Tomatoeville

Grandpa planted lots of tomatoes again this year. We have red ones, yellow ones, cherry ones, and little yellow ones that look like tiny squashes. Those are the best. We have tons of tomatoes. We also have Grandma Florence's spaghetti sauce recipe, so with all those ripe tomatoes, it seemed only logical to make spaghetti sauce. This isn't a decision to be made lightly, because it makes for one hard day. We had plenty of help, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been.



Sweetie K was our best peeler. That has to be the worst job ever. She loves to cook, just like her parents, so she's a real trouper. Her Nana DOES NOT love to cook. Her Nana would rather scrub toilets. Be that as it may. . . . .

We had a pretty good system. Boil the tomatoes until the skin starts to split, (well, Jeez, we're just going to cook them again, right?) dump them in the cold water in the sink, give them a little squeeze, and viola! Peeled tomatoes!

Sister B told us she did salsa and peeled tomatoes for hours. She was impressed with the cook and pinch method we used.



Little Man helped too. He picked the green stems off the tomatoes, and he posed with them. He's certainly not camera shy. The Romas were just the right size for his pudgy little hands. His daddy despairs of those hands. He thinks they are huge. Can you see how tall he is to the cabinet? He tells his mommy and me, "Don't wowwy. I will alwayth be yo baby." He's Mommy's and Nana's baby, and Daddy's and Grandpa's big boy. He's also a ham.




Mommy wanted the tomatoes squished before we started to cook them, so we scrubbed up like for surgery and squished. Sweety K wasn't entirely sure it was such a good idea. Little Man loved it cause it was so gwoth. He was right, it was kind of gross.



We are awesome tomatoe squishers. It was done in no time at all and the tomatoe guts were transferred to a bigger pot so more ingredients could be added and the cooking could begin.



Daddy and Bubby were working on the bathroom downstairs. They needed new worker gloves, and I found a pair that were just the right size for St. Bernard puppy paws. They were invaluable when it came time to chop up all those onions. We all cried like babies. They were particularly potent onions that day.



Bubble, bubble, boil and trouble. I'm not up on my Shakespeare, but it goes something like that. Sweetie K stirred her pot for nearly two hours, just like her sister did the batch before this one. I'm telling you, these kids are jewels! The last time I made this stuff by myself, I swore it would never happen again.



Canning just wears a body out. I have no idea how he got into this position, but he was sound asleep. I straightened him out right after I took the picture. When a boy works as hard as he did and then wakes up too early in the morning, he deserves to fall back to sleep, even if he's twisted up like a pretzel. At least he wasn't squished like a tomatoe.