Tomato-and-Okra Cornmeal Cakes are prizes for being sneaky

Every morning we square off against the birds in our pursuit of vine-ripened tomatoes from our garden. Huge black birds watch those vines scrupulously. Let one green tomato get the slightest hint of a blush on it, and the birds swoop in for a tasty treat. 

I had to be sneaky, but by looking carefully near the ground, where they weren’t so obvious to the hungry winged creatures, I rescued about 1 pound of small, slightly pinkish tomatoes so I could make this divine recipe. I lined my finds up on my window ledge until they ripened to a pretty red in color.

Tomato-and-Okra Cornmeal Cakes were just as cute as they could be and so imaginative. They might have been designed to be appetizers, but Hubby and I made full meals out of then for several evenings in a row. 

Besides the okra I tossed in some chopped yellow squash for the cornmeal patty. Pimiento cheese is my middle name, so turning up a cheese spread for the second layer wasn’t tough at all. (The source of this recipe says that in this step, you also can use whipped cream cheese or goat cheese.) On top went the rescued tomatoes, which were just gorgeous all sliced up. Fresh basil from my herb patch crowned it all.

Big black birds, you lose! Hubby and I win big; this was a great dish! 

Tomato-and-Okra Cornmeal Cakes

2 cups plain yellow cornmeal

2 teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon fine sea salt

1 large egg (or 1/4 cup egg substitute)

1/2 cup water

1 garlic clove

1/2 pound fresh okra, thinly sliced

1 jalapeno pepper, seeded and finely chopped

1/4 cup canola oil

kosher salt (or salt substitute)

arugula

1 pound small tomatoes, cut into 1/4-inch-thick slices

fresh basil leaves

pimiento cheese spread of your choice

In a large bowl whisk together first 3 ingredients. Whisk together egg and 1/2 cup water; add to cornmeal mixture. Whisk until smooth. Smash garlic to make a paste. Stir okra, jalapeno, and garlic paste into cornmeal mixture. (Batter will be thick and will thicken even more as it sits, so add water, if needed.) In a large cast-iron skillet over medium heat, heat 1 tablespoon oil. Into skillet pour 1 tablespoon batter for each cake; gently flatten the batter into a 2-inch cake. (Don’t overcrowd the cakes in the skillet.) Cook 2 to 3 minutes or until tops are covered with bubbles. Turn and cook 2 to 3 more minutes. Transfer cakes to a paper-towel-lined plate. Season with kosher salt and pepper. Keep cakes warm in a 200-degree oven. Repeat procedure with remaining batter and oil. Spread each cake with about 1 teaspoon pimiento cheese. Top with arugula, tomato, basil, kosher salt, and pepper. Makes 16 appetizer servings. (Source: Southern Living July 2012)

Fried Green Tomatoes take the edge off waiting on those vines

What to do when the tomato vines are loaded with mouth-watering tomatoes but they’re all the color of St. Augustine grass? If God didn’t love Fried Green Tomatoes, he would have made the red ones first.

Waiting out the green-into-red ripening cycle, I grabbed the Fried Green Tomatoes recipe from my new Cooking on the Home Front cookbook that I mentioned having bought at the Pearl Harbor gift shop earlier this month. In WWII days victory gardens were the source of many meatless meals. Clearly a plate of Fried Green Tomatoes was a dinner-table staple then as homemakers everywhere (not just in the South, although this typically is thought to be a Southern dish) got creative with their produce.

I love these crispy fried slices of green, especially as they’re smeared in ketchup. I used whole-wheat bread crumbs (day-old bread whisked in a blender) for my first batch but switched to Panko (Japanese bread crumbs) for the second. That switch made them extra-crispy.

We couldn’t get enough of these; the next day, we dived into the leftovers and ate them cold straight out of the refrigerator. The tomatoes on our vines don’t seem to be in a big hurry to ripen, so I imagine plenty more Fried Green Tomatoes will be destined for our table.

Fried Green Tomatoes

6 large green tomatoes

1 tablespoon sugar (or sugar substitute)

1/2 teaspoon pepper

1 teaspoon salt (or salt substitute)

1 egg, well-beaten (or 1/4 cup egg substitute)

1/2 cup bread crumbs

Wash tomatoes; cut into 1/2-inch slices. Soak slices for 1 hour in cold salted water. Add sugar, pepper, and salt to the beaten egg. Dip each tomato slice in mixture and then in bread crumbs. In skillet fry on both sides in hot oil (I used extra-virgin olive oil) until tomatoes are brown. Makes 6 servings.

  

"Greata"-Tomato-Feta stems tide of tomato deluge

They have us on the run now.

For days we watched for the first green tomatoes to appear on the vines so I could haul them in for Green Gazpacho Soup and other "easy-to-be-green" recipes. Then we eagerly waited for a few to redden so we could slice them and serve them fresh on sandwiches.

Now we're in the typical mid-summer tomato deluge. (Be careful what you pray for.) They're cropping up on the vines faster than we can work them into recipes.

I know, I know. Instantly I could polish a bundle of them off by setting out to put up some of my cousin Jana's Picante Sauce (requiring 5 quarts of tomatoes) or homemade Tomato Sauce (18 tomatoes) that I recommend in my new cookbook, Way Back in the Country Garden.

On some other week that might be a great idea. But this is the week of our daughter's baby shower--with deadlines and responsibilities and houseguests in town to observe the impending arrival of that sweet baby boy. Not the week to undertake a leviathan canning effort, although I'd love to do so soon.

That's why I was thrilled to find the recipe for Tomato Feta Pie (spiel off the recipe title fast and you'll sound like a server at an Italian restaurant). It calls for four large beefsteak tomatoes--truthfully, after I sampled the finished product, the recipe just as easily could have called for six tomatoes instead of four. Preparing it and carving into my tomato supply quickly provided some extra space on refrigerator's produce shelf.

The result (some fresh onions from our garden joined the fresh tomato slices in the recipe) produced a quiche-looking dish without the crust. Hubby cut him a slice of the finished "pie" and served it to himself cold. I heated mine in the microwave until it was bubblin' good.

What a clever, wonderful idea for fresh tomato usage!

The recipe, featured below, was one of the two top tomato recipes recommended in my oft-quoted "Celebrating a Healthy Harvest" recipe book. No, it didn't clear out all the tomatoes in my garden, but the summer's still young, relatively speaking, with hopefully more days ahead-- unless little expected grandboy arrives earlier than his August due date--for grinding up bunches of tomatoes into salsa.

If he does, instead of baking this Tomato Pie we just may see if we can find a recipe for Tomato Cake and celebrate.

Tomato Feta Pie

4 beefsteak tomatoes (2 1/2 pounds), cut into 1/4-inch slices

1/4 cup finely chopped onion

1/2 cup (2 ounces) feta cheese

2/3 cup (3 ounces) reduced-fat mozzarella cheese, grated

2 large eggs, beaten (we use egg substitute)

2 teaspoons dried oregano

pepper

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Spray a 9-inch pie plate with nonfat cooking spray. Arrange 1/3 of the tomato slices (overlapping them) to cover the bottom of the pie place. Over the tomatoes sprinkle one-half of the onion. Sprinkle on one-third of the feta and mozzarella cheese. Repeat for a total of three tomato layers. In a bowl combine the eggs and oregano. Pour over the pie. Sprinkle on the remaining feta and mozzarella cheeses. Sprinkle pepper on top of all. Bake for 40-50 minutes or until the egg mixture is set and the cheeses on top are bubbling and deep brown. Let the pie sit 30 minutes; cut into wedges and serve warm.

Cooking just like his mom netted wonderful baked-tomato recipe

What woman alive hasn't been in the spot of needing to learn to prepare some food item "just like Mom"--especially when the Mom you're wanting to emulate happens to belong to your hubby?

Such was the case early in my own married life, when my hubby forever seemed to be extolling his mother's ability to fix Baked Tomatoes (and their related item, Breaded Tomatoes).

Doing something with tomatoes other than simply slicing them for a tossed salad wasn't part of my cooking repertoire. Yet he mentioned this matter often: "I sure would like to have some tomatoes like my mother made."

I am thankful that I was not without resources. During part of my years as a newspaper reporter I was privileged that my office "cubby" adjoined that of Ann Criswell, the legendary and internationally regarded food editor of the Houston Chronicle. Despite her acclaim Ann was as approachable and helpful as the day is long; she heard my plight about being a non-cook of tomatoes and dug through her recipes to help me find something that reasonably sounded as though they were the type of thing on which my husband dined in his youth.

Last evening for our dinner we were blessed with some huge, red tomatoes just plucked from our garden's own tomato vines. Without a second thought I knew what my hubby would suggest if I asked him, "What should we fix with these tomatoes tonight?"

I dug out one of my tomato recipes that Ann Criswell scoured her collection and helped me find. (The companion recipe for Breaded Tomatoes appears in my new cookbook, Way Back in the Country Garden. The secret ingredient for that recipe, by the way, was sugar. My mother-in-law applied more than just a "dash" to any vegetable recipe she prepared. To further emulate her, I'll often add that spoonful of sugar to vegetables just as she did, except I make sure it's sugar substitute.)

My recipe for Baked Tomatoes that appears below and along with fried zucchini (the first two zucchini from our this-year's vines) served with a little ketchup made a delightful summer meal last night. Fresh back from our 18-hour drive home from Phoenix, we were weary of "road food" and glad to settle down to a meal of just-veggies. The wonderful flavor of the tomatoes with seasoned breading on top made me glad my hubby pressed for me to learn to cook tomatoes "just like Mom."

Baked Tomatoes

4 medium tomatoes

1/4 teaspoon salt (we used salt substitute)

1/8 teaspoon pepper

parmesan cheese

1/2 cup soft bread crumbs, toasted

1/2 teaspoon dried parsley

2 cloves garlic, minced (or 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder)

1/4 teaspoon dried thyme

1/'4 teaspoon dried oregano

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

Cut tomatoes in half horizontally and remove core. Place tomato halves in a lightly greased 11-inch by 7-inch baking dish. Sprinkle salt, pepper, and parmesan over cut surface of each tomato half. Combine next six ingredients and mix well. (If you like extra breading, you may double the ingredients in this part of the recipe). Bake at 350 degrees for 15-18 minutes or until tomatoes are thoroughly heated and bread topping is brown. Makes 8 servings.

Don't let the title fool you; "mid-summer" salad recipe with ingredients fresh from the garden is perfect any time

The recipe's name was "Mid-Summer Salad", but who says it can't make a good meal in early summer as well?

As I prepared this recipe for a June evening meal, I couldn't help but wish I were doing so on a mid-summer date a few weeks hence. That would mean that our expected baby grandson would be very near his arrival time. Wa-hoo! We can hardly wait! Now that will be a cause for celebration! But back to "Mid-Summer Salad."

"Mid-Summer" in the recipe name perhaps refers to the fact that some of the ingredients, such as the tomatoes and cucumber, would be reaching their peak in the garden in mid-summer and hence would be available for salad-making about that time.

Regardless of the trivia about the name, Mid-Summer Salad was memorable and delicious. (Thanks to my booklet, Celebrating a Healthy Harvest, from the Chickasaw Nutrition Services, which contained the recipe.) In preparing it I learned two things:

* Green onions, fresh from our garden (they're really just the tops of regular onions), add an incredible zest to a salad mixture. In this recipe they're part of the dressing. They really make this salad sing. The one-tablespoon mustard added to the dressing adds to the flavor as well.

* Keep the cut-up avocado in a salad from turning brown by dumping the seed right into the salad mixture. The presence of the seed keeps the avocado green. (I learned this on Sunday from Ishmael's mom, who attended--and brought homemade Guacamole for--our backyard fiesta. I wrote about this in my Monday blog about my "new-beginnings" Peach Cobbler. As I scooped out my Guacamole helping onto my plate, a medium-sized seed plopped right onto the plate with it. Margarita told me she puts seeds in all her guacamole. Indeed it was the brightest, freshest green color imaginable.) Of course many people sprinkle a cut avocado with lemon or white vinegar to prevent browning.

Many people also know the tip that to ripen an avocado, place the fruit in a brown paper bag in a cool place for two to five days. Daily check for ripeness. Refrigerate ripe avocados; use within three days.

I added the avocado seed to my mixture for my Mid-Summer Salad. Truly the avocado stayed bright green and never turned brown even hours after the salad had been in the refrigerator. Thanks, Margarita, for the suggestion!

Because of the addition of the diced chicken breast, Mid-Summer Salad--served with some warmed tortillas on the side (also left over from Sunday's fiesta)--made an ideal entree for a light summer meal. Here's to Mid- (or in the case of our salad, Early) Summer!

Mid-Summer Salad

8 cups mixed greens (we used spinach)

2 eggs, hard-boiled, chopped

1/2 pound cooked boneless chicken breast, diced

2 tomatoes, diced

1 cucumber, sliced

1 avocado, diced

Dressing:

2 tablespoons vinegar

2 tablespoons diced green onions

1 tablespoon mustard

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon black pepper

2 tablespoons cooking oil

Mix dressing ingredients in a small container. In a large salad bowl mix and toss greens, eggs, chicken breast, tomatoes, cucumber, and avocado. Add dressing and toss thoroughly. Chill and serve. Makes 4 servings.

"Essence of summer" food must-have list just got a new addition

Some foods literally exude summer. Everyone has his or her faves, but my "essence of summer" foods are lemon ice-box pie, strawberry shortcake, marinated cucumber salad, and calico beef burgers, to name a few.

They're the menu items that I just can't "do" the summer season without. So early on, I start making a mental list to be sure I'm not having to cram in some last-minute gorging as the season wanes.

A new quintessential summer dish moved onto my radar screen this week. I wasn't looking for a summer synonym--but simply something to use the ample ears of corn my hubby brought home from Kroger this week because the produce area had it at a good sale price. (The corn in our garden is materializing but isn't quite as high as an elephant's eye yet, so we're still supplementing from the grocery until we bring in our own corn ears.)

So I stumbled on a recipe for "Avocado Salsa". I thought the mingling of avocados, cherry tomatoes, and fresh corn sounded, well, colorful at least. Like several other recipes I've mentioned in this blog, this one inspired skepticism also. "It just seems like it would need some kind of a dressing," I reported to Hubby as I assembled the ingredients.

Interesting role-reversal. He's usually the one who raises a dubious eyebrow about whether a recipe will "work". This time he was the Encouraging Barnabas of the kitchen. "I bet the lime juice is all it needs," he assessed as he scanned the salsa recipe in the "Celebrating a Healthy Harvest" booklet from the Chickasaw Nation.

He was right. The lime juice, mixed with the salt and chopped cilantro, worked miracles on the avocado, tomato, and corn combination (and even more so the second day after the concoction refrigerated overnight.)

The result! "Avocado Salsa", which we served over spinach but also could be an appetizer alongside tortilla chips--became instant, edible summer--a new dish perfect for summer staple events such as picnics, family reunions, church potlucks, lunches at the lake, or as we experienced it--a simple summer dinner-for-two at home.

Avocado Salsa

2 avocados, peeled, seeded, and chopped

2 pints cherry or grape tomatoes, quartered

1 cup corn, cooked and cut off cob

3 tablespoons chopped cilantro

3 tablespoons lime juice

1 teaspoon salt (we use salt substitute)

Combine avocado, tomatoes, corn, and cilantro; toss. Slowly pour lime juice over the salsa and toss to combine. Chill for 1 hour to allow the flavors to blend.

To avoid the drab, even farmwives of yesteryear needed help with recipe inspiration

What do I do with all this stuff?

You've had an exhilarating day at the farmer's market and returned with a backseat-load of produce--colorful, healthy, and diverse.

Or, your trip to your garden plot has yielded a potpourri basketful of bits and pieces--some random okra, a few corn ears, a handful of tomatoes, an onion here and there--not enough to stock a cellar with canned goods but never-so-fresh-as-now and calling to be prepared and eaten.

What to do? Where do you go for inspiration?

Farmwives of the past, believe it or not, faced the same dilemma.

We tend to regard women of bygone days--when gardens were a necessity and when frugal food preparation meant the difference between survival and starvation for some families--as born wise in the "how-to" department. We tend to think of granny ladies of that era as people who hatched out mature and well-versed in automatically knowing how to use their garden produce.

Enter our Aunt Frances and her first job out of high school.

As a young woman entering the work world in Delta County, TX, Aunt Frances was hired by the county extension agent as an office helper. Her job was to type the recipes that the agent then carried to rural homes throughout the region. The recipes were welcome helps to farmwives who were stumped about how to use their garden pickin's so they didn't have to fix the "same-old, same-old" for supper. (An entire chapter, "Downtown", is devoted to this in my new cookbook, Way Back in the Country Garden.)

An example of the kind of recipes Aunt Frances would type--and also tuck away for the eventual day she, as a married lady, would be queen of her own kitchen--is today's feature: Sauteed Okra, Corn, and Tomatoes. A few evenings ago, when we brought in just "a bit of this and a bit of that" from our garden, this dish was a perfect medley. As I mentioned in my blog post, "Fresh vegetables unadorned make for some delightful seasoned greetings", Hubby and I always are incredulous how the fresh vegetables season themselves--with only limited salt and pepper recommended to be added--yet how immensely flavorful!

What the county extension office did in Aunt Frances' day is the same kind of help the Chickasaw Nation Nutrition Services office provides today to help Chickasaws learn to cook more healthily and to use homegrown produce. My hubby and I stand amazed each time we visit our closest Chickasaw offices in Ardmore, OK. The nutrition-services building has free recipe cards on display in its entry. Live food demos are scheduled several times a day; they feature test kitchen and personnel to show how recipes on the freebie cards are prepared.

(Of course in today's Internet age, merely "Googling" the names of ingredients you have also can turn up a wealth of ideas as well.)

Hubby and I enjoyed our Sauteed Okra, Corn, and Tomatoes for dinner alongside Sauteed Zucchini and Fettuccini (featured in Wednesday's blog). The fact that we had this okra medley recipe in our collection (thanks to Aunt Frances, who by the way died a year ago at age 102) made us really happy that those farmwives of yesteryear needed a little help now and then!

Sauteed Okra, Corn, and Tomatoes

2 pounds fresh okra, with stems and tips removed

3 pounds tomatoes, skinned and seeded

8 ears fresh corn

2 tablespoons butter

2 tablespoons oil

4 cups onions, coarsely chopped

1 tablespoon salt (we used salt substitute)

freshly ground pepper

Cut okra into 1/4-inch rounds; discard tops. This should make about 6 cups of okra. Put tomatoes in stainless or enameled pan and cook slowly for about half an hour. Do not scorch. Drain any liquid. This should make about 2 cups of tomatoes. Use sharp knife to cut corn from cob. In a skillet heat butter and oil. Add okra and onions. Cook until onions are wilted and okra has begun to brown at edges, about 10-15 minutes. Turn often; add reduced tomatoes and salt; cook 5 minutes. Add corn and cook 3-4 more minutes. Add salt and pepper; season to taste.