My husband is a tomato zealot. Each spring, Dennis visits a high-quality nursery and returns with a carload of tomato plants, which he lovingly and organically coaxes into bearing fruit. This year was no different. Despite our on-going discussions with a landscaper about upgrading our dilapidated yard, 28 plants went into the ground last May. I'm not exaggerating here.
He planted yellow cherries, tiny grape tomatoes, romas, zebras, some big beefy varieties, a few heirlooms, and some delicate orange-fleshed orbs. The young plants were given a patch of earth that bakes under the full Southern California sun. Dennis amended the soil, caged the plants, watered them regularly, and prayed to the tomato god for a good harvest.
To protect his investment from human destroyers, he included a clause in the landscaper's contract stating that his workers were to take "reasonable care" not to harm the tomatoes during the six weeks of patio and fence construction. Zealot, right? Can you foresee the litigation? Property owner sues for breach of contract and intentional infliction of emotional distress caused by workers' willful disregard of cherry tomato vine.
Anyway, we got through the yard project with the tomato plants mostly intact. Instead, the assault on the harvest came from a different front, the furry, four-legged rodent variety. Although we usually have an outdoor cat around, this summer, we were sans kitty, which created an opportunity for the neighboring mice to move freely about the yard. They targeted the very large, low-lying fruit. Given that they've kept coming back for more, the mice seem to be as focused on eating my garden as I've been. Dennis has been setting traps and trying to lure them to their deaths with cheese. No luck. The mice just take the provolone, grab a bite of tomato, and snatch a basil leaf from a pot nearby. Appetizers, anyone?
Despite the rodents, we've still reaped more tomatoes this year than we could possibly use. The neighbors have been finding little gift baskets on their doorsteps, and I'm considering cajoling my sons into setting up a roadside tomato stand. They just need the oversized straw hats and some clever signage. Of course, my kids would never agree to this, which is a real shortcoming. Suburban kids are so lacking in solid 4-H credentials.
As I said, the yard project is completed for now, but given the tomato situation, we left a swath of ground untouched. Landscaper Tom has promised to return in September to finish the last quadrant by installing raised beds, a little lawn, and a meyer lemon to go with the existing Mexican lime and tangerine trees.
I know that some of you have tomato envy, but admittedly, I'm very close to my tomato limit. This year's bounty has been too much of a good thing, but I can't in good conscience wash my hands just yet. I have a few gallons of pasta sauce and tomato soup to whip up and freeze for October. By then, my tomato intake levels will have adjusted, and I'll be craving a big dish of penne bolognese.
Recipes coming soon.
He planted yellow cherries, tiny grape tomatoes, romas, zebras, some big beefy varieties, a few heirlooms, and some delicate orange-fleshed orbs. The young plants were given a patch of earth that bakes under the full Southern California sun. Dennis amended the soil, caged the plants, watered them regularly, and prayed to the tomato god for a good harvest.
To protect his investment from human destroyers, he included a clause in the landscaper's contract stating that his workers were to take "reasonable care" not to harm the tomatoes during the six weeks of patio and fence construction. Zealot, right? Can you foresee the litigation? Property owner sues for breach of contract and intentional infliction of emotional distress caused by workers' willful disregard of cherry tomato vine.
Anyway, we got through the yard project with the tomato plants mostly intact. Instead, the assault on the harvest came from a different front, the furry, four-legged rodent variety. Although we usually have an outdoor cat around, this summer, we were sans kitty, which created an opportunity for the neighboring mice to move freely about the yard. They targeted the very large, low-lying fruit. Given that they've kept coming back for more, the mice seem to be as focused on eating my garden as I've been. Dennis has been setting traps and trying to lure them to their deaths with cheese. No luck. The mice just take the provolone, grab a bite of tomato, and snatch a basil leaf from a pot nearby. Appetizers, anyone?
Despite the rodents, we've still reaped more tomatoes this year than we could possibly use. The neighbors have been finding little gift baskets on their doorsteps, and I'm considering cajoling my sons into setting up a roadside tomato stand. They just need the oversized straw hats and some clever signage. Of course, my kids would never agree to this, which is a real shortcoming. Suburban kids are so lacking in solid 4-H credentials.
As I said, the yard project is completed for now, but given the tomato situation, we left a swath of ground untouched. Landscaper Tom has promised to return in September to finish the last quadrant by installing raised beds, a little lawn, and a meyer lemon to go with the existing Mexican lime and tangerine trees.
I know that some of you have tomato envy, but admittedly, I'm very close to my tomato limit. This year's bounty has been too much of a good thing, but I can't in good conscience wash my hands just yet. I have a few gallons of pasta sauce and tomato soup to whip up and freeze for October. By then, my tomato intake levels will have adjusted, and I'll be craving a big dish of penne bolognese.
Recipes coming soon.
Good heavens; you have neglected to give cridit where such is due. You must acknowledge that everything Dennis knows about tomates he learned from me, his father -- just like pinochle.
ReplyDeleteIn addition, everyone should know that there are at least 3 kinds of mouse traps: conventioanl spring traps, sticky traps, and tender traps. Try some peanut butter as bait and one is assured of catching mice. Of course, the best way is the shoot them; is that permitted in Glendale?
Bill-O