Tomato & Onion Jam

For a vegetable that was once thought to be poisonous, tomatoes have sure come a long way.

Thought at various points in history to be the sole domain of the poor, the Italians or the Central Americans, tomatoes are now used in a staggering array of dishes across all cultures. This is hardly surprising to a die-hard tomato fan like me.

Tomatoes are so many good things at once: tart, sweet, tangy, juicy, smooth and vibrantly coloured. They smell and taste like summer all juicy, and warm with sunshine.

Every summer my mother's garden would change slightly from the last year, instead of last year's beans there would be peas, or baby carrots instead of last season's beets (which,as a child, was totally okay with me...I hated beets). Whatever other vegetables my mother planted and grew, tomatoes were always the highlight of the garden. My mother's red tomaotes, beefsteaks mainly, found their way into most of our summer suppers, and we never tired of them. Truth be told, my sister and I probably prized them more for their satisfying squish when we threw them at the dog.

My childhood was full of salads of tomatoes still warm from the garden. Mum would send me out the back door, mixing bowl in hand, to pick tomatoes and maybe an onion and a few leaves of lettuce for a fresh summer salad.  I'd bring the vegetables back in to the kitchen, along with a bonus layer of mud up to my knees or a gross bug or something. I'd watch mum slice the tomatoes, juice oozing out, and arrange the slices on our plates in a very 1970's cookbook kind of way.  Which, well, it was the 70's and my mum belonged to every one of those recipe card clubs, so, there you go.

We'd carry the plates outside and eat at the white metal patio table with the sauve seventies brown-striped umbrella. Mum would have a glass of wine with her supper and my sister and I would misbehave by kicking each other under the table and sticking our tongues out and pinching each other as hard as we could.  The evening air would be  perfect and warm and full of our laughter and cries of "STOP IT. Mum, She's touching me again.", and "OOOOWWWWWWW!"  The backyard had a particular summer smell: dirt heated by the daytime sun, moist green grass and the fruit trees in our yard.

Mum fed not only our tummies on those evenings, but our little kid souls as well. Who knew that being teased and kicked by my older sister would be part of my fondest memories of childhood? If you'd told me at the time (or any time before I was out of my teens really) I would have thought you were nuts. I hope when I have my own kids, they beat the crap out of each other the way we did. Or rather the way my sister did to me. Because I would never do that sort of thing. Really. Plus, she was bigger.

I must have inherited my mother's tomato-planting gene. All those years I lived in apartments I always had a cherry tomato plant on the balcony. My ferns would perish horribly and my marigolds would wilt, neglected, but my tomatoes would be showered with love and would produce enormous quantities of those juicy buggers that explode satisfyingly in your mouth. My own garden (the first proper one I've ever had) now contains no less than 5 varieties and well over half its total of 800 square feet is taken up by tomatoes! In our family, the tomato-growing genes run deep. Too bad they are linked to the too much shopping gene.

Until my own tomatoes are ready, I have been indulging myself every Saturday morning at the Strathcona farmers market by purchasing 3 or four pounds of dense, heavy, plump tomatoes in red, yellow and orange. I must admit I purchase them as much for their perfect round brightness as I do for their taste! They do double duty in my house, sitting perched in a white ceramic bowl for a few days before being devoured. This week, they lasted so beautifully and work was so busy that I didn't get a chance to do anything with them until Friday night. By 8pm on the last day of the work week, I was feeling quite a lot like a nice glass or wine, some crusty french bread and cheese. I gambled that the perfect tomato dish to accompany my feet-curled-up-under-me-on-the-sofa- reading-a-good-book kind of feeling was a sweet tomato and onion jam, spread thickly on freshly toasted French baguette and topped with slivers of Applewood smoked cheddar.

I was right.

Coincidentally, it also made for an excellent breakfast in bed (with these little guys) the next day.

If you want to be a real purist, you can peel and seed the tomatoes. These tomatoes are so beautiful and fresh and their skin so tender, that I didn't bother. Besides, I really like the farmhouse appeal of using the whole, unpeeled, unseeded tomatoes.

Tomato and Onion Jam

• 1 tbsp good olive oil
• 300 grams sliced sweet onion
• 4  large garlic cloves, crushed and chopped
• 1/2 tablespoon grated fresh ginger root
• 1 - 1/2 teaspoons sea salt
• 1 - 1/2 teaspoons fresh ground pepper
• 2 tablespoons good quality balsamic vinegar
• 2 tablespoons lemon juice
• 1/3 cup brown sugar
• 7 large ripe tomatoes, chopped roughly (about 4 cups)
• 1 cup water

Add olive oil and onions to a non-stick pan over low to medium heat, cook and stir until softened and well browned, about 10 minutes. Add garlic and cook and stir 5 minutes more. Add all the rest of the ingredients, except tomatoes and water. Cook and stir until bubbly, about 5 minutes. Add tomatoes and water, heat until bubbly, reduce heat to low, and cook, covered, stirring occasionally for 30 minutes. Remove cover, increase heat to medium high and cook, stirring until liquid reduces and mixture becomes jammy in consistency, about 15 minutes. Pour into a clean 1L jar or plastic container to cool. Refrigerated, this jam will keep for about a week. Spread thinly on crusty bread and top with cheese. It would also make a fantastic accompaniment to an omelet or any other dish where you might use a vegetable chutney.

Comments

[clare eats]

I have tagged you for the 5 cookbook cooking meme :)

[Melissa]

Wow - that looks fantastic! I used to eat cheese and mango chutney on bread, but I imagine this would be even better. Recipe filed!

[Ana]

What an interesting recipe. I'm going to try it. I'm not a big tomato lover, but this sounds really yummy.

[tara]

What gorgeous photographs of all-too frequently overlooked ingredients!

[Lyn]

Clare:
I will get on that right away.

Melissa:
It is a lovely sweet/tangy mellow chutney taste. If you like chutney, you'll love this.

Ana:
Give it a try. It's not really a tomato taste. It's a surprisingly sweet and tnagy taste. Very much like chutney.

Tara:
That's a good point. Mainly we treat onions and tomatoes as an ingredient rather than a feature player in a dish.

I love these tiny flat onions. They are only about an inch or two across at the most. They are sweet and tender, if a pain to peel.

They had a strange name on the sign at the shop where I got them on Friday night (which I promptly forgot), but when I went back on Sunday to find out wwhat the name was, they were gone (the shop, not the onions...well I guess, strictly speaking the onions were gone too!). I looked in Larousse, and was surprised the "onions" entry didn't have them.

Do you have any idea what they are?

[mireille]

Your visuals are gorgeous ... and the recipe sounds wonderful. But I especially liked the story of your mother feeding your spirit and your sister kicking your shins. *that's love*

[Melissa]

Hi Lyn, are they cipolline onions, perhaps? They've even got a website: http://www.cipolline.com

[Lyn]

Mireille:
There was a lot of love in my family. My sister used to put vaseline in my hair.

Melissa:
They are indeed. You're brilliant.

[Lz]

Wow Lyn, this recipe looks amazing. Next time I'm at the farmers market I'll pick up enough fresh tomatoes to give this a try.

Liz

[Moira]

Ah, your memories give me hope for my two little ones, who love to scream a lot and hit each other.

Your shots look gorgeous, your writing is a delight, and I can't wait to try the recipe. Brava!