a year's worth of tomato

Besides drying and freezing tomatoes, we make a year's supply of bottled puree (passata) so we never have to buy imported, tinned or bottled stuff picked by African labourers in Italy who are paid a pittance. Ours tastes better anyway.
Tomatoes are cut for the pot, preferably sitting beside an almond tree.


Occasionally it's OK to get distracted to eat some of the tomatoes with cucumber, basil and goat cheese.


The tomatoes are cooked until soft and pulpy with nothing added, then passed through the Mouli that Briony inherited from her mother.


The shelf is slowly filling with bottles.


P.S. this passata is always recooked before use, just in case.

the height of summer

Although it's officially autumn, our Tasmanian garden thinks it's the peak of summer. All of the heat-loving vegetables and later fruits are ready and we've got so much good stuff to eat and preserve.
Capsicums, tomatoes, zucchinis, dill, parsley and cucumbers mean we can have Greek-style stuffed vegetables with tzatziki (and Greek-style grilled lamb chops with Greek oregano grown from seed gleaned from a Greek man).


Sweetcorn means happy children


Eggplants, tomatoes and onions


mean pasta con la Norma. Fry eggplants in olive oil until golden. Add to a sauce made with sauteed onions, garlic and quartered tomatoes (should be chunky) and fold through homemade linguine with a good handful of basil leaves and chopped chiles.


And quinces just look and smell so good