Tomato Gorgonzola Soup

I was bit by the gardening bug early.  Well, not bit exactly.  No, it was more like someone wedged a pair of twenty pound post-hole diggers into my sweaty prepubescent hands while marking off the circumference of five circles where holes should be dug at least two feet down. 

 

Yeah, it was exactly like that.

 

My dad marked the holes with the toe of his work boots which my mother referred to as “clodhoppers” when she threatened to make me wear them because I was “so rough on shoes”.  They were suede on top with a heavy, rubber sole and always carried a thick crust of orange-colored, red clay on the toe.  The clay didn’t come off, even as he drug the toe around and around, marking one hole after another, in a straight line, until he had five.

 

“Tomatoes have deep root systems.  Don’t stop until you’ve dug at least two feet!”, he reminded me, while wiping sweat from his generous forehead with the handkerchief he always carried in his pants pocket.  

 

Somewhere around the third hole, I started to picture my sisters and their perfect hair.  And, they were smiling.  But, of course they were.  They were inside, in the air conditioning, where it was nice and cool.  They were probably sitting in the den, watching television.  It was time for American Bandstand.  Posthole diggers slammed into the earth, harder and harder, until I couldn’t see how far down I had dug.  I wondered if I’d left a trail of dirt like the clay on top of my father’s boots as I wiped tears from my eyes and saw I’d have to dig a little more. 

 

Today, I am an avid gardener.  Among other things, I grow tomatoes.  I grow monster tomatoes that burst from their cages to tangle in a mass of hairy green branches that threatens to take over one whole side of my garden.  And, I do it without the assistance of posthole diggers.  Turns out tomatoes aren’t so finicky, after all.

 

Several times each summer I pick a tomato early, just as it begins to turn, while it’s still yellow nearest the stem.  A guy at work saves boxes for me that are just big enough to hold one, carefully bubble-wrapped tomato.  I apply a red and white “Fragile” sticker to the sides of the box not covered by the UPS label.  Sometimes my father calls when he gets the package. 

 

“I had a tomato sandwich for supper tonight, and I’ve got enough left over to have another one tomorrow!”

 

The excitement in his voice when he does call makes up for the times when he doesn’t.

 

I don’t eat raw tomatoes.  And, I’ve tried.  When we were kids, summer meant large slices on one side of our plates.  Mimicking my mother I dusted mine, generously, with salt and pepper…and it became something disgusting covered with salt and pepper.  My father relentlessly expressed his amazement that I didn’t like “his” tomatoes, especially when he’d grown them himself!  I listened as my thumb worked the patch of hardened skin the posthole diggers left behind.

 

I do like cooked tomatoes.  I can’t imagine french fries without ketchup, spaghetti without meat sauce, or life without brunswick stew.  In fact, my favorite cooked tomatoes are in soup.  Years of indoctrination leave me unable to eat a grilled cheese sandwich without a side of tomato soup. 

 

Unless it’s Tomato Gorgonzola Soup.  Tomato Gorgonzola Soup needs no accompaniment.  Well, perhaps a salad of mixed greens topped with homemade blue-cheese vinaigrette.  Mmmmmm….

 Tomato Gorgonzola Soup 

3 lbs. tomatoes, halved (Romas are good, heirlooms are better.)

3 tbl. olive oil

Salt & Pepper to taste

1 lg. onion chopped (Vidalias or Texas Sweet are best)

1 red bell pepper, chopped

3 cloves garlic, minced

3 tbl. good sherry

3 tbl. flour

½ c. gorgonzola cheese (Low-fat is okay)

½ c. cream cheese (You may use low-fat, but I think it loses something in the translation…)

½ c. half & half

5 c. organic chicken broth

1 tsp. salt

½ tsp. black pepper

1 can sliced new potatoes

3 tbl. fresh basil, minced

3 tbl. butter (Have you ever read a margarine label?)

 

Heat oven to 400 degrees.  Toss tomato halves with olive oil, salt, and pepper.  Place on baking sheet, skin side down.  Bake 1 hour.

Meanwhile, sauté onion, garlic, and bell pepper in butter until tender.  Add flour and cook for two minutes.  Add sherry and stir, being careful to scrape pan.  Add cheeses and half & half and stir until cheese melts.  Add all remaining ingredients except basil and simmer ½ hour.  Stir in basil.. 

Transfer mixture to blender and blend until creamy.

Pour into bowls to serve.

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