Miltomatl

Miltomatl that’s the Aztec word for tomatillo or to exact Physalis ixocarpa.

Late last winter when I was ordering seed I was feeling adventurous so I ordered something I had never grown before, tomatillos. A few years ago, I first found these firm little fruits that come wrapped in their own papery husk at my local market displayed with the tomatoes and avocados. I purchased some and used them in salsa. I was pleasantly surprised when they added a nice crunch and a sweet citrus-like note unlike the green tomato flavor I expected. Then last winter while dining at a Mexican restaurant I noticed a dish on the menu that was accompanied by tomatillo sauce so I ordered it and liked it very much. Those facts in addition to the seed catalog’s description stating that the plants are easy to grow and that they like the same conditions as tomatoes clinched my decision to give the seeds a try.

















I started the seeds in flats then planted the strongest two seedlings in the bed with my tomatoes. My tomatillo seedlings grew into three foot tall plants with green Chinese lantern-like pods. The fruit began to form inside the lanterns and continued to develop until it split the husk. Two plants have produced fruit for enough salsa and sauce to supply my family and a few friends!

Tomatillos are native to Central and South America. There is evidence that the Aztecs domesticated the tomatillo by 800 BC. Some experts think that it might have been the tomatillo rather than the tomato that the Spanish first brought back to Europe because the Aztec word for tomato is xitomatl and their word for tomatillo is miltomatl. It seems the Conquistadors called both fruits a tomato.

No matter what you call it, a tomatillo makes great salsa.


















Tomatillo Salsa

1 medium homegrown red tomato, diced

8 tomatillos (about 8 oz.), husked, rinsed, and chopped

1 green Ancho pepper, fire roasted, seeded, and chopped

¼ cup red onion, chopped

½ medium lime, juiced

Mix all ingredients in a stainless or ceramic bowl. Serve at once with your favorite tortilla chip or cover and refrigerate up to four hours. You can add other fresh ingredients like cilantro, or bell peppers, but I like to taste the tomatillo’s delicate flavor so I’m a bit of a purist with this salsa.

Love Apple

Love apple is a fitting description for a fruit with smooth firm skin and luscious ripe flesh exuding an enticing smell and offering the promise of infinite ways to be devoured. There is no vegetable, well technically a fruit, that can quite compare to a homegrown tomato. Many of us go to great lengths to grow them. I am no exception.

Each year I follow the same ritual of choosing the varieties, preparing the beds, planting, laying in the irrigation, mulching, and building the supports. My husband thinks I’m a bit nuts but he’s not a big tomato fan…yet. Although I am an advocate of heirloom varieties I plant hybrid varieties too. Most of the varieties I choose are indeterminate because I have the space for them to grow as big as they like. Each year I build a support structure of bamboo poles and twine. My husband has dubbed it “The Hanoi Hilton” but it is a strong scaffold that keeps the vines off the ground and protected from animals. It also makes harvesting the fruit easier.

Brandywine and Orange Oxheart are two of my favorite heirloom variety tomatoes. These are varieties that my grandmother or even her mother could have planted. Brandywine is in the photo at the top of this post and as you can see it is large, oddly lobe shaped, and cracks easily. But it has a sweet, rich, intense tomato flavor to which most other tomatoes are compared.

Orange Oxheart is a large yellow variety that is actually heart shaped. It is juicy and meaty with fewer seeds and less acidic flavor. It’s a great counterpoint in color and flavor to its red cousins.

At the end of this productive summer I have made countless fresh salsas, Caprese salads, and sauces. I have canned a few jars of pasta sauce and frozen a few tomatoes to add to soup this winter. I lament the looming threat of the first hard frost and the last fresh tomato. That makes the tomatoes I harvest in September, and if the weather cooperates, October that much more precious.


So to do justice to heirloom tomatoes here is an heirloom recipe with a bit more family history in explanation. This photo is Aunt Sophia holding my Mom in about 1915.

My mother’s Aunt Sophia (pronounced So-fee by her niece) has become a culinary legend in our family. Aunt Sophia was my grandmother’s older sister. She never married but dedicated herself to helping my grandparents farm and raise their family. She was the cook of the household, keeping the hearth fires burning while the rest of the family worked the fields or went to school. She died a decade and a half before I was born. I have a few of her recipes written out but most of her legacy has come to me through demonstrations by my Mom who was her kitchen apprentice. I grew up eating this tomato salad. It is classic Aunt Sophia--ingredients at the peak of ripeness with simple preparation. Nothing can be more enduring.

Aunt Sophia’s Tomato Salad

2 pounds fresh homegrown tomatoes, sliced horizontally
I like to use at least two varieties of tomatoes.

1 small red onion, sliced very thin

½ cup cider vinegar

2 teaspoons sugar

½ teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

In a small bowl mix the vinegar, sugar, salt, and pepper. In a larger bowl put the sliced tomatoes and onion. Pour the vinegar mixture over the tomatoes and allow to marinate for about 10 minutes.

Okra

Okra is a recent introduction to our family garden. No one in the family had heard of the vegetable until my uncle and his family visited friends in Georgia who served it fried in the traditional Southern way. The next summer my aunt planted some okra in her garden and our family has liked the green fuzzy pods with their slippery interiors ever since.

Okra is thought to have it’s origin in Ethiopia and the Upper Nile River valley. A Spanish Moor visiting Egypt in 1216 described the plant and noted that the young pods were eaten with meal in a preparation similar to my favorite way to cook them. It is assumed that French colonists and African slaves brought okra to the American South in the early 1700s.

My family discovered okra a couple of hundred years later in the 1970s. A member of the cotton family, okra is a slightly exotic plant for my Midwestern garden but our summers are hot and humid enough to make it produce well. I need to harvest the young pods when they are three to five inches long at least every three days to keep them from growing too large and getting tough.

If you look closely at the photo you can see a white spot on the soil and a black shape behind the leaves above it. That is Tommy. He loves to accompany me to the garden.

He is quite the hunter bringing us mice and birds almost daily. I have not figured out if he seeks out my company in the garden because he knows he can get some quality petting from me or if he us using my presence as protection from dive bombing mocking birds.

We like to eat okra sliced vertically, rolled in cornmeal and fried or sliced in rings and cooked in soups and gumbo.

Fried Okra

1 pound fresh okra

¾ cup flour, divided

1 cup milk or buttermilk

¾ cup cornmeal

Salt, black pepper, and cayenne pepper to taste


Wash the pods, cut off the stem, and slice them vertically.

Set out three large pie plates.

In plate one put about one half cup flour

In plate two put one cup milk or buttermilk

In plate three put the remaining flour, the cornmeal, and the seasonings

Roll the sliced okra in the flour, then the milk, then the seasoned cornmeal. Use one hand in the wet ingredients and the other hand in the dry ingredients to avoid breading your fingers. If you run short on any of the ingredients in the pie plates just add more during the process.

Lay the breaded okra on a baking sheet to dry while you heat vegetable oil in a skillet or fryer to 350 degrees. I test the oil by dropping a piece of breading into it. If the test piece bubbles and browns quickly it’s ready. Fry the pieces golden brown and drain on paper towels.

My husband introduced me to green Tabasco sauce. I think it is a wonderful condiment to serve with fried okra. It adds a wonderful glow to the crunchy exterior and juicy interior of the okra.