For those of you not familiar with the traditions of Italian families, there is something called a garden which is the most important thing EVER…in life. And from that garden comes all the produce that will feed you throughout the year, a least that’s how it’s supposed to work. There’s just one tiny stipulation, YOU have to CAN all those fruits and vegetables in order to keep them for an entire year. And let me tell you, it’s a poop load of work!
Women far better than me seem to relish this work, but that could be because in the middle of the night their husbands must be implanting something in their brains that makes them love canning. I am divorced so no implant here, but my cousin Nancy (in the photo above) is still happily married to Jeff, who loves to garden, so next time I’m near her I’ll be checking her scalp for scars.
She had eight million tomatoes sitting all over Uncle Richard’s basement. I was taken aback by the sheer number of tomatoes (there were more in buckets you can’t see) but I was thrilled to see my uncle’s home being used even though he’s left us. It’s nice to see that all the work he put into building that house was not for nothing. His daughter and her implant placing husband are enjoying it. It makes me wish I’d been able to buy my parents’ home, but c’est la vie.
But back to the tomatoes…those tomatoes had to be rinsed, cut, cooked, then strained so the skin and seeds came out, then cooked some more, then put into sterile jars with Uncle Richard’s sauce combo of a garlic clove, a sprig of parsley and a large basil leaf, then heated and then removed from the heat.
The good news is Nancy and I had fun doing it despite the poop load of work. We talked about life, things we remember from childhood, our kids, food, recipes, how hot it was, how much we were sweating, recipes again, food again, and pretty soon the day blew by. I can hardly wait to do it again…wait! Did I just say that? Quick, somebody check me for an implant.
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1 Comment
Petrea Burchard
August 24, 2026 at 1:22 pmI grew up nextdoor to the son of Italian immigrants, and he had a hell of a garden. We did too, and I don’t know if it was because my mother was competitive or if she just liked the free food. Probably a little of both. But I love the tomato seeds and skin! J and I learned a recipe just for eating (not for canning): slice up a bunch of tomatoes and oil up a baking pan. Fill the pan to all the corners with the slices in sort of scalloped rows. Toss in a lot of garlic and whatever else you want. Roast it at a high temperature until those tomatoes get a little bit blackened on the edges. MMMMMMMM!