This year’s contestants:

Cherokee Purple  (always a fave, makes the best BLT’s)

Old German (it takes one to know one)

Green Zebra

Japanese Trefele

Beefsteak

Rutgers  (I’m in Jersey, of course I’m going to have this one)

Super Marzano

San Marzano Gigante 3  (I’m wondering what happened to 1 & 2)

Amish Paste

Orange Paruche

Chocolate Cherry

Sweet 100

Of course a lot of tilling was involved but since I caved-in and gave up on the old Mantis and bought a new tiller,  everyone wanted to get in on the act.  Primo was dying to till, and till he did.

Seen here, tilling the squash patch.

Fortunately we’ve got an eager 13 year old to help.   But some folks don’t have the help at hand.  Here’s a story Mom sent:

An old maan lived alone in  New Jersey  .  He wanted to plant his annual  tomato garden, but it was very difficult work, as the ground was hard.

His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his predicament:

Dear Vincent,
I am feeling pretty sad, because it looks like I won’t be able to plant my tomato garden this year. I’m just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. I know if you were here my troubles would be over..  I know you would be happy to dig the plot for me, like in the old days.
Love, Papa

A few days later he received a letter from his son.

Dear Pop,
Don’t dig up that garden. That’s where the bodies are buried.
Love,
Vinnie

 At 4 a.m. the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man and left.

That same day the old man received another letter from his son.

Dear Pop,
Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That’s the best I could do under the circumstances.
Love you,
Vinnie

Some pics from T-day.

On the other hand, this year may be our most bounteous harvest yet for the holiday table.  In the past we’ve had little more than a few herbs to use for the big feast but this year we’ll be able to serve our own Brussels sprouts as well as lettuce if we went nuts and decided we needed to ruin our holiday meal with a salad.  There are also a few shallots poking their fronds up from the soil.

Alas, it doesn’t look like the beets I planted in late August are going to amount to anything.  Maybe enough for a garnish at best.  I’ll wait until Thursday to pull a couple and roast ‘em up real fast if there are enough to make a side.

In preparation for the arrival of friends and family we gussied up the yard this weekend.  Mowed, fertilized, raked the remaining leaves.  This year we only threw out one bag of leaves, the rest went to the composting bin to be used over the course of the year.

Also, on Friday I stopped by our guys at NJ Grinding to get our knives sharpened for all the food prep we’ll be doing.

Saturday we tried rib-eye bison steaks from the bison lady at the Montclair Farmer’s Market.  Just simply grilled.  They were OK but we’ve like the filets we’ve had in the past better.  Not really rich enough to be considered a rib-eye.

Sunday we crammed the cavity of a chicken full of herbs and a lemon and roasted it.  The Principessa made a wonderful ratatouille  AND a risotto with one of the butternuts from the garden.   Not our usual chicken and mashed which was nice for a change.

But then I figured what the hell, I’m not doing anything else.  And besides, since the tomato season has ended a bit early (thank you cool and rainy summer) there’s not much else to write about so here goes with our initial “WWALW”

Firs off, I should point out that due to the crazy schedule I work, I rarely get the chance to do much cooking during the week.  Between driving to football practice, picking up at aftercare and whatever activities the Principessa has going on it’s usually a miracle if anything home cooked gets put on the table that’s not leftovers.  So the weekend is when we let hair down. So to speak.

This past weekend we kicked off with (‘natch) a Bittman recipefor mussels and pasta.  Whenever  Bittman posts something involving seafood be it in Bitten or The Minimalist (or both) there’s a good chance we’re going to cook it on Friday night.  Not that we’re religious fanatics or anything, it just works out that way.  Anyway, killer recipe, will do again.

Saturday was an Indian feast,  Jerzeetomato style.  Steve Raichlen’s “Tandoori Style Beer Can Chicken” but instead of beer we used some wine from the packing crate in the fridge.  The Principessa made raita, some wonderful cauliflower and a pilaf from Julie Sahni’s “Classic Indian Cooking” and we also did some chapatis on the grill from (you guessed it) Bittman.  Lots of work for this meal and lots of clean up, which prompted the Principessa to refer to it as “Fricking Indian Thanksgiving”

Sunday, keeping it simple since it was the kickoff for the NFL season and we wanted to spend quality time with the flat screen, we grilled bison steaks we got at the Montclair farmer’s market and made a version of  “Ass the Potatoes” from Mom’s first book. (someday we’ll share the  story of how that dish was named, but for now, buy the book)  Potatoes were fingerlings from the “organic guy” at the farmer’s market.

And one more Bittman on Monday.  We managed to crank out the Pork Skewers with Peanut Basil Sauce and had them with some leftover pilaf.  Good stuff and we realized that the peanut basil marinade/sauce would be good on just about any kind of skewer.  Or just eaten from the bowl with a spoon for that matter.

Excuse me, I need to go fire up the sprayer.  Again.