Then days and weeks drag by, until finally the warm days and nights work their magic, and the tomatoes start to look like this.
Finally all is well! We have lovely, tasty tomatoes to enjoy with any meal we choose. Bruschetta topped with cherry tomatoes - yum! Pasta a la Caprese - you bet! Pizza with tomato slices, fresh garlic and herbs - bring it on! We laugh scornfully at those sorry supermarket globes masquerading as tomatoes.
And then one day, I look around the kitchen and all I can see on every flat surface is this.
That's when my delight morphs into panic. What to do with all these tomatoes before they get overripe and - horrors! - have to be thrown out. Some we give away to gardenless friends and neighbors. Some years I can the surplus. This year I've been slow-roasting them with garlic, fresh basil and a bit of olive oil. This marvelous concoction, the essential tomato goodness, can be frozen and pulled out deep in winter for pasta sauce, pizza, and much more. Tasting those roasted tomatoes makes summer bloom in your mouth for a few minutes, even on a sullen January day.
So here's to ya, my tomato lovelies - the Sweet 100s cherry tomatoes, the Jaune Flammes, the Orange Bananas, the San Marzanos, and the Aunt Ginny's Purples - all heirloom varieties obtained from members of the Seed Savers Exchange across the country.
I have a favorite memory of chatting with my Dad about the virtues of gardens, and tomatoes in particular. I quoted a phrase from a country and western song I'd heard on the radio. My Dad immediately knew the song and the artist. That tune and that memory always surface at this time of year. It's a song by Guy Clark. Here's the chorus:
Homegrown tomatoes, homegrown tomatoes
What'd life be without homegrown tomatoes
Only two things that money can't buy
That's true love and homegrown tomatoes.
On a muggy August day in Missouri, that about sums it up for me.
Your tomatoes look fantastic! And you're so lucky to have them - here in New England we're losing ours to the blight. (Thank you Wal-Mart, Home Depot, etc. for bringing in the diseased plants.)
ReplyDeleteMore about it here: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/09/opinion/09barber.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=tomato%20blight&st=cse
Thanks for the link to that excellent article, Bonnie. It raises several timely issues. In addition to the importance of farmers and gardeners knowing the origin of their seedlings, it addresses the hybrid vs. heirloom matter. Hybrid varieties do have a place in our food crops. In our area, a number of wilts lurk in the soil that most heirloom tomatoes will succumb to. You can't really get rid of the wilt, except maybe by not growing tomatoes in that soil for 10 years. Hybrid varieties are usually more wilt-resistant. I knew that but still messed up this year in my selection of tomatoes. In my desire to not start so many varieties, I forgot to include a hybrid or two. Sure enough, the wilt has reared its ugly head. Little by little, the leaves are wilting from the base of the plants up. One plant has already died, and I know it's just a matter of time before all my plants come to a premature end. They've been bearing fruit like champs, but they'd bear more and longer if they weren't struggling with the wilt. I know some gardeners who look down on hybrids with disdain but they really do have a part to play in our agriculture.
ReplyDeleteWe're lucky this year....Sean is actually producing a few, but friends at his workplace are overwhellmed and are giving us plenty of extra!
ReplyDeletemmmm! I loved that song. And I love them tomatoes. Thanks for a fun post.
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