How to select,
store, prepare it;
Ramapo is back
By Gerald Etter
Time-honored seasonal hopes highlight every Philadelphia summer — that the Phillies might win a World Series, weather will be beach-perfect and the Jersey tomato will be its old tasty self, firm-fleshed, sweet, tart, succulent and juicy.
Unfortunately, much like the Phillies and the weather, the Jersey tomato has become unpredictable. It's often difficult to find one much better than the bland Florida and Mexican imports, winter staples blamed for the recent salmonella outbreak.
One positive note this summer: The Food & Drug Administration added New Jersey to the list of states ruled out as a cause of the tomato salmonella.
Ramapo revived
More good news: With the help of an Israeli company, Rutgers scientists revived the Ramapo, a delicious Jersey tomato that had been absent for some 20 years.
The zesty Ramapo had fallen to the side as scientists sought to create tomatoes with longer shelf life and firmer skin, which could ship better and stay around longer. Somewhere along the way, they forgot about flavor.
But the Ramapo should be available now at produce markets and roadside stands. Ask for it.
How to choose the best
If you can't find it, here are some
tips on selecting the best of what is available (www.state.nj.us/jerseyfresh,
www.agriculture.state.pa.us):
- Always select vine-ripened tomatoes. Tomatoes not vine-ripened are picked green, then exposed to ethylene gas, so they arrive at market with red skin but never truly ripen.
- A good tomato is heavy for its size and just slightly soft. It shouldn't feel too firm or mushy. Avoid tomatoes with greenish yellow patches around the stem end, as well as those that are bruised or blemished. Give them a good sniff. It's amazing how much you can tell about the flavor.
- Do not refrigerate tomatoes. Like bananas, they do not continue to ripen, and become mushy. Do not store them stem side down; this traps moisture and encourages spoilage. When fully ripe, tomatoes keep for a day or two.
- When ready to use them, wash the surface.
A lot of recipes call for removing the skin, as it shrivels and becomes chewy when cooked. I almost never remove the skin, and I usually don't remove the seeds; much of the juices are lost with the seeds.
If you want to remove the skin, place the tomatoes in boiling water for 30 seconds, then in cold water. The skins slip off easily. To remove the seeds, cut the tomato crosswise and either use a spoon to remove the seeds, or squeeze the seeds out into a bowl.
If you slice in circles, you lose more juice than if you cut them in vertical wedges. Using a thin, sharp knife, you just have to get past that thin skin. You can make a very small puncture with the tip of your knife, then place the blade gently on the opening. Next, use a delicate sawing motion until the tomato begins to respond.
Here's a simple summer recipe that allows a good tomato to strut its stuff (adapted from Tomatoes [Record Books, 1999] by Patricia Clark).
Cucumber and Tomato Raita
1 medium-size cucumber, peeled, halved lengthwise and seeded
1 tablespoon grated onion
2 teaspoons sea salt, or to taste
2 medium-sized tomatoes, peeled, seeded and chopped
2 scallions sliced
1 tablespoon finely chopped cilantro
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 cup plain yogurt
Cut cucumber halves in half again crosswise, then slice into half-inch slices. Combine cucumber and onion. Sprinkle with salt and place in colander to drain for 5 minutes. Press additional moisture from
cucumber-onion mixture. Place in bowl along with tomatoes, scallions, cilantro, cumin and yogurt. Mix well.
Raita is an Indian accompaniment to spicy dishes as it has a cooling effect on the palate. Use as a sauce or dip. It is similar to the Greek tzatziki.
Makes about 2 cups.
By The Senior Snacker
They say you can’t go home again, but we visited a restaurant that made us think twice about that old saying.
Under the Oak Café is in East Oak Lane — our old neighborhood. It specializes in homemade recipes, organic ingredients and locally grown produce.
The owners, Kelly McShain Tyree and Robert Tyree, are a married couple who moved from New York to take over an art gallery run by Kelly’s mom, Janet McShain (now retired and living at the seashore). The Tyrees — with Kelly’s brother, Devitt — restored the 1883 commercial building during visits from New York, and fell in love with the neighborhood. They bought and restored a nearby Victorian house. Then they converted the commercial space into the eating establishment it is today.
Traces of the gallery still show in the paintings on the wall, the eclectic seating arrangements of sofas and chairs, and the handsome wall of old barnwood — all of which encourage you to linger and chat.
It is sure to become a neighborhood fixture. The staff is charming. Robert is the chef and baker, locals are the servers and Kelly is everything else! Devitt McShain helps oversee daily operations.
We opted to eat our early dinner outdoors in the garden area, where a large umbrella shielded us from the sun. Surrounding us were planters abounding in blossoms, and in one corner was a rainbarrel (with spigot) connected to a downspout. Nathan, our waiter, told us the water is used to irrigate all the plantings.
We discussed the menu with Nathan, and he told us to expect large portions. Many of the recipes, he said, were family secrets. We decided, in spite of the five quiches available daily, to try the $9.25 red lentil cake platter and the $9 house-cured salmon sandwich.
The three lentil cakes, gloriously light and tasty, came with cucumbers, avocado, sour cream, flat bread points and the most amazing Moroccan carrots. “If my mother made vegetables like that I’d eat them,” Nathan said.
The salmon was cured on-premises in a secret brine mixture containing Grand Marnier and served on ciabatta with cream cheese, tomato, arugula, red onion and capers — each bite was worth lingering over.
One of their eight desserts, the $5.50 key lime pie, was the best we’ve ever tasted. We missed out on Nathan’s Peanut Brittle, a recipe from his great grandfather, which wasn’t available that night — but Nathan promised he’d make it next time we came.
Under the Oak Café
804 Oak Lane, Philadelphia, PA 19126 • 215-924-1410 ---
(one block south of Melrose Park Train Station, on the Oak Lane Bridge).
7 a.m. to 7 p.m., Tuesday to Saturday;
10 a.m. to 3 p.m., Sunday; closed Monday.