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06/28/1999 Archived Entry: "My Weekend in the Hamptons -- Raw Tomato Sauce"

My hostess, Rona Jaffe, the famous novelist, says everyone in America knows about the Hamptons. “It gets a lot of publicity,” she understated a moment ago, as I sat here setting up my lap top on her dining room table.

I assume that if you live in the New York area you must know all about the Hamptons. You may well even be sick of hearing about the Hamptons. In case you’ve tuned in from a planet where the magazines, newspapers and TV programs do not cover the playgrounds of the rich and famous, “The Hamptons” are a cluster of villages on the “South Fork” of the “East End” (as New Yorkers call it) of Long Island. Affluent and some not-so-affluent families have been summering here for generations, but it wasn’t until 20 years ago that the potato fields started giving way to major, ostentatious development. Now much of the open space is gone, huge weathered shingle houses dominate the landscape (okay, there’s acreage around each), the shopping has become at least as recherché and expensive as Madison Ave., there are more 20-somethings with Porsches than anywhere else on earth, and eight small zucchini and three onions just cost me $5 at a farm stand. “I’m from Manhattan,” I complained. “I’m not used to these prices.”

This will be my one and only visit to the Hamptons this summer. It’s something I have to do for Rona, who I never see enough of, and who rightfully gets insulted when I say I cannot possibly drag myself away from the tranquility and solitude of northwestern Connecticut to spend a weekend party-hopping with her in Sagaponack. “We don’t have to leave the house,” she promised. “Except for one party,” she added. “It’s a benefit called Writers Against Abuse. You’re against abuse aren’t you? I told them you were so I could get you invited. All you have to do is bring an autographed copy of one of your books.”

Actually, there were two parties I was supposed to attend with Rona, as well as with Michael Whiteman and Rozanne Gold. Michael and Rozanne (they’re married) and I drove out together from the city. When we arrived, I was informed that we were just stopping in quickly at Guild Hall, a local cultural center, where there would be champagne and hors d’oeuvres in honor of a new show of photographs and drawings of contemporary beach house architecture, in which, as you can imagine, The Hamptons abounds.

The show wasn’t particularly interesting. I would have appreciated more photos of the houses and their interiors and fewer architectural drawings that I couldn’t understand. And although I fully appreciate the attraction of a modern box with glass walls facing the ocean, I’ve never felt comfortable about their arrogance on the landscape.

But the Guild Hall party’s wine and hors d’oeuvres were terrific. Food & Co. was the caterer and, as it happens, Rona had had her recent birthday party catered by them. Very good prices, says Rona. We all remarked on how good the shu mai were, but there were also delicious, tiny, curry-flavored crab cakes; grilled shrimp with a Thai herb dipping sauce; and tiny squares of seared tuna on something fried and crispy, topped with wasabi-soaked whitefish roe, which made the golden fish eggs a pale green and appropriately piquant. Everything was passed around on all different, striking trays, each decorated to suit the dish on it. Best yet, there were interesting people to meet and talk to. (Food & Co. is owned by Michelle Florea. Besides food, she supplies service staff, too. Her phone and fax number is 516-329-1000.)

The Writers Against Abuse party was another story. It was held at the beachfront house on Tyson Lane that Jerry Seinfeld recently lost to Helmut Lang, the clothes designer. Jerry was willing to pay 15 million. Helmut out-bid him at 19.5 million. Or at least so said the local paper this morning. It was a surprisingly modest house; a small, two-story cottage; a modest but elegant colonial shingle on a magnificent piece of property overlooking the dunes and the ocean. Helmut is supposedly going to tear down the house and build himself a palace. Why not?

In any case, given the bad food and annoying company offered at this party (in fact, the drink was good, and the bartenders the most amusing of the attendees) I know I can find a joke about women and abuse in all this, but I also know it would turn out totally tasteless and I would regret it.

Now, besides being a best-selling novelist, Rona is famous for having nothing in the house to eat. How empty were her cupboards and frige? Well, I wrote a book called “What To Cook When You Think There’s Nothing In The House To Eat,” Rozanne is working on her fourth 1,2,3 cookbook, in which she makes fantastic stuff with only three ingredients, and Michael is a world-renowned food consultant. Even we could not make a little supper with what Rona had around. Using the tomatoes and pasta that she did have as a starting point, plus the very fragrant basil she had in the garden, I decided to make a raw tomato sauce for penne. Unfortunately, Rona had neither garlic nor olive oil for me to marinate the tomatoes in as I usually would. So, figuring we could pick up some garlic and good oil on our way to the Writers Against Abuse party, I decided to warm up the whole thing when we got home. This would speed up the mingling of flavors, I figured. And it did. Here’s exactly what I did.


Penne with Warmed Raw Tomato Sauce
Serves 4 as a main course

Usually, when I have great tomatoes on a hot day, I would make a truly raw tomato sauce. I combine the tomatoes, cut into 1/4-inch dice, with olive oil, garlic, basil and salt, then let it marinate all day until we are ready to eat. At the table, I add freshly ground pepper.

3 cups diced (1/4-inch pieces) salad-type tomatoes (not plum tomatoes)
1 teaspoon salt, or more to taste
1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 pound penne or other tubular macaroni
3 to 4 large cloves garlic, coarsely chopped
About 2 tablespoons torn or snipped fresh basil

In a mixing bowl, combine the tomatoes, salt, pepper, and about 3 tablespoons of the olive oil.

Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil. Add the salt, then the penne and boil until al dente

Meanwhile, in a 10-inch skillet, over low heat, warm the remaining olive oil and garlic together. When the garlic starts to sizzle, decrease the heat to lowest possible and let the garlic slightly soften in the oil for about a minute or so.

Add the tomatoes and the basil to the oil and garlic in the pan. Stir well, then warm through without simmering.

When the macaroni is cooked, drain well, then toss with the tomato mixture.

Serve grated cheese on the side for those who want it. Personally I take mine plain.