Abundance
Food writer Mark Diacono’s latest book is about living and eating in a way that’s deeply and richly connected to the seasons. In this edited extract from his September chapter he turns tomatoes and runner beans from the garden into the perfect bridge between summer and autumn
For the last few years, my wife has grown almost all of the annual vegetables – those sown, grown, harvested and gone in a single year – and right now summer-into-autumn me is very grateful to late-winter her for sowing those tomatoes in the propagator. Next year, with her busy on the herb allotment she’s developing, I’ll be back on the seeds.
Every year I do it, I grow five varieties of tomato: three favourites and two that are new to me. It’s a good rule for gardeners old and new. The law of averages means that even if you are beginner, three varieties will be special, one will be pretty good and one will be well… ordinary. Eat the three best ones, cook the pretty good one and give someone you pretend to like the ordinary ones. The two new varieties are important: they keep the door open to new flavours, to the possibility of new favourites and frankly it’s important to keep changing even the small things up.
There was a time when I couldn’t imagine a better tasting cherry tomato than Gardener’s Delight or Peacevine Cherry, but Honeycomb is genuinely such a wild upgrade on both that August-into-September wouldn’t be August-into-September without them.
So when I light that first fire of autumn, when the needle drops softly on to ‘River Man’, after I’ve slipped a stack of personal admin – safer burnt than recycled – into those first flames as if guiding paper into a fax machine, I will make a seed list and tomatoes will be top of it. And while I can almost smell the first log fire of autumn, I’m going to try to remember to keep my hand on summer’s end of the changing seasonal baton a little longer. There’s still so much to pick and to enjoy.
Fresh tomato, runner bean and tarragon pasta
While I can take no credit for this year’s tomatoes, the beans and so on, I can at least turn them into something that does them justice. This is the easiest, freshest, most wonderful of pasta dishes, and it uses raw tomatoes – retaining the brightness and delicacy of their summer flavour – alongside just-cooked and still-squeaky runner beans. It takes little time or effort – only the beans are cooked for the sauce – but you’ll have to commit five minutes of your time the night before.
I’ve been making versions of this raw tomato sauce for 30-odd years – it is so light and fresh, with a serious garlic poke – and I’m particularly attached to this version, where the height of the green bean season meets the best of the greenhouse. This is differently splendid with basil, but I am deep in the arms of tarragon love at the moment. Parmesan might be to your liking – I prefer it cleaner, without – but on you go if you fancy.
Serves 4
700g (1½lb) large, ripe tomatoes
6 garlic cloves, finely chopped
2 tbsp red wine vinegar
10 tbsp olive oil
50g (2oz) tarragon, leaves only, roughly chopped
500g (1lb 2oz) pasta – something like fusilloni that will cling on to the sauce
400g (14oz) runner beans, stalks removed
Zest of 1 lemon
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Half-fill a large bowl or pan with boiling water and lower the tomatoes in. After a couple of minutes, lift the tomatoes out of the water. Cut a cross in the end of each and remove the skin. Chop roughly, discarding the tough core. Place in a large bowl with the garlic, red wine vinegar, olive oil and tarragon. Cover and leave in the fridge overnight.
Bring a large pan of salted water to the boil and cook the pasta according to the packet instructions. Drain.
Meanwhile, bring a medium pan of salted water to the boil and lower the runner beans in. Return to a simmer and cook for anything from 2–5 minutes depending on their size and variety. They should be firm but giving to the bite, and still squeaky on the teeth. Drain and refresh with cold water to prevent the green turning to khaki. Slice on the angle, into 5cm (2in) pieces.
Stir half of the sauce into the pasta. Add the beans to the rest of the sauce and then stir this into the pasta. Season generously and spoon into four bowls. Sprinkle with lemon zest and serve immediately.
