Tags: cabbage transplants, canning equipment, dehydrator, Eva's Purple Ball, garden fantasies, garden plans, Green Giant, heirloom tomatoes, jars of tomato sauce, Odoriko tomato, photo of Rutgers tomato, Rutgers tomato ripening, tomato fever, unrealistic lists, wannabe farmer
I lost a whole hour today, just after lunch, reading about heirloom tomatoes. I made a partial list of varieties that interested me. In fact, the list was casually headed, “Like to try this year.” About 30 different names got onto the list, for one reason or another.
At the end of the hour, F. came into the office and said I looked “dazed.”
Heck, yeah, I looked dazed. Do you realize how huge and varied and fascinating the world of tomatoes is? I was lost. Forget sugarplums: visions of tomatoes danced in my head.
How am I ever going to keep it down to less plants than last year?
19 plants was way too many for two people. I gave away so many, and even so it was a constant struggle not to waste. But as I read about heirlooms with names like Green Giant and Odoriko and Eva’s Purple Ball, it dawned on me that all I really need is a food dehydrator and some dedicated weekends making sauce and figuring out my brother-in-law’s inherited canning equipment, and I could plant more, not less, tomatoes.
Maybe even 25. Or 30.
I could always give away jars of sauce, too. And it goes without saying some of those jars would end up with my sister and brother-in-law, in exchange for the generous use of their equipment come August.
I mean it’s not as if tomatoes are difficult to grow. The work practically does itself, anyway, because I like it so much.
Now all I have to figure out is how exactly to break it to F. Earlier this week, he was dismayed when he learned about the number of cabbage transplants I’m planning. I mean, they are a staple of his home culture’s cuisine, which I am now learning to prepare. I naively assumed he’d be thrilled, like me.
Over and over, it seems to hit poor F. anew, like a brick to the forehead, that he’s fallen in love with and just recently married a wannabe farmer. Sometimes he likes it, but generally it’s a slightly painful realization to someone who planned to get off the farm and stay there.
Who knows but he might freak out when he learns that I’m considering increasing our tomato investment?
Stay tuned for further developments.