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| Are you hot or sweet, Mystery Pepper? Only time will tell. |
Baby, It Ain't Over Til It's Over
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| Keep on sowin'! |
If I was exhibiting my normal patterns, I probably would have called it quits by now. I apparently love quitting, and I do it very well. The nights have been colder, the leaves are beginning to dry and drop, and much of the garden has given me all it has to give. Under ordinary circumstances, I'd have grown tired of my microfarming efforts and thrown in the trowel. But here's the thing - the garden has made me different. In a single summer, I've gained a deeper, personal understanding of growing, and of the incredible rewards that are reaped through patience and persistence. Sure, I was intellectually aware of these things before... I went to school for horticulture, you know! But there is a substantial difference between "knowing" something because you read it or were taught it, and really knowing something because you experienced it yourself. There is truly no substitute for first-hand knowledge.
For me, the approach of Fall always leads to a period of nostalgia. It's a time of conclusions and of new beginnings. I've been reflecting on the season, and I'd like to share a few of the things that I learned. I mean really learned, this summer.
1. Keep on sowing. All the time. Whether you want to or not.
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| Mid-season seeds for late-season lettuce. |
I had a few major gaps in my garden's production because I neglected to follow this rule. I was so thrilled with my carrots and beets as I pulled them from the ground, but as my supply dwindled, I realized with dismay that I would have been able to enjoy them ALL season if I had simply sown more in succession. The varieties I grew take about 65-75 days to reach harvest size, and I really dropped the ball on that one. Lesson learned, however - I sowed fresh lettuce in August that is now almost ready to cut for baby greens.
2. Expect problems. Embrace the chance to learn.
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| What the hell?!? Tomato trouble led to research and change. |
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| Cracking fruit makes Kris cry. |
In late July, my tomatoes were just starting to ripen and I was elated. Then they got all bitchy on me. Brown spots, curled leaves, dropping flowers, cracking fruit... what the hell?? I hit the forums and cracked open my books, looking for the solution to my problems, which I suspected were fungal. The tricky part is that often garden problems can be caused by multiple factors - weather, water, humidity, diseases, insects, human error... the list is endless. My book told me that the best course of action was to immediately destroy the affected plants, thus reducing the likelihood that the problem would spread to my other tomatoes. Sound advice, yes, but I didn't like it. Instead, I removed all of the spotted foliage, cut off the troublesome branches, and fertilized my sick plant with an organic mix high in phosphorus to try and coax some fresh flowers and fruit. It worked. Was I right and the book wrong? Do I possess healing powers? Not likely. Next time, it may not work out so well, but at least I have some weapons in my arsenal that I devised from first-hand experience.
3. You will always make mistakes. It's ok. Write them down!
My peas needed more sun. My cucumbers did terribly because they needed more space. I don't really like dry beans, so I probably shouldn't grow them. I need more herbs, peppers and greens and way fewer tomatoes. Eggplant seedlings need to be started in January, because they are sssllllooooowwwww. I'm not ashamed that many of my backyard endeavors didn't work out this year, but I'm determined not to repeat the same mistakes. After all, I need to save room for NEW mistakes!
4. Share the load, share the harvest, and share the joy.
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| Farmer A. |
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| Farmer C. |
One of the greatest things about growing food is that it fosters connections. You connect with the earth. You connect with a real food source and a sense of sustainability. You connect with people, both familiar and strange. Sharing the work of Mo Farm has been vital, and sharing the JOY of Mo Farm has been life-changing. I'm so lucky and so grateful to have been able to depend on my sister and my husband for a hand in the dirt.
These are just a few of the things that this garden has taught me this season. I know now that this is a way of life for me. It's not a phase, a fad, or a hobby. Growing food is something that I'll always do.
And baby, it ain't over til it's over.
The sun is still shining, the vines are still full, and I've got work to do. Time to get these hands dirty!
Tree & Twig - A Tomato Tour
Isn't it great when you fit in with strangers?
Last Sunday, my husband and I drove out to Wellandport to visit Tree & Twig Heirloom Vegetable Farm for a Tomato Tour. That's right... a TOMATO TOUR! Imagine my bliss. It seems I'm not the only one enraptured with the charms of the tomato, because the farm was packed with like-minded folks, smiling, sipping wine and chatting despite the grim weather.
The afternoon began with a walk through the gardens of our gracious host and inspirational farmer, Linda. Donning an 'I heart Tomatoes' tee (which I now passionately covet) and ankle-deep in the sticky clay of her land, Linda guided us along, providing candid stories of her growing season and her favourite (and less-than-favourite) varieties. Here are a few highlights from the garden...
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| Linda in her element. |
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| Fantastic peppers! Gorgeous! |
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| Blooming eggplant. |
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| Cool pepper! I'm sorry, I can't remember any variety names! |
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| Fresh. |
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| Amazing marigolds (above) and zinnias (below) from Linda's 'Organic Gardening' magazine trial gardens. |
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| Beautiful basil. |
We escaped the mud, and stomped back into the grassy yard to start the main event - time to taste the tomatoes! I was shocked at the depth of variety - with so many types and sizes and colours to taste, it was impossible to choose where to begin. I decided that my best bet was to work systematically and try them all. After all, it's a unique experience to have so many beautiful flavours together at once!
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| Just 1 of 2 tasting tables. Wow! |
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| Linda talking tomatoes. |
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| Some of these beauties came home with me. |
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| Tomato, basil & mascarpone combine to make a creamy, dreamy treat. |
Local Chef Mark Picone created sweet, fresh sips of delight using tomatoes, watermelon, honey, sunberries and basil that danced over our tongues with a bouquet of summer flavours.
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| Chef Mark Picone |
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| Tomato shooters. So delish! |
Black Krim - The Queen of the Heirlooms?
Do you suppose it's possible to fall in love with a tomato? This is the culmination of the gardening/farming season - the moment that growers and eaters of fresh food most anticipate. Yes, folks, it's officially tomato season, and you'll be hearing much about mine in the coming weeks. On Monday, I picked and ate my very first 'Black Krim' heirloom tomato, and I'm trying to find a way to describe the experience without sounding absolutely nuts.
I think this tomato just changed my life.
It's bulky and surprisingly heavy for it's size. It's beautiful in an ugly kind of way. It's perfect.
There is a very good reason why gardeners and growers so highly covet these prized fruits. Of all the edibles that you can grow in your backyard, the tomato by far offers the most exceptionally rewarding harvest. If you've never grown your own tomatoes, I have to insist that you try. Even just one.
For weeks on end, you watch carefully as the smallest plant begins to grow and change. You can't help but giggle with excitement when you glimpse the first, tiny yellow blooms that appear - a hint of the glorious fruits to come. Finally, little green globes begin to form, and you know you're in the home stretch. They swell, blush and ripen, twisting on their vines.
You've made tomatoes. You. All by yourself. Congratulations.
It's difficult to explain the first bite of a homegrown tomato. It's warm in your hands, full of sunshine and sweetness, a miraculous and compact package. Biting into it, the flavour rushes throughout your mouth, juices running down your chin and arm. It's impossible not to smile as you savour this reward for your efforts - this remarkably delicious fruit that was alive and breathing just a moment before. Everything you once thought you knew about a tomato was wrong. This is what makes life worth living.
My 'Black Krim' became the ultimate toasted tomato sandwich, but only after I ate half of it while standing on the warm deck with the summer sun on my hair. I'll never again be without this variety. She's the Queen of the Heirlooms. But that's just my opinion... what's yours?
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