A few days ago, I mentioned having oodles and oodles of not noodles, but tomatoes. I even mentioned a few suggestions. Here you go, folks, the results of Daisy’s Overabundance of Ripe Tomatoes!

Lotsa Salsa!

I do mean a lot, too. It took two sessions in the hot water bath canner – my big one! – to process all of it.

In the category of “It’s only weird if it doesn’t work” (Thanks, Budweiser), we have Eating the Opponent, Philadelphia: Tomato Pie!

Tomato Pie!

Well, it didn’t work. The game against the Eagles was a disaster in many ways. I might make the tomato pie again some day, though. It was good. I served it with diced Golden Delicious apples from a farm stand near La Petite’s abode in Lake Geneva.

The calendar may say November, but we’re still eating goodies that were grown locally or nearly so, including tomatoes from my own backyard. Click your heels three times, now, and say, “There’s nothing like homegrown tomatoes. There’s nothing like…” Or something like that.