august burns red
a recipe for stuffed roasted tomatoes
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note to readers: the below post was written 5 years ago. I make these tomatoes stuffed with rice many times every summer, especially in late July and August. I was first introduced to them when visiting family in Rome when I was 16, my cousins cooked these for us (and many other treasured dishes that are now part of my regular cooking life) and I fell in love. I last made these a few weeks ago when we were leaving on a trip. I took them with us as our first night dinner and shared some photos. Lots of you asked for the recipe again, so I thought I’d re-publish it here as a gentle reminder to make them before tomatoes ebb out of our local food web again. I hope you enjoy and that they also become a treasured summer meal for you. xx A
A lifetime ago I used to listen to a lot of metal and similar genres of music, a side effect of absorbing the habits of a then boyfriend who loved it- and a little way for me to be rebellious, I think, music completely the opposite of what my parents would listen to, always an appealing prospect as a just-hatched young adult. The band names were dramatic (and frankly hilarious, looking back)- Underoath, Lamb of God, Between the Buried and Me, As I Lay Dying, and August Burns Red. Recently I was reminded of this because I happened to drive by a music venue, and who was on the marquis but August Burns Red. It made me laugh to see it and think of how much we change and shift over the seasons in life. In the present, it seems we are who we are and that is definitively that, but truly we change so much even year to year, not just musical preferences, but also routines, where we live, who we choose to be around, what we enjoy doing, how we spend our time and our life, who we identify as. As humans we try desperately to label and know and predict and plan, but change is the only constant, and of that I am deeply grateful. I am freshly 32, and the stability and anchored feeling of these years feels extra good when I muse over the floundering and grasping chaos of my younger years.
I used to almost never cook, and now I cannot imagine otherwise, I cook at least 3 times a day almost every day, not as a chore but as a pleasure, an outlet, a creative process. Throughout the seasons my cooking and eating naturally flows and shifts and changes, too. July has all but slipped away and although it feels too soon, the consolation is that tomatoes are in full swing, abundant, and everywhere here in our little corner of California. From the garden, from the market, from the store, baskets full from neighbors backyards, at stands on the side of the road, there is no escaping them. Not that you’d want to, not me at least, tomatoes stain my kitchen beautifully red this time of year, all the way through early fall. They lend a perfect backbone to everything I love to eat right now, tomato salads, sandwiches, bruschetta, gazpacho, ratatouille, sauces, pasta, pizza, it is an excellent time of the year for eating. August still burns red, in my kitchen at least.
