Yes, it’s true, as odd as it may seem, up until this year, tomatoes were not a friend of mine. I was very picky with my consumption. Cooked were fine, roasted even better, but sliced and put on a sandwich– never! Wedges in a salad– no way! And a caprese salad– well you can forget about that too. But this year, it all changed for me, and it wasn’t that I had finally tasted the perfect, heirloom variety tomato. It was just a test of wills.

In January, that blustery, no-good month, I made a resolution, and this from the girl who never makes New Year’s resolutions. 2006 would be, amongst other things, the year of no more food taboos. Never again would I pick apart a sandwich, push a vegetable endlessly around my dinner plate, or ask a waiter or waitress for a substitution. Now I was not a horribly picky eater to begin with, but this was the year of equal opportunity food consumption. First thing to tackle was my mediocre feelings towards the innocuous tomato. It started out slowly, a slice of a ruby-red beefsteak on the perfect sandwich– a BLT. No problem, it was juicy, ripe, and tasted like grass, like summer. And the very next week, I kid you not, I had a caprese salad, by choice– for dinner.

So I can’t really tell you what transpired over 27 years to make me think that I hated the tomato. Now I eat them along with the best of them, and with the eating comes the cooking, and a simple, luscious, just-right-for-summer, Pasta Pomodoro.

A basic pomodoro with a twist, a double whammy in the tomato department, this pomodoro has both a cooked and an uncooked component to it. Raw tomatoes are seeded, diced, salted, and placed in a serving bowl to exude, and collect their juices. Then a pint of cherry tomatoes, bursting at the skins with juice, are tossed in olive oil, salt and pepper, and placed in a baking dish in a 325 degree oven to bake. While these tomatoes are baking, I minced some garlic, and tossed it in with the raw tomatoes along with a few glugs of olive ol. After about 30 minutes, I retrieve the tomatoes from the oven. They are starting to brown, and have popped, allowing for their sweet juices to carmelize. The cooked tomatoes get added to the raw, along with some drained spaghetti, grated parmesan cheese, and some freshly torn basil– and there you have it. Granted this recipe is hardly rocket science, but with stellar ingredients, it makes a delightful supper. And it may just get those other tomato-haters on the right track.

I’m over half-way through my year of no more food taboos, and I am surprised at how easy it is. I think that many of my reservations were simply childhood recollections. Now you still may not see me gobbling up some mayonnaise-soaked potato salad (I have yet to tackle the mayonnaise phobia), but you will see me ordering a BLT, no holds required.