The Years Of Magical Thinking

As I'm sure is often the case when people become parents, and particularly at that stage when their babies begin to really and truly interact with the world, I've been giving a lot of thought lately to Christopher Columbus.

(Keeping you guessing, me.)

I wasn't as horrified as some when I found out that (SPOILER ALERT!) Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny et al were less than real, but I do remember being cripplingly disillusioned, even floored, when I found out that Christopher Columbus was not the brave, heroic sailor that my primary school teachers had led me to believe. I don't know what this says about me, but there it is.

When I found out that Columbus was (gasp!) just a man, and a greedy one at that - a religious zealot who lied about his achievements...maybe a little bit crazy too - I was crushed. "Whither the ocean blue???!" queried my young heart, "I will never be able to face The Nina, The Pinta and The Santa Maria again."

Mejor.

I've been thinking a lot about childhood lately, and mooning over this book on Amazon, which I should just get over myself and buy instead of being weird and waiting for the electronic version which probably isn't coming...really showing how far into Kindle Madness I have fallen. ("A book? With pages? That you have to, like, HOLD AND TURN? That sounds so haaaaaaaaard.")

I've been wondering if part of the sadness we feel as adults, part of what makes fantasy such an attraction (admittedly for some and not all), is this idea that magic does exist for children (really exists, even though they never see it) until enough not seeing it or enough growing up reveals the truth. Is it more crushing to live in a world where magic is always pretend or to believe for a short while in fairies only to find out some little girl in a pinafore cut them out of paper and pioneered Photoshop?

I don't know the answer to this question, but I'm struggling with it somewhat in my parenting. Nico is delighted by everything at the moment. This morning he favored me with an exultant, ravishing smile because I blew on his eggs. "Oh mother! The wonder of life!"...he seemed to say.

If this kind of thing can enchant him (a whistle, the sound of the coffee bean grinder, any and all things paper, four legged creatures the world over) why sweeten the deal with dragons and unicorns if I will only have to break his heart later when I tell him the truth? Particularly when there is so much real magic floating around.

And by real magic, I mean: tomatoes.

This is the second time I've blogged about this recipe. I first saw it on Orangette a couple of years after the original posting. This is a great way to preserve your tomatoes for a short while, and makes an amazing snack. Nico had his first piece standing over the stove, and then another and another and another and then, to his father's astonished pride, moved on to the roasted garlic. He looks at us with surprised happiness when he tastes a new food that he likes. He is like someone who has just seen a trick, or a prince under a spell. After all, what could be more magical than turning supermarket grape tomatoes into tiny little juice-filled boats? Tangy and sweet and salty all at once with just the barest perfume of garlic and thyme. As usual, these barely made it into the fridge, but we have a few leftover for snacking or layering onto a pizza or tossing with fresh pasta.

Very simply, you set your oven low, to 200 degrees or so, then cut your tomatoes in half and place them, cut side up, on parchment or a Silpat. (Don't have a Silpat yet? Pick one up, they are 100% worth it.) Sprinkle with sea salt, litter with crushed but unpeeled garlic cloves and toss some fresh herbs on there; rosemary, thyme, even basil. Now stick it in the oven for about 4-6 hours, until the tomatoes shrivel up a bit and begin to resemble little jewel-colored prunes. (Sometimes they look like sea shells to me, if sea shells celebrated Mardi Gras.)

After those many hours have passed (set a timer...I always forget they are in there) just settle in and get ready for magic.

Wands optional.