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Overloading the Machine

Green Beans Simmered in Tomato Sauce

From The Boston Globe Magazine, Sheryl Julian and Julie Riven, 2004 September 19

Serves 4.

4 large ripe tomatoes
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 clove garlic, crushed
Salt and pepper, to taste
1 pound green beans, trimmed
2 tablespoons chopped fresh basil

Bring a large saucepan of water to a boil. Core the tomatoes and drop them into the water. Count to 10 and remove the tomatoes. Peel off the skins and discard. Halve the tomatoes horizontally. Squeeze out the seeds. Cut the flesh into strips. Set them aside.

In a flameproof casserole, heat the oil and cook the garlic for 2 minutes or until it begins to brown. Add the tomatoes, salt, and pepper. Cook, stirring often, for 10 minutes.

Add the beans and stir thoroughly, so they're coated all over with the tomato mixture. Cover and cook over low heat, stirring occasionally, for 8 minutes or until the beans are tender but still have some bite. Sprinkle with basil, taste for seasoning, and add more salt and pepper if you like. Serve at once.

Notes: Haven't tried it yet.

We were young and our happiness dazzled us with its strength. But there was also a terrible betrayal that lay within me like a Merle Haggard song at a French restaurant. [...] I could not tell the girl about the woman of the tollway, of her milk white BMW and her Jordache smile. There had been a fight. I had punched her boyfriend, who fought the mechanical bulls. Everyone told him, "You ride the bull, senor. You do not fight it." But he was lean and tough like a bad rib-eye and he fought the bull. And then he fought me. And when we finished there were no winners, just men doing what men must do. [...] "Stop the car," the girl said. There was a look of terrible sadness in her eyes. She knew about the woman of the tollway. I knew not how. I started to speak, but she raised an arm and spoke with a quiet and peace I will never forget. "I do not ask for whom's the tollway belle," she said, "the tollway belle's for thee." The next morning our youth was a memory, and our happiness was a lie. Life is like a bad margarita with good tequila, I thought as I poured whiskey onto my granola and faced a new day.

-- Peter Applebome, International Imitation Hemingway Competition

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