Come with me, I’ll take you on a journey. This journey begins at the crack of dawn, the summer has been spent talking about this very special day. No one knows when it will happen, we wait, until the tomatoes are ready, and not until then do we plan. Bottles are collected all through the year, the last of the remaining Passata from the previous summer is sitting idle on the shelf, awaiting it’s companions.
The air is fresh, the sun is rising. The tomatoes have been resting, laid out, ripening. As the day proceeds, it’s a seamless production line of washing, cutting, boiling, straining. This year is the first we have used an electric machine, the workload lessened considerably. Family come to assist, comic banter and laughter the remedy for making this light work.
As the sun beams high in the sky, a quick break for coffee and a snack. The tomatoes have now turned into a crimson liquid. Fresh basil plucked that morning to flavour the sauce, finds its way in each bottle. They are filled, caps on ready for their hot bath.
They bubble away, clinking as a small portion is kept aside put straight in a saucepan to cook for dinner. The aroma fills the air, the senses on stimulation overload. Water boiled, pasta cooked and topped with the freshest of Passata and enjoyed by all. The bottles are plucked from the water bath once cooled, and placed to store. They take pride of place in our pantry, a staple that will feed my family all year.
Want to see Passata Day in action? Below is a video of the days events.