I realize that not only are not all good recipes created by me, but that sometimes I actually use a recipe–someone else’s, to boot! That’s where this one came from. I have been multiply blessed by heaps and pounds and ginormous quantities of other people’s home-grown produce; mostly in my own generous family. Heaps of yellow cherry tomatoes, which the people who grew and sold the plants to my dad said tasted “like candy.” Personally, I don’t think tomatoes taste like candy, because I had a Lindt chocolate-orange square earlier and there was definitely a difference. But yes, they are sweet.
In addition to the controversial yellow cherry tomatoes, I’ve gotten six-pound zucchini (I’m estimating on the low side here), big, thick, heavy, sandwich-slice tomatoes, yellow and red heirloom in all sizes and with a variety of kinda fun bubbles marking them as heirloom, and small red cherry tomatoes. Unfortunately, that bounty comes with a price.
I have been a saver of things since who knows when. Money (how else were we able to get a house after less than a year of marriage?), new clothes (always waiting for a “special” occasion, thus going un-worn), even leftovers (the Midwestern Meateater is careful about what he eats, in case I’m using it for later). Hence, I “save” the produce for a “special” occasion. However. Special occasions involving leeks, mint, rosemary, thyme, dill, cilantro, sweet corn, mounds of tomatoes, new potatoes, peaches, and cantaloupe in one meal, well, they don’t come often. And if they do, I don’t have either the time or stomach for them.
So, tomatoes got given to me, tomatoes got saved by me, and then tomatoes got…away from me. Squishy. But now…oh, now I have a tasty soup, courtesy of Martha. Well, no. Courtesy of Martha’s huge company. (I need that caveat, because on a personal level, I am not a fan of Martha’s…but her decision-makers have produced a mighty many things that I like.)
This soup is written to be eaten chilled, which I’m sure would be great on a hot summer evening or afternoon. However, our “summer” days happened to get a cue from Labor Day that summer was apparently over, because the day I made this, it was cold and rainy. Thus, a hot soup.
Tangy and sweet, this soup is incredibly pungent. The flavors are like summer–bold, intense, and bright. It would warm you in the winter, too.
Everything in here is good for you. Everything. It’s like V8 that tastes good and doesn’t smell bad. Drink it. Eat it. Freeze it. I suspect it would be a great base for another soup, and a creamy version is very tempting.
Find the recipe here, since I’m sure there’s a reason I’m not supposed to post it…like that Omnimedia didn’t exactly give me permission.
What’s in it? I can tell you that:
- fresh, grated ginger
- fresh-squeezed lime juice
- olive oil
- salt, pepper
I added a bit more sugar than called for to cut the acidity, but I also used quite a bit of yellow cherry tomatoes, which are more acidic than their red counterparts. If you prefer sweet versus tangy, I suggest using only red tomatoes, particularly varieties like Roma, which are low-acid. The recipe calls for serving with a yogurt-lime dollop, but that will also increase ye olde tang.
My favorite part: if you plan to serve it cold, all it involves is a little chopping and a blender. That’s it. Yes, really.
I served it with hot garlicky lentils and toasted, crusty bread–the Midwestern Meateater would think he needed something else if I didn’t include a slab of protein. Very good all around.