It Was Hot, It Was Windy and It Was.....

......37.1 Celsius (98f) just another hot day during the hottest summer on record and what did we do? We made tomato sauce. Almost every year (I think we've only missed one or two) since DH and I have been married we've made sauce. We all complain bitterly and moan and groan but just between you, me and the gate post we all secretly enjoy it.
We all gather at my in-laws and set up. Everyone has their set job and as you get older your position in the pecking order rises. So because Erin is a newbie I'm afraid she had to start at the bottom. And that entails washing every tomato (we had 20 cases) and inspecting them for blemishes, the odd worm and anything else that shouldn't be there. She was a bit squeamish to begin with but after awhile became quite blase about the whole worm thing. Did you know the French used to call tomatoes pommes d'amour or love apples. See why?
Once they're washed they're put into a big copper and boiled to soften them. So the fire has to be tended to and remember it's 37c. Blokes love the fire!
The next process and the longest is putting them through the extractor machine. This separates the skin and seeds from the pulp.
Once the big white tub is full we start decanting into jars and bottles. Back in the bad old days we used to use a funnel and ladle, now we're a bit more sophisticated. Then once all the jars and bottles are filled they're stacked into 44 gal drums filled with water and a fire under them (remember it's 37c) brought to the boil and then left over night to cool.
So six hours and approx. 400 of these later we're finished for another year.
You're probably thinking that once we've finished and everything is cleaned up we sit down to a big bowl of pasta and sauce. Well you'd be wrong, we welcome the pizza delivery guy with open arms.

How to get out of cooking!

For quite some time now my pasta sauce has been the source (pardon the pun) of much mirth, hilarity and down right derogatory remarks from the kippers. Everytime I make it I get the same comment from them, "it doesn't taste like Nonnas" and I alway say it does, it's exactly the way she told me to make it. Then an episode of Everyone Loves Raymond pops into my head. Remember the one where Maree had given Debra her recipe for meat loaf I think and unbeknownst to Debra, Maree had deliberately left out a key ingredient. But my mother in law wouldn't do that, she loves me and according to the rest of the family she thinks the sun shines out of my bottom. Then I hear them mumbling words like "vile", "poison", "trying to kill us". So when the kippers ask whats for dinner and I say pasta, they all of a sudden have urgent and pressing errands they have to run and sorry they won't be home for dinner.
Or because I want to know how many I'm cooking for I'll send out a text message:
R U Hme 4 T. (you can tell I'm a baby boomer).
They'll text back, What r u cooking? (how come I can never find the question mark on my phone)
Pasta.
Sorry, I've got book club. BOOK CLUB! That boy has probably read 3 books in his life, all with words like Godfather, Mafia and Underbelly in the title. Book club...........as if.
Then the kipperette texts back:
Sorry, have important meeting after work. Yeh I'll bet, important meeting at some swanky bar drinking Cab Sav and eat tapas with the girls.
So then a few week ago, on one of the numerous days when the thought of deciding what to cook and then stopping on the way home to pick up the ingredients, then lugging it all inside and putting it away and then getting it all out again to start cooking was just too much to bare, it dawned on me. Send out the Pasta text and no one will be home for dinner and Chas and I can just have scrambled eggs! It works a treat.
Guess what's 4 dinner 2nite!!!!!