Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Slow Roasted Tomato Sauce - Outtake

I've made tomatoes scary before.  If you're not into that, or prefer not get upset about food, this is your opportunity to skip a post.  If you read this and figure I'm a giant wimp, you are absolutely correct.  Please proceed past the jump break. 

I have this fear of eggs.   Sometimes, I pick one up and it feels "off" - like the weight isn't right, and I have to set it aside and wait for Sous Chef Brian to crack it.   I don't want to find any surprises in my eggs.   This isn't eggs, it's tomatoes.  I was making that Slow Roasted Tomato Sauce and cutting up a lot of tomatoes.  I've seen bad tomatoes before - this isn't that.  

I'm pretty sure when I sliced this open I turned into a 12-year-old girl.  I don't have the transcript handy, but I said something like, "Ew, ew [maniacal laughter], Brian do you want to look?  You don't have to look.  Oh damn, ew [maniacal laughter] It's not spoiled, you can look if you want to, ew, do you want to look?"  All the while, flapping my hands and backing into the dining room. 

He looked.  He didn't react nearly as badly as I did, but he was slicing onions and his eyes get all watery.  He may have missed it. 


So I sliced off the end of the tomato, and that was pretty normal, and then my next slice was hollow.  And that was weird.  And then I looked inside. 

I think my tomato swallowed a strawberry.  Whole.  

I tried to be a grown-up about it.  I put it in the pile with the others.  For like two minutes.  Then I had to make this tomato go away.  

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