Roman Rice-Stuffed Tomatoes
A simple Roman recipe to make the most of sweet, plump summer tomatoes
It’s hard to believe that just a few weeks ago I filled my apartment with flowers, set the table, put out snacks, lit candles, cooked a meal with multiple components, and hosted a group of friends for dinner. Now the apartment is segmented by clattering metal gates to keep Liesl off the nice rugs unless she’s supervised, and one corner is devoted to a patch of sod and pee pads for the inevitable accidents. I barely have the energy to cook anything complicated, let alone a whole spread of dishes, so I’ve been living off the basics and ordering more takeout than usual. How times have changed.
I keep reminding myself that I’m in the thick, brambly stretch of puppy parenthood, and that before long I’ll have the freedom and energy to return to ambitious hosting and cooking. And besides, she won’t be this small, smushy, and portable forever, and I’ll miss this version of her.
Anyhow, I’ve been meaning to write about that dinner party because it was such a successful evening, and I loved how the meal came together. The anchor of the menu was Roman rice-stuffed tomatoes, roasted until the tomatoey rice filling was tender and the tomatoes were almost bursting, their skins blistered and soft. It’s a dish I ate often while living in Rome, where it’s not only prepared at people’s homes, but also available for purchase all over the city at canteens called tavole calde (literally: hot tables). In Italy stuffed tomatoes are humble, everyday sustenance, typically roasted over potato wedges. Here, stuffed tomatoes are a rarer sight, which makes them feel all the more whimsical — the tomatoes’ tiny caps perched on top like little hats.
I hosted this dinner not only because I wanted to bring this group of friends together, but also because I really wanted to make stuffed tomatoes for a crowd.
To go with the tomatoes, I roasted two whole branzinos, which I asked my local fishmonger to gut and scale. When I was ready to cook them, I cranked the oven to 450°F, rubbed the fish with olive oil and salt, tucked lemon slices into the cavities, and roasted them until the flesh was opaque and flaked easily with a fork. Served with a little aioli and salsa verde? C’moooon. Of course, you by no means have to do a whole branzino (although it does play up the whimsy). Any firm white fish would be a lovely match for stuffed tomatoes, aioli, and salsa verde. If fish isn’t your thing, maybe roast chicken is, or lemony braised chickpeas, or griddled halloumi — all would be delicious companions. Add a simple green salad and a loaf of crusty bread to any of the above, and dinner is done.
We’ll focus on the star of the show today: Roman rice-stuffed tomatoes.
The pulp, scooped from the tomatoes, doesn’t go to waste but instead gets strained into a sweet broth and simmered with the rice, adding another dimension of tomato flavor. Seek out the best summer tomatoes you can find: sweet, ripe, and just firm enough to hold their shape in the oven. They should also be large enough to yield plenty of sweet-tart pulp while leaving generous vessels for the filling. Arborio or carnaroli is what you want here, along with plenty of fresh basil to tear into the warm rice filling.
