Not that I want to be a god or a hero. Just to change into a tree, grow for ages, not hurt anyone -- Czeslaw Milosz
...I get up in the morning and head down to the field, and all the tomatoes are dead. Sometimes it's some lurid, overnight disease that's taken hold. Sometimes they've been decimated by deer or groundhogs or stupid, bastard kids who've tramped through the woods swinging baseball bats. When I stand there and see all the dead plants, I laugh. I can't do anything. Six months of hard thought and physical labor, every night of motherly worrying and hoping, are gone.
It's silly, but these tomatoes have consumed my life--and I have no idea exactly what I'm going to do with them. I'm sorry for being away, and I appreciate everyone who's stopped by, checking in during my absence. I'll do my best to honor your faith and repay your kindness.
Here's another picture for the ladies (thanks for the tip, Amber). I've got cuter ones coming.
8 comments:
Here's some ideas...
25 Things to Do with a Fresh Tomato from Bon Appetit
Tangy, bright, and gloriously juicy, a ripe, in-season tomato is any cook's dream. We asked this year's James Beard Award-nominated and -winning chefs to share their favorite ways to use a tomato.
See more on the link below
http://www.bonappetit.com/tipstools/slideshows/2009/08/25_things_to_do_with_a_fresh_tomato
Good luck!
Gypsy Mom
Now if only someone could post an article on 25 things to do with a dead tomato...I'm thinking rejuvenating face masks. The acids in tomatoes have to have some fantastic exfoliant properties. Women will go wild, over them. Which may not be as good a tip as the cuddly cow advice from Amber, but it's got potential. Hew, wait a minute. Why am I giving you that kind of advice...nice to see your words in front of me again.
They look to be on the verge of ripening, you could pickle and/or fry some.
I've eaten just about all our ripe tomatoes before I get to the back door. We have these orangey yellow "tommy toes" (is that country or what?) that are sweeter than any grape I've ever eaten. I kept waiting for them to ripen, and in my impatience I discovered yard candy.
Great job. I'm all a swoon.
Thanks, girls. Unfortunately, it's not just a problem of culinary variety. I've got 250 tomato plants, minus some recent casualties. Thus, my online absence. Had I envisaged how care they would need, I might have planned and apportioned my time differently.
I have no idea what the math will work out to; 250 plants = x tomatoes. I doubt I can eat or sell that many, and boiling them down to a gentle exfoliant application sounds great to me. I could also market the ruddy earth tones Cooper's Dermatological Tomato Paste gives the skin. There's nothing like the glow from a Mortgage Lifter heirloom.
Amber, I love yard candy. When my first tomatoes turned, I found myself grabbing them off the vine and stuffing them in my mouth, as if I had just escaped from some desert exile. For me, the action owed to a combination of joy and anxiety--celebrating this little industrious miracle and stealing it before it might suffer some mishap.
Independently, there may be nothing better--spiritually and synesthetically--than standing beside a plant and enjoying its fruits. Flannery O'Connor might have thought it anagogic, Gerard Manley Hopkins called it "inscape."
I forgot to add my convenient (and very male) recipe for dispensing with a boatload of tomatoes: the sandwich. Toasted, with warm mayo, fresh radishes, cucumbers, basil, yellow onion. Add goat cheese, pepper, and mustard. Yum.
Very Male? Don't you need some meat in that sandwich??? At least a fried egg....
Did you say what strain(s) of tomato these were? I'm sure they were heirlooms of some type.
simpl_matter,
You're right: Meat is a male essential. But I'm trying to be frugal and local. Check back with me in a week, as I hope to get some eggs from an exceedingly nice Zimbabwean/South African couple who now farm outside of Madison, Georgia.
Maybe, too, I overstepped by assigning sandwiches to a particular sex. Here's a pleasant sentiment: Sandwiches are for everybody. But I did have in mind the ease and speed with which a sandwich can be made. All the men I know like to prepare and eat their meals at once. For better or worse, in most things we're drawn to expedience and simplicity. Anything that takes over 15 minutes is rarely considered.
Once on a flight to Arkansas, the woman next to me spent an hour and half trying to convince me of the unquestioned greatness of a crock-pot. Well, neither I nor any of my male friends have ever used a slow cooker. It just takes too much planning. Because of the necessity of utilizing all this good local produce, I'm just now coming around to preparing ahead.
You're right I do have some heirlooms. Delicious, Vinson Watts, Mortgage Lifter, Black Krim, German Johnson, Cherokee Purple, and Black Brandywine, namely. I plan on making some seed recommendations after the growing season.
What's you blog?
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