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The tomatoes in the supermarket are smooth-skinned, perfectly unblemished and the same shade of tomato red. There are the little punnets with fancy tomatoes of varying colours and shapes, but mostly, they are of a very similar size, shape and colour. This could not be said for my homegrown ones! It isn’t until you grow your own tomatoes and compare them side by side that you realise how many variations of red there are. Some tomatoes are a pinky-red, others have blue undertones, others are the traditional tomato red. They are also yellow, orange, green and black. Some have patches of colour, others stripes. And while some are uniformly spherical, there are plenty that aren’t. Some are meant to have creases and ridges or tear-drop shapes. Others, often the first fruit on the plant, grow into strangely misshapen forms, bumpy and gnarly, supermarket rejects if ever I saw one. But what they lack in looks, they more than makeup for in flavour. They run the spectrum from sweet to slightly tart, from soft and juicy to drier and fleshy. There is a tomato suitable for every occasion.
Growing tomatoes is somewhat of a religion in Tasmania, a collective unifying activity that invites comment and conversation, even at the most fleeting of meetings. There is always enough time to ask how the tomatoes are growing. In early summer, the conversation centres around whether or not the tomatoes have been planted. Everyone has their own theory about the best time. Local lore has Hobart Show Day, the fourth Thursday in October, as the day for planting. But really, this is for those living in Hobart, not for us further south, where there is still the distinct possibility of frost. At this stage, tomato seedlings should still be protected in the warmth of the hothouse. Common wisdom says that they should be in the ground by December, otherwise you run out of warm days at the harvesting end. It still requires careful watching of the forecast. The late arrival of summer and still cold nights mean a late afternoon dash to cover the delicate plants lest they succumb overnight.
There is often discussion about varieties - which ones you have tried, what grows well, which ripens first, what do you prefer for cooking. No one plants just a couple of types, and those with dozens of varieties is not unusual. This year, I’ve tried to rein in my excess from last year and probably have around 18 different types of tomatoes in the ground. If I were a more organised and diligent gardener, I could tell you exactly. I plant with the best intentions of keeping track of what’s what, but it isn’t long before the name tags are lost, I’ve thrown organisation to the wind and decided to just see what happens.
While tomato-eating season starts in summer, it really is in autumn that they are at their most prolific and tastiest. This is when the last of the warm days coax a surge of ripening just as the leaves start to wither and die off. In the hothouse, I have my cooking varieties, insurance against poor weather that guarantees there will be preserved tomatoes during winter. The classic San Marzano for bottling whole or in pieces and Santorini for making pasta sauces and the like. I roast them, sometimes with garlic, sometimes with chilli or capsicum and then whizz them with the stick blender before bottling them.
In the garden beds outside are the eating tomatoes from cherry tomatoes (the valentine is my favourite, a little heart-shaped tomato that is sweet yet with a slight tartness and a brilliant crunch) to all manner of others. The atomic grape, a tasty green and black striped tomato, blue beauty with a red blush appearing between the dark bluey-black patches and Ilse’s Orange Latvian, which adds a burst of colour to the plate. And while they are all recognisably tomatoey in their taste, they are also remarkably different.
Each afternoon, after feeding the kitchen scraps to the chickens and chatting to the sheep, I look to see what tomatoes are ripe for harvesting. Could they last another day or two on the vine to add just a little more colour? Are they in danger of being eaten by caterpillars? There is nothing more frustrating than watching a tomato grow to its full potential, to see that first tinge of colour, only to realise that it is the result of a caterpillar having tunnelled inside. I’ve started picking some of the larger ones at the first sign of colour and allowing them to ripen inside as protection from the grubs.
About 15 kg of tomatoes are sitting in a huge bucket on the kitchen floor. Tomorrow is the day for chutney, relish, pasta sauce and bottling - there is nothing quite as satisfying as looking at all those jars of preserved tomatoes sitting as they cool. There won’t be quite enough to last until next tomato season, but it will be close.
Outside of tomato season, we rarely eat fresh tomatoes, so gorging on them at this time of year is guaranteed. Sometimes, just a plate of chopped tomatoes, burrata, olive oil and basil; other times, a fresh tomato sauce to accompany pasta, or a galette with nutty, wholemeal pastry wrapped around a jumble of assorted tomatoes. Or for breakfast, sturdy toasted sough dough with sliced tomatoes, a drizzle of olive oil, a sprinkle of sea salt and a few grinds of pepper.
This savoury crumble, made with fresh tomatoes, is another way to enjoy them. I like that it is substantial enough for the cooler evenings but still has a lingering hint of summer. It’s not a deep crumble so the tomatoes turn jammy in the oven, the texture offset by the cheesy crumble. The crumble can be the main event, accompanied by a leafy green salad. Alternatively, it could also be a side dish served with grilled fish or meat. It also makes a good brunch dish. I like to use a mix of tomatoes, larger ones and cherry tomatoes but it works well a single variety. I’ve used a mix of cheddar and parmesan cheese in the recipe, but you can change this to suit your preferences. Small teaspoonsful of soft goat’s cheese nestled in the crumble is delicious, or cherry-sized bocconcini adds that stretchy cheese pull.
Tomato Crumble
Serves 4-6
100 g wholemeal flour
50 g rolled oats
120 g salted butter, cut into small cubes
70 g cheddar cheese, coarsely grated
50 g parmesan cheese, finely grated
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 French shallots, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
1 teaspoon fresh thyme
700 g tomatoes, roughly chopped, or cherry tomatoes halved
Preheat the oven to 180°C.
Prepare the crumble by adding the flour and oats to a bowl. Tip in the butter and rub this into the flour mixture until it resembles coarse bread crumbs. Add the cheeses and mix them through. Set aside while you prepare the tomatoes.
Heat the olive oil in an oven-proof skillet. Add the shallots and garlic and cook over a medium heat until softened. Stir in the vinegar and thyme. Turn off the heat and add the tomatoes. Gently mix everything.
Spread the crumble over the top of the tomato mixture and bake in the oven for about 40 minutes, or until the top is golden. Leave to cool slightly before serving.
Next week: leading the pear revival + a spiced pear cake
Each week I share the latest instalment of the book I am writing here on Substack, Home Bake; a Year of Seasonal Baking. A subscription will ensure you don’t miss any of the stories and recipes. You might also want to consider a paid subscription which will give you access to previous recipes, as well as printer-friendly recipe cards, bonus material, access to Q&A and a quarterly compilation of the recipes. There is also an additional newsletter on Friday, which is a mixed bag and touches on all manner of food topics. I’d love for you to be a part of it.
Paid subscribers will find the printer-friendly recipe card for the tomato crumble by clinking on the link below. There’s also a few additional savoury crumble ideas.
Cheese tomato crumble! Divine! 🧀 🍅
I love this ode to tomatoes! I haven’t had much luck planting them here near the sea—usually the bugs get them before I do, but your pictures and poetic prose are inspiring, so perhaps I’ll try again. I’ve had apple and berry crumbles but never tomato. It really does sound delicious. Always an interesting read, Julia!