Who ever heard of dipping French fries in anything but catsup? Sure, I’ve tried ranch dressing and it’s all well and good, but catsup on fries and a burger is what it’s all about. And what could be better than homegrown, homemade tomato catsup? Four-and-a-half gallons, to be precise.
Over the past half-dozen or so summers, I have endeavored to produce palatable catsup, with Gluten-Free Mama applying her talents in the form of a recipe. This set of directions has undergone revision numerous times resulting in what everyone has concluded is a great success, but what must be considered first is what kind of tomatoes work best.
There was a time when I was of the opinion that if you cooked tomato sauce down long enough, it would eventually thicken to the correct consistency, and you would be good to go. Sadly, such proved not to be the case, with two primary factors affecting matters: Any remote instance of scorching on the bottom of the saucepan will taint the entire batch, no matter how small or how big.
Additionally, the juicier the tomatoes, the more liquid there is that needs to evaporate, so strains like Ace or beefsteak, as much as the tomatoes are huge, are not good candidates. Gluten-Free Mama did her homework, and determined that the tomato that gave us the best shot at successfully making catsup, is the Heinz variety.
She ordered the seeds, we started them in the greenhouse in a timely manner, and I planted them out in early June. I had been hoping for 120 altogether, but this spring was the wettest in California history, and we ended up with a paltry seventy or so which I duly planted.
The Heinz variety is not a big tomato, relying on quantity to make up for its smallish size. They are also practically devoid of juice, being incredibly dense, meaty fruit, and therefore best suited for the ultimate goal of creating catsup with the proper thickness.
Gluten-Free Mama also provided me with a diffuser, a device which sits on the burner, between that and the saucepan itself, and helps prevent scorching. In a perfect world I would have had two diffusers, because the saucepan I used was so mammoth it easily could have fully encompassed two burners. As it was, I used only the one, with the only minor consequence being that the process took longer: 44 hours altogether. I started with six and a half gallons of sauce, added more than a gallon of vinegar, and brought the mixture to a low, rolling boil, before adjusting the heat downwards.
I never allowed the burner past about one-third of the way up, from this point onward, so a medium fire at most, and I stirred it every time I was in the vicinity, as did GF Mama. The house smelled intoxicatingly good as the spices kicked in, both those blended directly into the sauce, as well as the cheesecloth bag containing spices that had more substance, like cinnamon sticks and cloves.
It goes without saying that I guard this recipe with my very life, and with good reason. Developed by GF Mama through trial and error, it represents much research, including a couple of early batches that relied on reputation alone, as homemade, to make it to the point where they were actually consumed.
Nonetheless, the end result of this most recent batch are the sixty half-pints that SmallBoy picked up at Geiger’s the other day, plus another half-dozen pints, a grand total of 18 quarts, or four-and-a-half gallons. From the first taste I took after adding all the ingredients, to the final one just prior to filling the jars, my taste buds have been thrilled.
Despite all of the adversity the orchard has provided for me this summer, with gophers, water issues and those insidious little ground squirrels, who swoop down on the just-ripening tomatoes, and ravage them, this homemade catsup is as good as it gets.
Farming has numerous benefits to be gained but none as rewarding as this kind of successful outcome to a direct challenge. Organic, homemade catsup on piping hot, homemade French fries from organic potatoes, and I am sorry to leave you with this savory image. Before you leave, though, could you pass the salt, please?
I did say please…
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