The beautiful, atmospheric novel “Mariette in Ecstasy,” published in 1991, explores the line between faith and delusion through the story of a young nun in New York State in the early 1900s. Author Ron Hansen, a cradle Catholic who attended Jesuit high school and was ordained a deacon of the Church in 2007, is perhaps best known for literary Westerns, including “The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford.”
In “Mariette in Ecstasy,” Hansen situates teenage novice Mariette Baptiste and her fellow Sisters of the Crucifixion in a lush, glorious landscape of scents, sounds and bucolic views. The rhythms of the convent life are closely entwined with a natural world — milking cows, harvesting grapes and making wine — that also includes the nuns’ physical realities, including their sexuality. They live austere lives amid shocking instances of sensual glory, such as Mariette’s first meal in the convent, where “wild quail in spiced vinegar are served along with hot bread and green peas and a grand cru wine from the Haut Medoc.” (This is an unusual, one-time-only repast, donated to the nunnery.)
Mariette burns brighter than all the rest, throwing herself into heights of mortification that draw suspicion upon her motivations: Is she faithful, or is she faking? She is eventually thrown out of the convent — rightly or wrongly, the reader must decide. The evidence is damning, but Hansen leaves open the possibility that when Mariette begs Christ for the ultimate suffering, Christ has granted her wish: She is cast out, and loses her flaming passion for him as well. She may be his even more faithful servant because of it.
In a sad final scene, Mariette sits with her worldly and repellant father, who was instrumental in her departure from the convent. He is fussing over their dinner menu, suggesting a tamed, pretentious dish that’s far from the wild and wholesome convent fare: “tomato Provençale, Creole style, with curry.” The Provençale tomato is an unappetizing dish of bland, soggy tomato flesh stuffed with dry, crumbly breadcrumbs. Even the Julia Child and Jacques Pepin versions I tried, spiced up with Cajun seasoning, were no good. The following stuffed tomato dish isn’t Provençale, but it offers notes of exotic curry and spice while still doing justice to the ripe lusciousness of fresh summer produce. Had the Sisters of the Crucifixion stuffed a tomato, they would have done it this way.
Tomatoes with Curry
Serves 4 as a side dish
— 8 small, good-quality heirloom tomatoes, in multiple colors (about two pounds)
— 8 ounces Friendship brand farmer cheese (salted) (ricotta can be substituted if necessary; if so, add salt to taste)
— 1/4 cup finely chopped scallions
— 1/2 hot green chili, deseeded and chopped
— 1/4 cup finely chopped cilantro
— 1 tablespoon flour
— 2 large potatoes, boiled, peeled and roughly mashed, ideally still warm
— Juice of 1 lemon
— 2 teaspoons curry powder
— 1/2 teaspoon salt
— Pepper to taste
— Vegetable or other flavorless oil for frying
1. Prepare the tomatoes: Cut the tops off the tomatoes, reserving the caps. Scoop or cut out the flesh and seeds carefully, using a spoon, a small serrated knife or both. (Grapefruit spoons are ideal here.) Be careful not to pierce the tomatoes’ skin. Salt the cavity and leave the tomatoes upside down to drain. 2. Make the cheese filling: Combine farmer cheese, scallions, green chili, cilantro and flour in a medium bowl. Mix well. 3. Make the potato filling: In a medium bowl, combine potatoes, lemon juice, curry powder, salt and pepper. Mix well and taste for seasoning. 4. Assemble: Distribute the cheese filling evenly among the tomatoes, and top with the potato mixture, mounded and spread flat on top so no tomato flesh is visible. 5. Cook: Pour the oil in a large skillet to about 1/3-inch depth (you don’t want the potatoes to stick), and heat to medium high. Place the tomatoes upside down, on the potato side, and fry until the potatoes are golden, 3-5 minutes. Flip, using a metal spatula to scrape up all the brown bits. Reunite the tomatoes with their reserved caps, turn the heat down to medium-low, cover, and cook 2 more minutes, just long enough to take the raw edge off the caps. Serve immediately.
