For the past five years or so, my very best friend and I have diligently gone to Tomatomania each April when it comes to town. We may have missed a year somewhere in that time, but still buy tomato plants elsewhere so we can make like suburban farmers and enjoy our own home grown, warmed by the sun orbs of summer lusciousness. I have to fess up and say my friend’s plot is quite huge so she can let her tomato plants grow wildly over the sunny terraced hillside behind her house, whereas I am only a poser who keeps two large pots near the side of my house. And if those tomato plants are lucky, they’ll get most of the sun they’re supposed to have. I’ve had good years, and then I’ve had not so good years — like this year.
My plants are tall and scraggly, have been producing lots of blossoms, but very few tomatoes. Yes, they’ve been appropriately watered and fertilized. I even remembered to plant them making sure the first sprout of leaves was buried. I tried egg shells around the stems this year, too, and ironically, this is the first year I’ve had stems rot. I’m about ready to rip them out of their pots to plant something else. However, my friend is having a bumper crop.
After paying $6 for a gorgeous heirloom tomato at one of our fabulous farmer’s markets last Sunday, she called to say she wanted to drop off some tomatoes, then the very next day sent me home with more. What does one do with so many tomatoes outside of occasionally enjoying one sliced and lightly salted?