Not just any tomatoes—beefy, juicy, summer-ripe ones that look like they’ve been sunbathing since May. And let’s stuff ‘em. With rice. But not just any rice. We’re going full Roman here. Pomodori al Riso? Yeah. That one. The kind your nonna might make if she lived in Trastevere and had a tiny kitchen that smelled like garlic and regret.
I’m Kelsey. I don’t have a nonna. Or a tiny Roman kitchen. But I do have an oven, a knife that’s seen things, and a serious thing for tomatoes that don’t taste like cardboard. So I made this. Twice. Once to get it right. Once to eat it all before my roommate noticed.
And now? I’m telling you how to do it too.
Okay. Real talk: if you use instant rice, I will find you.
No. Not really. But also… please don’t. This isn’t the time.
You want risotto rice. Arborio. Carnaroli. The fancy stuff that gets creamy when you cook it but still holds its shape. It soaks up flavor like it’s been starving. Regular long-grain rice? Nah. It’ll stay hard. Or turn to mush. Or whisper mean things at you while you eat.
Arborio is fine. Carnaroli’s better. But if all you’ve got is Arborio from the back of your pantry that’s been there since 2021? Use it. Just don’t tell the Italians.
Let’s walk through this. Not just what you need, but why it’s in the party.
Get your oven going. 375°F. Rack in the upper middle. Sounds specific? It is. Top third works if you don’t care.
Toss the potatoes with 2 tbsp olive oil, rosemary, salt, pepper. Spread ‘em in a baking dish. Roast 30 mins. Knife should slide in easy.
Then? Let ‘em cool. Keep the oven on. Don’t rush this. The potatoes need to rest. They’ve earned it.
Cut the tops off. Just the stem end. About half an inch. Save the tops. They’re hats now.
Scoop out the insides with a spoon. Be careful. Don’t tear the walls. You want a little tomato boat. Not a leaky raft.
Season the inside with salt. Flip ‘em upside down on a rack over a tray. Let the extra juice drip out. Nobody likes a soggy bottom.
Take that scooped-out tomato goop. Run it through a food mill if you’ve got one. Gets rid of seeds, keeps it smooth. No food mill? Blender or food processor. It’ll be a bit seedier. A bit airier. That’s fine. We’re not in a competition.
Measure it. You want about 2¼ cups. Short? Add stock. Not magic. Just math.
Heat 1 tbsp oil in a pot. Medium heat. Add shallot. Cook till soft. Not brown. Don’t let it burn. That’s a mood killer.
Add garlic. Stir. One minute. Done.
Now the rice. Add it. Toast it for 2–3 mins. Let it get glossy. Translucent edges. Like little icy windows.
Stir in tomato paste. Cook a minute. Let it caramelize a tiny bit. Smell that? That’s good.
Now pour in the tomato pulp. Bring to a simmer. Cook 10 mins. Stir. Rice should be just starting to soften. Not done. We finish in the oven.
Take it off heat. Stir in fish sauce (if you’re brave). Add basil. Taste. Salt if needed.
Dry the tomato insides with paper towels. Moisture is the enemy of texture.
Nestle the tomatoes into the roasted potatoes. They’ll sit like little red helmets.
Fill ‘em with rice. Not to the brim. Leave a little space. They swell. Like jeans after Thanksgiving.
Put the tops back on. Drizzle with the last tbsp of olive oil.
Bake 25–30 mins. Tomatoes should be soft. Rice cooked through.
Now—broil. Take the tops off. Crank the oven to broil. 5–7 mins. Watch it. Like, actually watch it. You want golden. Maybe a little char. Not ash.
Take it out. Let it sit. 10 mins. Let the steam do its thing. Let the flavors chill out together.
Okay. Real talk.
A lot of recipes treat this like a casserole. Like you’re feeding an army. They over-season. Over-stuff. Use canned tomatoes. Or skip the potato base. Or bake it forever.
And the rice? Mush. Or raw. Or both.
This version? It’s balanced. The potatoes add texture. The rice is just cooked. The tomatoes stay intact. The flavor is deep but not heavy.
And it’s not trying too hard.
It’s not “rustic elegance.” It’s just good food.
No fake cheese. No breadcrumbs. No weird substitutions.
Just tomatoes. Rice. Oil. Herbs. A little patience.
When it comes out? It’s golden. Smells like summer and garlic and olive oil dreams.
Let it cool. Ten minutes. Minimum.
Serve it warm. Or room temp. Both work. I like it cold the next day. Don’t judge me.
Pair it with a green salad. A glass of white wine. Or just eat it with your hands in the kitchen while no one’s looking.
It’s not fancy. But it’s yours.
And hey—next time you see a perfect tomato? Don’t just slice it. Honor it.
Stuff it. Roast it. Share it. Or don’t.
I’m Kelsey. I’ll be in the corner. Eating mine with a spoon.
This Roman-style rice-stuffed tomatoes recipe—known as Pomodori al Riso—is a rustic, seasonal dish that lets summer tomatoes shine. Ripe beefsteak tomatoes are hollowed out and filled with a savory rice mixture made from their own strained pulp, then baked over a bed of roasted Yukon Gold potatoes until tender and lightly caramelized. The rice is cooked just enough on the stovetop before finishing in the oven, absorbing rich tomato flavor and a hint of umami—optional fish sauce deepens the savoriness without tasting fishy.
Servings 4
* Percent Daily Values are based on a 2,000 calorie diet. Your daily value may be higher or lower depending on your calorie needs.
I’m a London-based food writer, recipe developer, and home cook who has been passionate about cooking for over 15 years. What started as a way to recreate my mother’s traditional dishes turned into a lifelong love for experimenting with flavors, writing about food, and helping others feel more confident in the kitchen.
