny nest in the Ficus in the corner! The mystery of the chirpy sunbirds tailorbirds every morning explained! I rotated the plant back, so that the nest continued to stay hidden. A few days later, I became the anxious “carer” not having spotted the parents birds all afternoon and believing the nest to have been abandoned. I took a peek, and there they were, four tiny hatchlings in the nest! Google came to the rescue as always and I researched on how many hours hatchlings can survive without parent attention. I learned, with a heavy heart, that it is best to leave them alone and not care for them even if they have been abandoned. Ah, but come evening, there she was, the mother tailorbird! All was well after all. I resolved to take no more peeks lest I scare the parents to abandon their babies.