This season, I keep thinking of that song summertime...and the livin' is easy. I'm not sure what the actual context of the song is, but I'm thinking it should be a farm. Because summertime on a farm--if you're not a farmer but a farmer's wife who loves to eat and cook--the livin' is easy. (I guess I should stress that part about not being a farmer but a farmer's wife...my farmer keeps dreaming of the easy living of winter, when the pantry's stocked with butternut squash and potatoes, and the chest freezer is full of pork, and the fields are sleeping.)*
However, I'm months into summer and still marveling about all the fresh food--and how easy it is to cook dinners that take zero effort and taste bright and rich. Like ratatouille! Not made the Pixar way, with Remy's mandolin-thin slices of veggies and showers of colorful herbs, but the peasant way (at least, I imagine), layered in a big dutch oven, covered with a lid, and simmered for forty minutes until stewy and soft. I made it last week, and between harvesting the eggplant, peppers, and tomatoes in the steamy tunnel, chopping all the vegetables, and picking some herbs, I was finished prepping (with the cutting board washed) in less than a half an hour...and reading my book on the couch while dinner bubbled away.
Summer produce is perfect for quick and forgiving meals like that, no recipe required, experimenting encouraged. But we've also delved into the deep waters of very unexperimental cooking this season: canning and pickling. And I just might have an addiction to it.
The whole process of canning is the opposite of my usual cooking style: you have to follow the recipe, no excuses; you can't make anything up; you have to measure precisely. Most unlike me, you have to lay everything out before starting and be organized. And prepared.
I find everything about it, from the timing to the boiling to the stirring to the gelling to the jar-filling to the dreaded water-bath processing, way too stressful. Most likely I'm just not used to it yet, but it seriously puts me in a sweat.
Somehow, though, every time I finish (read: collapse on the couch), I feel this giddy sense of satisfaction and self-sufficiency. The jars lined up on the counter are full of yummy preserves that will in turn fill our winter with the tastes of summer. The nectarine jam that might not have set will be delicious pancake syrup, and we will pretend that was the goal all along; the cardamom-plum jam will make winner PB&Js and probably even pair with caramelized onions to make chutney for pork-chops. The dilly beans and pickles will add crunch and tang to winter lunches.
And then I'm off dreaming about the next canning project, drama and stress forgotten. Today: turn four pounds of summer squash into hot cumin-spiced squash pickles (although whoever heard of a squash pickle?!). Next weekend: melt tomatillos into enchilada sauce. And the pinnacle: transform tomatoes into canned chopped tomatoes, tomato sauce, and tomato-basil jam.
Still, post-canning session, I always need a simple meal like ratatouille to restore my kitchen confidence.
Simple summer ratatouille
You can fool with ratatouille as much or as little as you want. The traditional French method, apparently, is to first brown each of the vegetables separately, then stew them together. Possibly I shouldn't mess with French tradition--they know a thing or two about food more than I do. But I find my cheater method irresistible. If you add the 1/3 cup water, you'll have a rich and filling vegetable broth to heat up the next day for a simple lunch best soaked up with a slice of bread. (Use a slotted spoon to dish up the ratatouille if you do this.) Whatever you do, be free, toss around your herbs like Remy, and hum along to some French music while you chop vegetables. Now one of our end-of-summer goals is to make ratatouille at least once a week while the veggies last.
1 tablespoon butter
1 large onion, diced
2 green peppers, stem and seeds removed, sliced thinly lengthwise
2 medium summer squash, cut into 1/2-inch rounds
2 medium eggplants, cut into 1/2-inch rounds
3 large heirloom tomatoes, roughly chopped
1/3 cup water (optional)
1 teaspoon minced fresh rosemary
1 teaspoon minced fresh oregano
2 tablespoons minced fresh basil, separated
Salt and pepper to taste
Heat the butter in a 6- to 8-quart cast-iron pot (or heavy-bottomed saucepan) over medium heat. When it's melted and hot, add the onions and cook for about 5 minutes, until the onions are glossy and soft--don't stir too much, as a little browning on the bottom of the pan is good for flavor.
Next, scatter the green peppers in a layer on top of the onions. Summer squash comes next in another rough layer, followed by the eggplant and then tomatoes. Pour in the 1/3 cup water. Sprinkle the rosemary, oregano, and half of the basil on top (or, if you're feeling like a particularly creative French rat/chef, you can get fancy with these spices and throw them around a little!); season with salt and pepper to taste; and cover.
Let stew for approximately 40 to 50 minutes, stirring only very occasionally (this is excellent book-reading time). The ratatouille is done when the veggies are soft, but still hold their shape.
Top with the remaining basil. Pair with pearl barley for a heartier meal, or with big hunks of rustic bread and butter for something simpler.
Notes: Like I said above, you can make this as simply or extravagantly as you'd like, and this doesn't just refer to cooking method. Focus on one herb instead of three if you'd rather; add some sherry or white wine if you want (although the flavor really doesn't need the boost); mince some garlic to add with the onions.
*I'll extra stress that point, since my farmer's response to reading the first sentence of this post was "the livin' is easy?!" But he did laugh about the pork part, because it is very true.
