Mangia! Mangia!
The basics: Fresh marinara sauce
ANTOINETTE JACKSON

A couple of years ago, my neighbor and friend Cindy Watson brought me a shopping bag full of tomatoes from her garden.

I stored the riper tomatoes in the vegetable bin of the refrigerator, next to the basket I had bought at a roadside stand a day earlier.

I put the more yellow colored tomatoes onto the window sill where they could ripen.

During the week we thoroughly enjoyed vine-ripened tomatoes in salads and in sandwiches.

I even sliced a few and put on them top of a store-bought frozen pizza to perk it up.

A few days later another large bag of tomatoes appeared on our doorstep.

As I added the newer crop to the vegetable bin, some of the previous tomatoes were beginning to look overly ripe.

It appeared the tomatoes in my refrigerator were multiplying faster than rabbits in a pet store.

And certainly faster than we could consume them before they went bad.

My dilemma: what could I do with this bumper crop of beautiful and delicious tomatoes?

I know, I'll remedy the problem as my mother, grandmother and great grandmother did.

I'll use the family recipe to make a batch of fresh Sicilian Marinara Sauce.

Just then a cold chill rippled down my spine.

My mind flashed back to a time decades earlier.

Daddy came home from work on a Saturday afternoon carrying a bushel of bright red fresh tomatoes he bought from a street peddler.

"What am I supposed to do with those?" my mother questioned.

"Make stratto," my father answered.

If looks could kill- as Mom used to say- Daddy would be looking up through dirt at all those tomatoes.

At the time, I wasn't familiar with the term, "stratto," which means extract, or the work involved in making it.

Mom was not happy about the task ahead of her.

But, like most dutiful wives of the late 1940's, my mother got out her heavy pots and started blanching tomatoes.

Then she peeled and chopped them.

She simmered and stirred them.

Midway, she let them cool down then pushed them through a scola pasta (strainer) to remove the seeds.

The pulp went back onto the stove to simmer again.

Several hours later, when the tomatoes were the consistency of tomato paste, Mom jarred the stratto.

She cleaned the pots, utensils and backsplash over the stove plus the myriad of little red dots that had splattered all over the kitchen.

Throughout the hours she was working, Mom, who was usually quite happy in her kitchen, was grumbling the word "stratto" under her breath like it was a curse word.

Needless to say, Daddy never again brought home a crate of fresh tomatoes.

Even though I would not be making stratto, with other priorities challenging my time I wasn't ready to spend the good part of a day putting up tomatoes.

Then, as if I was having an out of body experience, I observed myself emptying the tomatoes from the refrigerator vegetable bin.

I put a pot of water on the range.

Next I got my notebook so I could write down the procedure step by step for my niece Seanna who has developed an interest in her grandmother's cooking.

I loaded my favorite CD's and, with The Three Tenors singing Italian ballads in the background, I donned my bright yellow vinyl apron.

For the next three hours, while I chopped, simmered and stirred, I was in a different world.

The aroma of fresh tomatoes cooking on the stove brought back so many happy childhood memories.

How blessed I am, I thought, to have such a rich cultural heritage that enjoys robust, good tasting and healthful foods.

And, that through family recipes and stories, I'm able pass some of that heritage down to my niece, Seanna. Grandma Providenza's fresh tomato marinara sauce

A staple of the Italian diet, Marinara- which means sailor- is one of the most simple yet versatile of sauces in Sicilian cookery. Use it on pasta, fish, chicken, vegetables and breads.
2 dozen ripe tomatoes
4 quarts water, divided
About 6 ice cubes
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 medium onion, sliced
6 leaves fresh basil
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon sugar
1 / 4 teaspoon black pepper

Fill two each 2-1/2 quart saucepans with water two inches from the top.

Bring one saucepan to a boil and turn of the heat; add six ice cubes to the other.

Add the tomatoes to the boiled water, four at a time.

Keep them in the hot water for about three minutes.

Using tongs, remove the tomatoes and put them into the iced water.

After one minute, remove a tomato and peel away the skin with a paring knife.

Cut the peeled tomato into quarters and set aside into a large bowl.

Repeat the process until all the tomatoes are blanched and skinned.

You will probably have to reheat the pan with hot water and re-ice the cold water.

In a deep pan, like a Dutch oven, heat the olive oil.

Add the sliced onion and sauté until translucent.

Add the tomatoes and the rest of the ingredients.

Bring to a boil, then simmer uncovered for three hours, stirring frequently, until the liquid is reduced to about one third of the original volume.

When reduced, even with sugar added, some tomatoes might still be sour to the taste.

If so, here's a tip from a chef friend of mine who learned it in Northern Italy. Peel one large carrot.

Cut off the ends; cut it in half down the middle and then into 3-inch pieces; cook the carrot in the simmering sauce.

After about ten minutes, remove the carrot pieces.

For a treat, serve the Marinara Sauce over fresh store-bought fettuccini.

Top with minced fresh basil and freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano.

Freeze the leftover sauce for use in other dishes like pizza, baked cod or Chicken Cacciatore.

Serves about 4.

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Antoinette Jackson is a Bullard-area resident. You may reach her at Antojxn@aol.com.