Have you noticed the breath of coolth in the morning? The heat of the summer is taking a short break and you have got to step away from your screens to revel in it. Hurricane season is always mercurial. Let’s make hay this weekend before we expire from the heat next week. It’s the perfect time to make gazpacho.
Gazpacho was made originally without tomatoes, because tomatoes and green peppers didn’t grow in Europe until the sixteenth century, when these New World vegetables introduced. Today gazpacho is considered “an uncooked mixture of tomatoes, garlic, olive oil, water, vinegar, onions, cucumbers, and green peppers, thickened with bread crumbs.” I tend to toss in anything that is ripe, or about to be over-ripe. Gazpacho
We have so many impulsive farmers’ market buys crammed in the kitchen right now. There is not enough time to slice up all of the plump heirloom tomatoes for classic tomato sandwiches. I am going to have to toss a few into the blender for expediency. Zucchini will be cropping up soon, too. It is best to add them to the blender fast, before anyone notices how many have suddenly crossed our threshold. And all of the corn! And watermelon. Yikes.
Walk out onto the front porch with your book and relax this afternoon. Tonight you are going to whip up a batch of gazpacho, gentle readers. Because at this time of the year you have got all the fixings in your fridge, or right there on your kitchen windowsill. You do NOT need to go to the grocery store, I promise you. This is not a tricky damn woo Martha recipe, where you need organic, extra-virgin, artisanal walnut oil, freshly pressed by silent Trappist monks. Even I have all this stuff, and usually I am only good for Triscuits, hard bits of Cheddar cheese and cheap white wine. (This summer there is a bottle of vodka stashed in the freezer. Shhh.)
Stick your head in the fridge. What do you see? I see Vidalia onions, half of a cucumber, a bowl of watermelon chunks, some limes, green peppers, radishes, V-8 juice and Tobasco sauce. There is an assortment of ripening tomatoes, a bale of basil, and a poor sad, store-bought parsley plant struggling on the kitchen windowsill. And bread! The bread collection in the freezer yields a goodish loaf of last week’s foccaccia bread. Perfecto! In the cupboard I find olive oil and a big old can of Marzano tomatoes – in case we need to stretch the recipe, and make enough to serve for lunch tomorrow.
Gazpacho is exceptionally versatile. It can be a soup, a dip, or a cocktail. I am opting for the cocktail, because it is Friday, after all. I don’t need to work up a sweat tonight, and neither do you! It’s going to be a perfect evening to sit out on the back porch with Mr. Sanders, and marvel at how summer sped by so fast. It seems like only yesterday we were “Ooohing,” and “Ahhhing,” the Fourth of July fireworks, and now school is just about to start…
Grab a bag of Doritos (ours might be a little stale, sorry) and pour some gazpacho in a bowl and drop it on the table next to the porch swing. Excuse yourself for a few minutes. Luke the wonder dog is good for entertaining people because he always wants to chase the ball. Hours (and hours) of endless amusement for him…
Thaw and soak the bread, peel, chop, slice and dice your vegetables, and then whip them up in the blender, or with your food processor. Chunky – great for dip. Slurpy – good for soup. Smooth – get out the straws and the vodka.
“Again and again, the cicada’s untiring cry pierced the sultry summer air like a needle at work on thick cotton cloth.”
― Yukio Mishima
Vic Pfeiffer says
We were in Spain in June, and our Spanish friend made us gazpacho using red sweet cherries (.5lbs) along with tomatoes (2lbs), red onion, garlic, cubanelle pepper, sherry vinegar & EVOO. It was a beautiful thing!!