Attack of the KILLER tomatoes

I love tomatoes. LOVE them. I also love my husband, Sean, who grows me tomatoes (I love him for other reasons, but that never hurts when he's standing in line for the doghouse!) Contrast this with my brother, Stoney, who wouldn't eat an unprocessed tomato (marinara, ketchup and salsa were OK) because he refused to "eat food still in the larval state."


This spring and summer, we've been admittedly neglectful of our yard and garden, so imagine my delight when Sean sauntered in one afternoon with a handful of scarlett red gems no bigger than the end of my thumb. We have no garden growing, but amid a patch of overgrown... let's call it grass...was a volunteer tomato plant creeping across the ground and laden with these yummy jewels. My mouth waters now just at the thought.

Then came the HOT HOT HOT and the teenaged son who cleared the lawn. He didn't touch the tomato plant but without their blanket of protection, they seem to have given up the battle for now. So, we bought farmer's market tomatoes. Good, good, good. And more than we could use in a couple of days so said son put them in the fridge. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Once they've been in the chillbox, 'maters lose flavor. (it's not just my opinion, I swear! Ask Alton Brown. He's on Twitter @altonbrown) So then I had a choice: Whine or recover?  I know when life gives you lemons you're supposed to make lemonade (or Lemon Pepper Linguine) but I had tomatoes and tomato-ade just sounded wrong.
I like the idea of sun-dried tomatoes but other than one version I had a decade ago in London, I've never been impressed with the reality of sun-dried tomatoes.
Brain clicking, I remembered something I read eons ago about preserving tomatoes by slow-roasting them. THAT proved to be a path to pursue. So, I roasted them, using the following recipe. To mock a certain teenager who uses the phrase "killer" to mock me, these are "killer."

KILLER TOMATOES


Little tomatoes (cherry, currant or grape work best)
whole unpeeled cloves of garlic (NOT HEADS, cloves)
Olive oil
Balsamic vinegar
Salt
Sugar

Bake at 225 degrees-- yes, I know it's summer and it's hot. Trust me. It'll be OK.

Halve the tomatoes longway, put them and the garlic in a bowl and drizzle on a tablespoon or so of extra virgin olive oil (I use Texas Olive Ranch oils most of the time. Like the oil and the people. http://texasoliveranch.com/)

---NOTE: at this point, I usually pull most of the tomatoes out and keep them pure. The rest get a dose of balsamic (also from Texas Olive Ranch), a spoonful of sugar and a dash of salt, just because.---

Put the tomatoes FACE UP and the garlic cloves on a wire rack set on a parchment paper-lined baking sheet. IF YOU DON'T HAVE A RACK, just put the tomatoes on the paper. Please don't go buy a rack unless you just know you really needed one all this time and this is your excuse to buy one.

Bake the tomatoes in the oven for about three hours. You want the tomatoes to be shriveled and dry, but with a little juice left insiden. This could take more or less time depending on the size of your tomatoes and your oven. 

The first thing you're going to want to do it pop one in your mouth. DON'T DO IT. Those suckers are hot. Blow on it first, then pop it in your mouth. Then you can use your tomatoes right away or let them cool, cover them with some extra olive oil and keep them in the fridge. Use them with your favorite pasta, topped with just a bit of the olive oil (which is going to pick up incredible flavor), on a pizza, or just as a snack.

Oh, and those cloves of garlic? Squeeze them out, mash them up and spread on toasted French bread. Put one of those tomato halves on top and you've got yourself a fancy little treat.