By Barbara Damrosch
Special to The Washington Post
Thursday, November 9, 2006

It's November, and the tomatoes refuse to go away. Even after a few mild nips of frost, some vines in protected locations have soldiered on.

Those in the greenhouse look better yet -- sporting healthy green foliage and laden with fruit. But ripening has nearly halted, and it's time to pull them down to make room for winter salad plantings. It's a job I put off, pained by the idea of discarding fruitful plants. I have to remind myself that even the tomatoes that are bright red are not what they were earlier in the season. When nights cool down and light levels decline, flavor suffers.

In their native South American tropics, tomatoes are perennial plants. Theoretically, if you prevented the vines from freezing, you could keep them growing and fruiting forever. However, their desired flavor depends on long summer days to build sugars. The optimum temperature for tomato ripening is 75 degrees Fahrenheit, with an acceptable range from 65 to 85 degrees. At about 54 degrees, fruits deteriorate quickly, even though they might still look normal to the eye. The cell walls begin to break down, giving them a mealy texture. Sugars are released from the cells and become degraded. No wonder we are warned not to put tomatoes in the refrigerator.

Still, it's hard for gardeners to say goodbye. Even if we've canned, frozen or dried our tomatoes at peak flavor, there's still that urge to gather up the last ones, spread them out on trays, wrap them in newspaper and put them in the dark. They take over the kitchen counters and tables, so there's no room to cook. No matter that there is superior fare still in the garden. Kale, spinach, Brussels sprouts and sweet, frost-nipped carrots are in their glory days. There's plenty of gorgeous, orange-fleshed squash to feast on. Yet here we go, scurrying like crazed squirrels after inferior fruit.

The other day we had a family taste test of all the late-harvested tomatoes. The results were surprising. The variety that had been everyone's favorite during the summer -- the heirloom Brandywine -- was now bland and unsatisfying. Even Amish Paste, the huge, meaty oval tomato that had given us such wonderful pasta sauce, had lost its edge. The little guys had fared better. The Juliet Grape tomato, though less delicious than in August, had at least kept its sweetness, and the tiny yellow Sungold was still a treat. The winner? A new variety a friend had given us to try this year called Tomatoberry. It is bright red and just a bit bigger than the usual cherry tomato, with firm skin and a point at the end, making it heart-shaped.

Chilly weather had done nothing to diminish its fine taste, so we will definitely grow it again next year. It will be available from Johnny's Selected Seeds ( http://www.johnnyseeds.com ) in the 2007 catalogue.

Meanwhile, the kitchen is still full of tomatoes.

If I were a true southerner and not a north-south hybrid, I'd make fried green tomatoes. I once tried this sentimental favorite, ignoring my prejudice against unripe fruit (green peppers included). How much flavor -- let alone nutrients -- would these green baseballs have had time to accumulate? Not much, it turned out. I tried them both green and slightly pink. I sliced them and dipped them first in flour, then in egg, then cornmeal. I did the same thing with bread crumbs as the final dip. Then I fried them in a combination of butter and oil. The hard ones had, I admit, a pleasant uniform texture but were tasteless. The pinkish ones had some acidity, but no sweetness. I concluded that the dish had little value except as a vehicle for crisp, oily cornmeal or bread crumbs.

I'm convinced that the best way to treat late tomatoes is to roast them. Roasting concentrates the flavor and sweetness so intensely that you'd never know you had started with a has-been crop. It works best with the paste types and is extremely easy to do. Just slice off a bit of the stem end of each tomato and cut what remains in half lengthwise. Smear a baking sheet with olive oil and spread the tomatoes out on it, cut side up. Drizzle them with more olive oil and sprinkle with salt, pepper and fresh or dried herbs.

I've tried slow-roasting them all day at 200 degrees with great success, but usually I set the oven to 325 and leave them in for an hour or two, checking often so they don't burn. If they're large, they'll take more time. If I want them very juicy, they'll take less. Sometimes after roasting tomatoes, I puree them and turn them into soup. Other times I serve them on top of polenta, pasta or a green salad. I keep some around at room temperature and snack on them. They seem to have dozens of uses, any one of them a dignified finale for this most luscious of crops.

At this time of year, I roast tomatoes almost every day and will continue to do so until the last are gone and their season is over. Finally.