Summer Yummy Yellow Watermelon

We've been enjoying a treat: yellow watermelon.  It's WAAAAY better than regular watermelon, especially if you serve it icy cold on a hot, hot day. 

L plus 6 hours

Yes, it's over.  

I woke up this morning at 4 a.m., lay in bed for a while and finally gave up at 5 a.m.  After getting ready, packing the car up (again), and trying to eat breakfast (I couldn't) I was on the road at 6:55 a.m.  Only 5 minutes behind schedule.  Not bad. A stop to pick up the 18 boxes of spinach brought further freak-out when she saw me and said, "I have your 8 boxes."  I guess she saw the look on my face and the panic in my voice, but happily they managed to find the other 10, and I was on my way. 

 

Lots of lugging in from the car.  Dave was headed over to Costco to get the rolls.  Here are all the million batches of cakes, wrapped in foil.

Here I am, a poster child for the ingredients for the chocolate ganache: butter, cream, chocolate.  So I made up one batch and when I came back to it after some time, there were little bubbles in it, and it looked lumpy, greasy.  So I made a new batch, and that one was silky smooth--and I barely let it heat up before I turned off the burner.  It's hard to figure out someone else's stovetop.

Sue started on washing the mini-pearl grape tomatoes and draining the cornichons (little French pickles), so the crew could start putting together the garnishes.

Take one tomato, one cornichon, and spear it onto the pick.

The presidency of our women's organization stopped by.  We all look pretty dolled up for 8:00 in the morning!

 

 Dave and Carrie work on slicing open the rolls, and stuffing them with either turkey or ham.

Lora is spreading the "jam" onto the cake tops. 

I wanted a shot of her putting the kumquat decoration on, but she told me no more photos!

The cake, ready to go out onto the tables. You try putting 10 almonds around the cake, evenly spaced.  I had to re-do a few.

Here it is, bird's-eye view.  The quinoa salad is lower, the confetti pasta salad, upper, and Le Petit Sandwich (with garnish).  The chocolate eggs are decoration.  I snagged one at one point, but lost it again.

Robyn, Jana and Sue in their assembly line. I had an amazing crew of women who really made the process feel easy and relaxed.  They were so efficient, we were all done with all the plating, the setting out by 11:00 a.m.  So the kitchen crew sat down to eat.  It felt really good to sit down!

 Here it all is, waiting for the ladies to get out of their workshops. Photo courtesy of Dave, because I was running around like the proverbial headless chicken.  Or something.

I like this photo of Dave's because the woman in the orange shirt is reading off my table card to the woman in the white.  Apparently a lot of the table cards had been taken when the helpers went to break down the table settings.  We had a lot of nice comments about the food.  One woman said she looked at her plate, "and there wasn't a marshmallow in sight!" referring to the CoolWhipMarshmallowPudding side dish that is often served. She was thrilled. Another noted that we "didn't have that old Chinese Chicken Salad" entree.  Which I do like.  Just not every time we have a luncheon.  I had one woman happy as can be that we had a gluten-free dish (the quinoa).  Many of the salad-bringers commented on all the vegetables and the chopping and that they now had new dish in their repertoire. 

Because of all the great help we had, the kitchen was cleared out, dishes done and Dave and I were headed home by 1:15.  It's over.  The Great Luncheon Caper is complete.  Guess what we're having for dinner?  Yep.  Pasta and quinoa salad with Le Petit Sandwiches (complete with garnish).

L minus 19 Hours

The luncheon is 19 hours from now and the feeling I have is like the opening scene from Cats, the Broadway musical.  The cats are prowling, meowing around the stage and all of a sudden a giant shoe drops from the ceiling.

I've several people think that they needed to triple the recipe (because I mentioned somewhere in the directions that it was tripled).  So instead of sweating that I may not have enough salad, I may be drowning in Quinoa, Corn and Edamame Salad.  Or Confetti Pasta Salad. (Links to the single recipe's amounts are at the bottom of those entries.)

I made table cards listing the menu and where the recipes could be found, but forgot to mention that they needed to cut the cakes near them (we're putting them out on the table) into 10 servings.  So, above you see the cake signs.

Some people said they can't find Herbes de Provence.  A pinch of rosemary, pinch of oregano, a pinch of thyme, I tell them--use that instead, and hope that it's reasonably close.  I forgot to buy one helper's ingredients.  She'll get it, she said.

I spent the morning in the car dealer's getting a tune-up for the car.  You have a nail in your tire, they said.  It will have to stay there until Monday, I said.  I picked up the tomatoes from Trader Joe's--not a hitch--but the spinach that I'd ordered from Smart and Final--first 30 boxes, then I called back the next day and revised the order downward to 20--is all in and ready for me to pick it up tomorrow.  And wouldn't you know it--they have 30 boxes for me. I take a lot of deep breaths.  Say a lot of prayers.  Hope that the 300 women coming tomorrow like the menu, the salads, the cake.  And spinach.

L minus 18 3/4 and I'm waiting for that shoe to drop.

Afternoon Break

Our local bakery, right across the street from the eye doctor, makes such lovely cookies.

Dinner: A Love Story

I happened on this article in the New York Times, while I was avoiding going outside in the 96-degree heat (I'm a heat wimp), and loved the idea that Jenny Rosenstrach had chronicled what she had cooked for her family in a small journal.  Of course, I love the idea of journals, and the dailiness of life that they can portray.  I'm always drawn to epistolary novels, the characters' lives revealed day by day (although a steady diet of those can get tiresome) and think that our own personal journals can function as sort of an epistolary fiction/fact/memoir in some way.

I clicked over to her website, Dinner: A Love Story, and browsed through it.  (I'm sure her hits for the day will go through the roof) and loved what I saw at the end of one of the posts.

Make Dinner, Not War.

My mother did just this for years and years and year, and now apparently, my Dad does a lot of the cooking, while she's busy recovering from various physical challenges.  I've followed in their footsteps, but we've always been a household that revolved around the table.

There's a saying around my husband's family that while his father was down in the basement, challenging the young adult grandchildren to get out and change the world, his mother was upstairs in the kitchen, fixing dinner and doing just that, meal by meal.

Classic French Berry Tart

Click on the above photo to head over to the newest entry at Elizabeth Cooks: a class French Berry Tart. You can also read about how we screwed up the first time, when making it for the church pie-baking contest.

And Happy Birthday to my sister Susan! This piece is for you.

PhotoShopCook

Because I had such a lovely Mother's Day with cards from many thoughtful people/children/husband and calls from many thoughtful people/children/husband, I thought I'd make some cookies for you.

Adobe Photoshop Cook from Lait Noir on Vimeo.

Homemade Biscotti is Like No Other. Really.

Somewhere in the middle of grading, when the papers are like the flights currently stuck in Europe because of the Iceland volcano--no end in sight and no relief--my mind always turns to baking to ease the pain.

This episode's relief recipe is homemade biscotti. I've posted the recipe and the origin over on my recipe blog, Elizabeth Cooks. They're not a difficult cookie to make and the texture is so different than store-bought biscotti, that I'll probably be ruined for an easy Costco purchase forever.

Research papers come in next Wednesday. Stay tuned for that baking frenzy.

Thiebaud on the Brain

The wedding of a friend was held in the mountains of Santa Cruz, California, at a location with one name: Nestldown, and the main event was held in the "cabin"--a rustic, yet fine building with soaring ceilings, pine walls, and an elegantly set reception.

Over in the corner was the dessert table: one side full of cookies as the groom was from originally from Pittsburgh, and the bride corralled all her friends to bring the wedding cookie tradition to this celebration. (And yes, they had pizzelles.)

The other side was a rendition of the cake still life painting by Wayne Theibaud. My husband and I had just taken in the Thiebaud retrospective at the San Jose Museum of Art that morning, and laughed when we saw this. I waited until they cut the little tiny cake with the looping scallops of pink to have my slice of wedding cake. It was luscious lemon chiffon. The original painting is shown below, my lame snapshot of it taken when we last visited the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC, where it hangs.

Ladies Auxiliary Church Dinner

While our church dinner tonight with the ladies auxiliary didn't look anything like the one to the left--the women in the photo all in pert little hats and wide flowing skirts--we sat around round tables with real tablecloths, our fancy table setting of stemware, silver and real plates borrowed just for the occasion.

I was one in forty there tonight, but all over our church this month, women in many congregations gather to celebrate the birthday of the women's auxiliary, a proud occasion. I like this annual event, and brought my little gift to exchange, my chicken dish, and even lent them my husband to help serve, do dishes and to put away the tables and chairs at the end of the night. However they may soon ban me from the bring-a-dish volunteer.

When I was handed the recipe for the chicken dish, I inwardly groaned. It was like those recipes I used to cook in the 1970s, that always included opening a can of cream-of-something soup and pouring all over the chicken, topping with cheese and then bread crumbs drenched with butter, then baking for one hour. High fat, high sodium, low flavor. So as we stood in the hallway, the food lady and I, I asked if I could substitute the canned soup for a homemade white sauce, as we didn't keep those cans around: too much sodium.
Sure.
Then do you mind if I switch it to a broth-based sauce and cut out the cheese? Lactose intolerant and low fat, you see.
Sure.
Can I leave off the butter off the bread crumbs? That low fat thing again.
Yeah, whatever. Just have it there by 6:30, hot.

I made Ginger-Orange Chicken, and was served last (by my husband) which was fine with me because I didn't really want to upset the karma of the universe too much. But really. Church ladies! Time to update those recipe files. There's been a huge food revolution the last five years with Michael Pollan's books, slow foods, and locally grown food cooperatives among other things. Time to throw out a few recipes and learn how to cook the newer way. Like your hairstyle from high school has to change, so should your cooking. I didn't utter any of these radical sentiments at the dinner table, but three women asked if they could have a bite of my chicken.

Sure. No problem.

P.S. Recipe can be found *here* at ElizabethCooks.com.

N'Arlins Food

Over at ElizabethCooks.com I posted recipes for some Saints-Be-Praised-They-Won-The-Superbowl Food. One recipe is for Scallop Gumbo (really good, but you have to watch the roux so it won't burn) and the other was an old favorite: Cajun Jamalaya.

These dishes will also work well for Mardi Gras, which according to the internet is in about ten days, on February 16th. In case that doesn't float your Mardi Gras float, I also have posted a few others that have been hanging around for a while.

Butternut Crunch Toffee

I've posted another round of recipes on my other blog: Elizabeth's Kitchen. One of them is this one, Butternut Crunch Toffee. I have also put up the menu from my husband's work Open House, and a TON of recipes from that event. In addition, I updated the caramel recipe, adding a few more pictures showing how to wrap those little bits of goodness. Enjoy.

On a side note, my son Matthew hooked me up with a domain name, so now I'm a full-fledged contributing member to Web 2.0 as elizabethcooks.com. He also set it up so it refers over to the current Elizabeth's Kitchen. I'm completely impressed with his skills. My other son, Peter, is trying to work some kind of magic somewhere as well on this. Should be a fun Christmas break, as we pull out the laptops to see what will go down. Thanks, boys!

Mother's Wheat Germ Bread

I think about the fires recently in the hills around us here in Southern California, and remember back to the Oakland California fires in an earlier era. While many stories were poignant and very sad, one that has stuck in my memory is the story of the woman who lost everything in the fire. Interestingly, she despaired the most over the loss of her recipes, some of which were family treasures passed down for several generations. (I have a few of those as well.)

Some weeks after the fire, one of her neighbors found out where she was living, and brought her a loaf of her own bread, with the recipe attached to it. Little by little, her recipes came back to her, because she had shared them.

My mother cooked for a crowd: her family of seven children. I remember coming home as a teenager to the smell of this bread, freshly baked. It was perfect in the afternoons, just warm crumbly bread, some homemade jam, and a glass of milk. Of course the fantasy memory might include then happily skipping off to do the homework, but I think the real memory probably was slicing one more slice, in order to avoid leaving Mom’s kitchen and her good bread. This is one recipe I don’t want to lose, so I’m posting it here. It's also over at Elizabeth's Kitchen.

Mother’s Wheat Germ Bread

Combine in a mixer bowl:
1 1/2 cups boiling water
6 Tbls. shortening (I suppose you could substitute butter)
1/2 cup honey
1 teaspoon salt.

Dissolve 2 packages yeast in 1/2 cup warm water and add to above mixture. Then add 2 eggs, mixing well, but not overbeating.

Add: 1 cup wheat germ and 3 cups white flour and beat for 2 minutes at medium speed. Blend in 2 1/2 cups more flour.

“Blob it in” (the recipe says) into 2 greased loaf “tins,” and let rise to within 1″ of the top of the pan.

Bake at 375 degrees for 45-50 minutes. Brush tops with melted butter.

I find that I’m used to a more complete recipe these days: Do I turn the loaves out onto racks immediately, or let them cool for 10 minutes in the pan? When do I brush on the melted butter? How long do I mix the dough? This is a recipe from days when most women cooked, and cooked regularly, and knew what to do. I smile at even earlier recipes that say things like “Cook in a moderate oven until done.” Translation, please?

No photo of the bread. When it stops hitting temperatures past the hundred-degree mark, I’ll make some, for old times sake, and post a photo then.

And Dinner Tonight Was. . .

White Fish with Green Gazpacho Sauce. Make extra sauce (included in my version) because it you'll find yourself wanting to eat more. Since it's so lo-cal and good for you, no guilt when you do.


Head over to Elizabeth's Kitchen for the recipe and comments (click on image to your right, in sidebar).

And the update on Tattoo Student is this:
He wrote a pretty good paper. It has some problems, but he was able to nail quite a few of the elements.

And he complained to the Dept. Chair that because I'd asked him to walk around OUTSIDE, instead of IN my classroom, I wasn't accommodating him on ADA guidelines. Turns out he's most worried that I'll drop him. I told the Chair that Tattoo Student's problem is that he doesn't read and he doesn't listen.

If he read the syllabus that I gave to him when he came to class (he missed the first day and the Age Old Tradition of the Reading of the Syllabus) it clearly states that I don't drop students. I tell them, you got yourself in here, you can get yourself out. And if he'd listened, he'd have heard that I offered him the chance to lie down on my classroom floor with his pillow if he wanted (although with budget cutbacks and sporadic custodial service, who'd want to?).

I just carried home 55 papers to grade this weekend. That should explain why I took time out to cook a nice dinner.

Recipes in the Cloud

I just think I ought to do one more blog.
But this one really isn't.
It's just recipes in the cloud, for safekeeping and for access.
Click on the picture above or head to elizabethskitchen.wordpress.com.
If you would a particular recipe up there, send me an email (or leave a comment). It has to be one I've already cooked, or one you need right now so you can take it to the ward dinner.

(Yes, it's a wordpress blog. Peter's teaching me, little by little.)

Mastering the Art of French Cooking

Last night Dave and I went to see the movie Julie and Julia. I'd read all the pre-event publicity--the interview in the NYTimes with Nora Ephron and the reporter making an apple tart, press about the food stylists, press about the preparation of the food, director's musings (that would be Nora Ephron again), analysis by Julia Child's friends and relatives--and I was ready.

We stood in a line at our theater, while the local oldies station was having a Spin the Dial and DJ event to publicize the opening. While standing there, thinking how nice this was that they'd publicize the opening, a couple approached us and asked us if we'd like two free tickets. Sure, we said. They slipped in line in front of us--seems they got them from the oldies radio station--and they'd get the tickets then give the two free ones to us. We chatted for a bit, then she said, "You are in line for the GI Joe opening, right?"

My first thought was "Do we look like the type that goes to GI Joe movies?"
But I said, "No, we're here for the Julie/Julia movie. " Dave added, "At 7 p.m."

Oh, they said, and started asking others if they wanted free tickets. Okay, I should have known that the oldies station wouldn't gear up for a movie about cooking.

I noticed that the audience in our movie was trending toward Social Security recipients, but we found our seats, and endured the endless previews (We found one we won't be seeing: "Stepfather," about a guy who's trying to marry into a family with children and turns out to be a murderer. Great.).

It was worth it. The movie is a four forks rating, two thumbs up, a veritable delight. We laughed and laughed and were pulled into the Meryl Streep magic, and empathized with the plight of Amy Adams' character (as well as her husband). We got a kick out of seeing Blogger in its infancy, and liked the fact that the movie was about the cooking and creating of the food, rather than the emphasis found in many current shows--that of the consuming of it, as well as trying to create it under manufactured false pressures. (Note to producers: I want to see a reality show of trying to fix a balanced meal, having just discovered you are missing a key ingredient, all the while answering phone calls, supervising homework, and navigating the toys strewn around the kitchen by the toddler and the baby. None of this Iron Chef stuff. I want Iron Mother.)

I went home and thought about buying Mastering the Art of French Cooking, you know, just to have the book. Actually the scene with the chocolate cake was a real motivator.
The copies I saw on Amazon were running in the fifty-buck-and-up range for a vintage book.

So, we're eating dinner tonight and I idly look over at the bookcase. There between The Naked Chef and Fannie Farmer is. . . yes! Mastering the Art of French Cooking. I recognized the cover as being similar to the one shown in the movie last night. Can't believe it.

It's got some food stains on the front, and when I opened the cover, neatly penciled in the corner is the price: $8.00.

It's a first edition, 10th printing in August of 1965. I must have purchased it at an estate sale here in Riverside. I wonder if I bought it at Norma Baricelli's sale; she was a neighbor who also taught me at RCC. I have no idea really, but I did pick up quite a few cookbooks at that sale.

So now I check Amazon since I have more specific details, in order to find out the worth of this book. I like that it has the same printed cover as the one in the movie, and see the little "Ecole des 3 Gourmands" logo facing the title page. I wonder if it's worth that 50 bucks that I'd seen before.

Nope.
It's worth $149.

While the emotions settle from my trip to my daughter's, I offer up a Christmas treat: Gingerbread Cookies. Of course they are best after being frosted and sitting for a day or two in a sealed container, restoring some moistness. This recipe is from the King Arthur Flour Cookie Companion, a recommended buy for the kitchen recipe collection.

Why did I make these? Dave had a work party to go to and we were supposed to take something. I was craving gingerbread, and I did half the batch (roll, bake, frost, decorate) in a short time. They were a hit with the Chinese couple that were hosting the party.

Gingerbread Cookies
3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) real butter
3/4 cup light brown sugar
3/4 molasses (I use the green label, the really full-bodied molasses)
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons cinnamon
2 teaspoons ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon allspice or ground cloves
1 large egg
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
3 1/2 cups flour

Melt the butter, then pour into the mixing bowl and stir in the sugar, molasses, salt and spices. Let it cool to lukewarm, then beat in the egg.

In a large bowl, whisk the baking powder and soda into the flour, then stir these into the molasses mixture. Divide the dough in half and place in a ziploc bag (or wrap well in plastic wrap). Refrigerate for 1 hour or longer (I did 30 minutes and was fine, but I was in a hurry).

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. No need to grease the baking sheets.

Take on piece of dough out of the fridge and using a floured surface and rolling pin, roll it out to 1/4" thickness, if you like your cookies a little chewier. Cut out shapes with a cookie cutter, cutting them as close to one another as possible.

Transfer the cookies to an ungreased cookie sheet and bake until they're slightly brown around the edges, about 8-12 minutes. At least that's what the recipe says but I couldn't see it. I set the timer to 8 minutes, or until they felt firm, then took them out. Transfer them to a rack immediately, but be careful not to distort the shapes as you remove them. (The recipe says leave them on the cookie sheet, but I did and they were too cool and brittle and the star points broke off.)

To frost:
Mix together 2 cups powdered (confectioners' sugar) and enough water to make a stiff frosting. Slather it into the corner of a sturdy plastic bag (quart-sized freezer ziploc bags work fine). Snip off the tip, and scrunch down the bag, forcing it out through the hole. I outlined all the stars, then placed dragees on each tip, using up my precious stash hauled back from DC.


What are dragees? Those little silver balls we used to find on cupcakes. They're outlawed in California, so I have to get them when I head East.

Fall? Here?

Well, even though it's going to be in the 90s today, temperature-wise, a writer for the LATimes (a transplant from the East Coast) said you just have to decide on a day for it to be fall, and then change out the clothes in your wardrobe.

Well, I don't feel like wearing sweaters when its 90 degrees outside, but I did change out the table linens this morning--away with popsicles and cherries and brightly colored prints and in with oranges, rusts, purples and fall tones.

Then today the New York Times published this amazing picture and recipe. I plan to try it. . . when it drops below 80 degrees here. . .maybe in October?

Pureed Red Pepper and Potato Soup
New York Times Recipe

This is a beautiful soup with a deep, rich flavor to match the color. Make sure to strain the soup after you puree it, a quick step that also saves you the trouble of peeling the peppers.

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, plus a drizzle for serving
1 medium onion, chopped
1 large carrot, peeled and chopped
Salt, preferably kosher
4 plump garlic cloves, green shoots removed, minced
1 tablespoon tomato paste
2 pounds (4 large) red bell peppers, seeded, membranes removed, cut in large dice
2 teaspoons sweet paprika
1 pound russet potatoes (about 2 medium), peeled and diced
2 quarts chicken or vegetable stock
A bouquet garni made with a bay leaf and a couple of sprigs each thyme and parsley, tied together in a bundle
Freshly ground pepper
For garnish (optional):
Garlic croutons (toast thin slices of baguette and rub with a cut clove of garlic)
Slivered basil leaves or chopped fresh thyme leaves

1. Heat the olive oil over medium heat in a large, heavy soup pot, and add the onion and carrot. Cook, stirring often, until the onion begins to soften, and then add 1/2 teaspoon salt. Continue to cook, stirring often, until tender, about 5 minutes, and stir in the garlic and tomato paste. Stir for a minute or two, until the garlic is fragrant and the tomato paste has darkened, and then add the peppers, paprika, and another 1/2 teaspoon salt. Cook, stirring often, until the peppers begin to soften, about 5 minutes.

2. Add the potatoes, stock, and bouquet garni, and bring to a simmer. Add salt to taste, one to two teaspoons, cover and simmer over low heat for one hour. Remove the bouquet garni.

3. Blend the soup until smooth in an immersion blender, or in a blender or food processor fitted with a steel blade. Work in batches, and cover the blender lid or food processor with a kitchen towel to prevent the hot soup from splashing. Strain the soup through a medium strainer, pushing it through the strainer with a spatula or the bowl of a ladle, and return to the heat. Heat through, add salt and pepper to taste, and serve. Garnish with garlic croutons and slivered fresh basil or chopped thyme, and drizzle a few drops of olive oil over each serving if desired.

Yield: Serves six to eight


Since I haven't made it yet, let me know how it tastes, and what changes I should make.
Happy Fall!

When we were little girls, our father used to travel the road to Brattleboro Vermont quite frequently. So when I was looking through my King Arthur Cookie book for something new to bake, I was attracted to these cookies not only for their name, but because they were a specialty of a local baker in Brattleboro.

Brattleboro Bonbons
3/4 cup plus 1 Tbls. unsalted butter (1 1/2 sticks, plus 1 Tbs.)
1/2 cup sugar
heaping 1/2 teaspoon salt
1 large egg plus 1 large egg yolk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup chopped pecans (for the dough)
1/2-1 cup finely chopped pecans (to roll on the outside of the dough)
2 cups flour

Cream together the butter, sugar and salt. Beat in the egg, egg yolk, and vanilla, scraping the bottom and sides of the bowl. Stir in the 1/2 cup chopped pecans and flour, mixing until cohesive.

Lay out a large sheet of wax paper. On this, shape the dough into a 17 x 2-inch log and roll the log in the finely chopped pecans. Wrap the log up (they suggest plastic wrap as well, but I just did the wax paper) and place in the freezer for about an hour.

Preheat the oven to 375F. Line with parchment two baking sheets. Slice the frozen dough into 1/4-inch thick patties and place them on the prepared baking sheets. Bake for 12 to 15 minutes until they're a deep golden brown and they feel set. Transfer to a rack to cool.

Note: We like less brittle cookies, so I only cooked them for the 12 minute time, preferring a light golden brown.

Good for days when life takes you for a ride. . .

Angel-Hair Pasta with Fresh Tomato Sauce

Start here: with fresh tomatoes from the garden, or good quality toms from the farmer's market.

Recipe is from an old Gourmet magazine (no date):
1 small clove garlic
1 pinch salt
3 lbs tomatoes (I used 4-5 large tomatoes)
2 Tbs fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
1 lb capellini (angel-hair pasta)
1/4-1/2 cup chopped fresh basil (I used 1/4 cup of basil ribbons)

Mince garlic and mash to a paste with the pinch of salt, using a large heavy knife (or a cheap small one with lots of leaning on it).

Core and coarsely chop two-thirds of tomatoes (I left the skins on and it wasn't a problem). Halve remaining tomatoes crosswise, then rub cut sides of tomatoes against large holes of a box grater set in a large bowl (very important!), reserving pulp and discarding skin. Toss pulp with chopped tomatoes, garlic paste, lemon juice, 1 tsp. salt, sugar and pepper. Let stand until ready to use, at least 10 minutes and up to 2 hours.

While tomatoes stand, cook angel hair pasta in a large pot of boiling water (I didn't add salt), uncovered, until al dente, about 2-3 minutes. (Mine took about 4 minutes--test continuously so you don't overcook.) Drain and immediately add to tomato mixture, tossing to combine. Sprinkle with basil. Pass salt and pepper at the table.

Amazing! I loved this and it was really really easy and fast. Perfect for this week's weather (topping nearly 100 degrees).