I bid a fond farewell to one of the smash hits of the garden this season, the now nearly bare tomato vines. The fun (maybe the best word to describe my tomato year) began last Christmas when I received the tomato seeds as a gift. My aunt works in a garden store and had salvaged a large bag full of all sorts of seeds, packaged for 2010 and therefore destined to be thrown out. She gave me more than I possibly could ever have used in one season, without an acre homestead and a greenhouse, including several tomato varieties. I did not need to buy many fresh seeds this year.
You’d be amazed at the many and diverse tomato varieties. I’ve seen seed catalogs dedicated almost exclusively to the hundreds of different tomato types. They come:
- in many colors like red, pink, yellow, orange, green, purple and various combinations of mottled;
- of many sizes: cherry, grape, plum, pear, Roma, small, medium and large round ones, beefsteak, heart-shaped and more;
- and with many uses: sauce, salad, slicing, cooking.
I was satisfied growing three varieties: Roma (for sauce), Better boy (a large, round slicer), and Brandywine (an heirloom beefsteak).
The last tomato harvest, both green and red, comes when you pull the vines.
It was pure pleasure watching the little plants spring up under lights late in March and grow quickly and healthily for transplanting them to medium-sized pots for a few weeks. In late April, with a prayer and a hope, I set them in the ground in Smith, where out in the open exposed to all the elements, they continued to grow full and fast. I soon had a tomato rain forest on my hands, with lush green vines growing higher and longer, some taller than me, producing blossoms and setting fruit by the dozen.
In mid-July, I picked my first bucket full of tomatoes at one visit and was able to continue doing that for about six to eight weeks. Not once did I heft that heavy, full bucket without thinking that each fruit, itself filled with seeds, was one of many from a vine I started from just one seed. I compared the weight of a tomato and of a bucket of tomatoes with the weight of a packet of seeds. I figured what I paid for seeds this year (what few I bought) and compared it to the market value of all these tomatoes. I never, never get tired of or immune to the miracle of growing things. Picking one juicy, large, red tomato after another was nothing but pure pleasure.
We ate fresh tomatoes in so many different ways this season. We enjoyed them:
in a Caprese salad (with fresh garden basil)
raw
stewed
in spaghetti sauce
fried as a side to eggs at breakfast
in fresh salsa
in Ratatouille
on a sandwich
in a salad
with onions and okra over grits
cooked on the grill
in a huge batch of chutney
as gifts
baked in a casserole
some ways I’m forgetting
The final harvest happens when you pull the vines in the fall. I was surprised to find a couple dozen golf ball sized ripe tomatoes. We’ve been enjoying them all weekend. If you pull the vines just before a frost you may end up with many green tomatoes. I’m a little disappointed we didn’t. You can fry or pickle these and they taste pretty good. I think what started out as a farm way to use up end-of the-season green tomatoes has become a popular dish whether it’s fall or not.
Where they once stood
I was sorry to see the tomato plants go, but their time was over. As I pulled the vines, I thanked them for their service. We buy a few tomatoes during the off season, mostly Roma for sauce, but not many. It will be a long wait until next summer when we pick and eat the first, juicy, delicious new red tomatoes.
