Is it really the end of summer?

I know that, somehow, the "official" end of summer is Labor Day Weekend, although I sometimes hear it referred to as "the end of the summer season." Well, isn't that something that should go in the department of redundancy department? "the summer season?" Is that different from "the season that is summer." And of course, then we have the autumnal equinox, which is I guess the end of the summer, scientifically.

But I think we all have our own definitions of when summer is over. For example, I think Kevin lives for the day he can put on a sweater without sweating . That's the end of summer for him. For school kids, of course, I think that wonderful description in "Dandelion Wine," when they see the notebooks and yellow pencils for sale in the local shop is the end of it. (if you haven't read Dandelion Wine, wait until next August and read it. And if you have, read it again. It will remind you of those bittersweet years when you went to school, and of some good times with your family, even if there weren't many). So, everyone has an unofficial end of summer.

For me, summer ends when I can't get local tomatoes anymore. And it feels like it's about now. I bought some last Friday, knowing that they weren't going to be great. And that was fine. I had no notions of putting them in a caprese salad, or a BLT (or.. a PLT), or anything like that. But while they're here, I'm using them.

When tomatoes aren't the type that you just want to bite into, juice spilling on you be damned, it's time to cook them. Here's one way of doing it.

Stuffed vegetables are one of those things that everyone should have in their repertoire. You can stuff just about any vegetable that has a cavity. Mushrooms, of course, everyone knows about. But zucchini, eggplant, squash, can all be stuffed. I find those a bit intimidating on my plate. I don't want half a butternut squash, filled with "something" looking up at me. I have no idea how to eat it. But a stuffed tomato is different. I can cut it in two, or if I'm sure no one's looking at me, pick it up and stuff it right in my mouth, and if the filling is wonderful, well, I can go sneak off and do the squirrel number and put in another one.

You'll find lots of recipes for stuffed tomatoes. Here's mine. It's the ultimate in simplicity. I made these this morning, before we went to work. Yeah, I cook in the morning. It's demented. Deal with it.

To make the filling, I cut the tomatoes in half and scooped out their centers (I used heirloom plum tomatoes, which are nice and dry, with a little juice). I chopped those up, and then I added about the same quantity of homemade breadcrumbs (but you can use the storebought stuff if you must). I added some olive oil to moisten the mix, some salt, and the leaves of three sprigs of rosemary. Rosemary is one of those herbs that needs slow cooking. If you use it in a quick dish, it's nasty. It will smack you and make you feel bad. Slow cooked, it will cosset you and make you feel very proud of your mastery of herbs.

I put the hollowed out tomato halves into a baking dish and salted them lightly. Then I filled them with the mix above, and poured more olive oil over them, in a little drizzle. They went into the oven for thirty minutes at 350. After twenty, the apartment began to smell like an Italian restaurant. At thirty, I wanted to eat dinner NOW.

You can put cheese into this filling too, and if you have "main dish" plans for them, I urge you to do so. These are going as a side dish to some lamb chops, so cheese would not be appropriate. You could also run them under the broiler, but my breadcrumbs had been toasted already, so ther was no need.

Is it REALLY the end of summer?