Being young and cash poor, my parents bought a fixer upper for their first home. It was on a hill, painted white and electric blue, and the interior had lots of shaggy carpet. My father did not tell my mother until after they moved out, but the previous owner hanged himself in the attic right above their bedroom. This is one of the reasons they got such a great deal on the house.

I loved that house and mental snap shots of it pepper all my early memories. The neighbors across the street had two boys, about 8 years older than me, that I absolutely adored. They doted on me and we would play in the yard for hours, splashing in the pool in the summer and building snowmen during the winter. There was an elderly man, Louie, who lived next door and I would always chirp away at him through the chain-link fence. He was patient and kind with me, a very curious and talkative child.

He had a large tomato garden and I have fond memories of him handing me those juicy, red jewels, warm from the vine. He would give my mother bags upon bags of them in the summer, which she would cart home and dole out to me through the week. I loved those tomatoes…and when I was two years old, my mother found out just how much.

One morning, she awoke and walked to my bedroom. She didn’t find me in my bed, so she stumbled down the stairs, anxious about discovering exactly what kind of trouble I had gotten myself in to. There I sat, in front of the fridge, covered from head to toe in what remained of a whole entire grocery bag of tomatoes. Seeds and pulp matted my hair and stained my pajamas, and a puddle of reddish goo surrounded me on the floor. This story proves to me that you are who you are, even at a very young age, Even at the age of two, I had serious issues with self control and indulging my id. If I wanted something, I was going to have it, even if it resulted in punishment and physical pain.

My love for tomatoes has not waned over the years. The communal table at work has been teeming with them, dragged in from coworkers’ gardens. I always make sure to grab a few, eating them on salads and slicing them on to sandwiches. This week, I decided to make a tomato sauce using fresh and canned tomatoes. What resulted was a chunky, fresh sauce with a nice contrast of flavor. I was out of a few things, but made due with what I had on hand (the splash of balsamic was key in amping up the flavor). If I had it on hand, I would have added a teaspoon of fennel seeds to the onions and garlic as they cooked. Also, dry basil would have added a more intense flavor, but turns out we had run out. When I make this sauce again, I will add it in conjunction with the fresh. This is a fast cooking sauce, for those nights when you are in a rush. I cheated a bit by using the immersion blender, but it cut about an hour off cooking time, so I think it can be forgiven.

This is a perfect summer tomato sauce…enjoy, just don’t eat the whole pot.

(And hey! Before you leave! It is Wednesday, so don’t forget to check out what crazy thing I am eating over at So Good in my weekly column, “I Try It So You Don’t Have To“.)

Tomato Sauce

Lemmonex Original

2 tablespoons olive oil

1/2 onion, diced

2 cloves garlic, minced

1– 28 oz. can crushed tomatoes

3 large tomatoes, diced

1/2 tablespoon dry oregano

2 bay leaves

Pinch red pepper flakes

2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar

1 tablespoon white sugar

8 basil leaves, cut in to ribbons

Salt and pepper, to taste

In large pot, cook onion and garlic in oil until soft, about 8 minutes. Add remaining ingredients, through basil, and cook at med-high heat for 15 minutes. Add basil, salt, and pepper and cook for another 10 minutes. Sauce will be chunky…if you would like it smoother, puree a small amount (maybe 1.5 cups) in the blender or hit it with an immersion blender for about 25 seconds.