Story time.
When this year began, I was planning on moving to Salem in June (by the Summer Solstice to be precise). And because of that planned move, I didn’t go to the effort of seeding the various herbs and vegetables that I typically tend to do in late winter/early spring. Enter global pandemic. Timelines were not only amended, they were pretty much blown to smithereens. I did what made sense in my own mind and refocused my energy on planting seeds and creating in the kitchen. If there’s anything I’ve learned in my 34 years, it’s that I’m happy playing around with food and playing in the dirt (and even happier when the two converge).
At the very end of March, I decided to go ahead and plant a few seeds for the hell of it. Even though I knew it was way too late to start them by seed, I planted 6 of my wild cherry tomato seeds on a whim. I was fully expecting nothing to happen as it was already too warm for them to germinate. But what the hell, I had a lot of time on my hands.
For about three weeks there were no signs of life among my tomatoes. I wasn’t shocked seeing as we endured some blazing hot days during that time period which was unseasonably warm even for Houston standards. But then we got a good rain shower and cooler temperatures returned. And all of the sudden, as if they suddenly figured out they were late to the party, 3 of the tomato seeds germinated. I remained skeptical of their potential even as they grew and put out their first true leaves. I remained skeptical still as they shot up and outgrew their small seeding tray. I even reserved hope as I planted all three in the ground in my backyard that is shaded for most of the day by neighboring trees.
My skepticism soon turned to obsessive observation and attention as they grew swiftly. I made sure they had enough trellis support and the proper nutrients. I checked the underside of the leaves for pests, picking off many caterpillars that threatened my experiment. And then one day, as the first green tomato showed the faintest hint of blush, I couldn’t help but marvel at the tenacity of these plants. They defied the odds and my expectations. And even as the temperatures rose above their ideal production range, they are still producing as I write this! I’m definitely planning on saving seeds from the strongest plant as it has more than proved its tolerance for flooding rain and high temps.
In caring for these tomato plants this spring and summer I’ve learned that sometimes nature operates outside of our expectations. And even though you think something might not work initially, if you give it some time it might blow your mind. These lessons have been incredibly important to me during this time. And maybe, if you read this far, you were able to get something out of my tomato story, too.
In honor of this lovely member of the nightshade family, here’s a collection of my favorite tomato recipes from the archives, some recent and some rather ancient. Enjoy!