Who Can Resist an Heirloom Tomato?

A few years ago, I broke up with my first love.  Although he will always hold a special place in my heart, his spotty skin, seedy character and lack of purpose made Csikos Botermo unwelcome in my life, er, garden.  You see, Csikos is a tomato, an heirloom from Hungary, and even though he was first to ripen in my rainbow colorful tomato garden, thus winning my love and admiration, others proved superior to his size, appearance and flavor, so he had to go.

When it comes to heirloom tomatoes, I have a problem.  After decades of eating uniformly shaped, red tomatoes, I discovered the Wonderful World of Heirloom Tomatoes.  Sort of like the old tv show, Wonderful World of Disney, but with much more flavor and without animated singing characters.  

Enjoy several tomato varieties in a pie

It began with seed catalogs.  With countless options and a rainbow of colorful fruit choices, I was powerless to resist the charms of Green Zebra, Cream Sausage and any plant with a name I found hard to pronounce.  Perhaps my fascination with heirloom tomatoes stems from my grandmother's garden.  As I child, I helped Granny harvest hundreds of tomatoes and I was intrigued by the variety of shapes, sizes, colors and flavors.  Together, we loaded baskets and buckets and carried them to her patio, where we filled huge galvanized steel tubs with water and washed the fruit, carefully inspecting each tomato for blemishes, before sorting and carrying clean fruit to her kitchen for processing.  When I opened a seed catalog to find beautifully photographed heirloom tomatoes, I remembered those huge pinks, tiny yellow and red pears, deep purples, red pastes and, my personal favorite, smooth-skinned meaty yellows.  

Great Whites often weigh over two pounds

Heart & Sole's first big (50 plants) hybrid tomato garden became part of what is now known as "The 2009 Late Blight Pandemic of Eastern USA," and Richard and I read everything we could find about how to prevent such a devastating loss for future crops.  Research led us to heirloom tomatoes and when I saw photographs of childhood memories, I was a goner.   

After last year's bumper crop of thousands of pounds of tomatoes, I promised Richard we would scale back this year.  When he asked how many plants we would grow, I replied, with fingers crossed, "Oh, about 25."  So far, there are more than 35 tomato plants growing at Heart & Sole and several more are container plants at our home.  Don't tell Richard, but I have about twenty more young seedlings in the "birthing chamber" that I hope will produce a late crop.  When it comes to heirloom tomatoes, I just can't resist the impulse to grow a colorful rainbow of favorite varieties.  Already, I am bemoaning the fact that there is only a single plant of some popular types; what will I do if something should happen to that plant?  Will I survive a summer without Great White's garlicky flavor?  What if Japanese Plum fails to produce those huge, meaty deep pink paste tomatoes?  And, worst of all, if Cream Sausage dies, it will be at least another year before we can enjoy white tomato soup. . .  These are anguishes that keep me awake when I should be sleeping.

Some of last year's beauties

If you, too, find yourself falling under the spell of heirloom tomatoes, try to sneak as many varieties as possible into your garden.  The season is brief, so celebrate each ripe fruit with a wide smile and dripping chin.

Tangy and juicy, ripe green tomatoes make the ultimate sandwich

Don't forget to save seeds from your favorites and look forward to next year's garden.  For growing notes from my farm, visit www.seedtales.com and click on the "Heirloom Tomato Notes" page.  Meanwhile, enjoy the fruits of the season, whether from your own backyard or from a local farmer's market.  No wonder the French call them "love apples."  

Amish Paste even looks like a Valentine