As the cooler-than-usual summer drew to a close, I took stock of the oddities that happened in the garden this year and realized I'd missed showing one of the most stomach-turning phenomena...
I don't know what that is on the ends of my Amish Paste tomatoes, but those white splotches appeared on a quarter of the fruits. I closely scrutinized each one I picked, and if there was even the smallest hint of a white spot, it did not go into my little veggie basket. If anyone knows what those splotches are and how to prevent them (and whether they'll spread to my other tomatoes -- so far, no), let me know!
I made up for low yields this year with sheer numbers. I have eight tomato plants, four of which have produced, two which never grew larger than a foot tall, but bore a handful of fruit each, one that volunteered itself mid-spring and is just now fruiting, and one that popped out of the ground late spring and probably will not fruit. In the past, I dried excess tomatoes in my oven on low heat. This year, I managed to burn not just one, but two huge batches...
Somehow, they don't look quite as burnt in the photo, but believe me, they are chestnut-colored and bitter. I keep them on the counter and try one every day, hoping that either they will mellow or my taste buds will acclimate to the flavor. So far, no luck. In the upper right corner of the photo is the new batch I sliced open tonight. I'll try bringing them outside in the morning to put them out in the sun. We'll see what happens...
Now, as summer has turned to autumn on the calendar, the temperatures have risen, granting us a quick Indian Summer before the shorter days bring on the cooler air. I've saved tomato, cucumber, bean and zucchini seeds, planted garlic bulblets, onion, fennel and lettuce seeds, and the chard has reseeded itself again. I'm contemplating planting broccoli and cauliflower soon.
I am also thinking of more indoor pursuits. This Wednesday, a friend had tickets to the opening night of Molière's Scapin, playing at American Conservatory Theater, and I had the good fortune of being the one he took to see it. The human mannequin in this photo was performing outside the theater as we entered.
I am not sure whether she was hired by ACT or if she was a street performer. My friend works for a local museum and the tickets were comps from his job, so we sat up in the nosebleed section, the lobby portion of which has a great view down the stairs.
And the play? Scapin is a comedy with a fairly foreseeable plot twist that focuses on witty dialog. This production was well acted with a fair amount of improvisation. An enjoyable way to spend the evening indoors.
Happy autumn!
Waking Up Sideways
5 weeks ago
Oh, mine had tan spots! Not brown, not white but tan. My mom said epsom salt but it did not help. If you find out let me know.
ReplyDeleteGlad you got to go the play, what nice friends you have :)
Jules @ Trying To Get Over The Rainbow
Now that you mention it, they do turn tan after awhile.
ReplyDeleteYes, I feel fortunate to have good friends.
It's good that you got out of the house...made you forget about the burnt tomatoes for a while!
ReplyDeleteGetting out helped divert my attention from a lot of things that have been weighing on my mind, Tim. Yeah, it was a good thing.
ReplyDeleteHi Kobico:
ReplyDeleteGlad you had a good time.
Was it not a tradition once for people to take their unwanted vegetables to the play, just in case the actors did not measure up. That would probably be frowned upon now. Tomatoes would be perfect for causing mischief.
My corn grew three feet. I have ers sticking out of the ground. Not a good year for my crops. As they say here in Washington state, "I feel your rain."
Wally
Thank you, Wally.
ReplyDeleteStill scheming shenanigans, I see. I am sorry to report that the rotten tomatoes remained in my compost pile and did not make the trip to the theater with me.
Midget corn! For what it's worth, the corn seeds I planted were just too miserable to even attempt to sprout.
Escaping your own thoughts is definitely a good thing at times. I'll be doing some of that with a book tonight. The human mannequin is wonderful yet makes me grateful I got a bit of sun this summer. Now if there were just a magic wand to wave over the burnt tomatoes to make them tasty, life would be complete.
ReplyDeleteI think the tomatoes will be going into the compost pile tomorrow. I have another batch in the oven and I've been very careful to keep the heat low. Enjoy your book!
ReplyDeleteI'd sit in the nosebleed for free tickets to a play. As you many know, my tomato pursuits have been no where near as productive as yours.
ReplyDeleteAnd, thank you, for the big, fat hug.
You're welcome, sometimes a hug is all you need (and sometimes not!).
ReplyDeleteWow, sounds like you had a bumper crop. I'm sorry about your burned tomatoes. Wah. And I have no idea about the spots so I can't help. Have you thought about taking them to the county extension office or calling them?
ReplyDeleteLoved this post, ~That Rebel, Olivia
That is a great idea, Olivia! The closest I could find so far has been blossom end rot, but it does look a bit different. I'll look up my extension office, instead. Thank you!
ReplyDelete"blossom end rot" sounds like a delicious desease. The aliens in my science fiction books are germaphobiacs. I think I could do a chapter on them fighting the "blossom end rot" infestation. It gets everywhere.
ReplyDeleteUnfortunately, Walter, I think blossom end rot is caused by mineral imbalance in the soil, not germs. However, verticillium wilt sounds weirder and is caused by a fungus. Still not a germ, but at least fungi are organic.
ReplyDeleteI like the sound of "Blossom End Rot" better, but will seriously consider "Verticullium Wilt." My aliens have already been exposed to "The Frunk." See my website.
ReplyDeleteGermaphobiac aliens from across the galaxy are afraid of all human pestilence diseases, and the "Wilt" does sound terrible. Thanks.
Wally
We do seem to carry some nasty diseases! Now that you mention it, "rot" does seem worse than "wilt".
ReplyDeleteBy the way, I ruined another batch of tomatoes this week. I was so paranoid about burning them, I didn't leave the oven on long enough, and they didn't dry completely. As I walked by a few days later, I wondered "what's that horrible smell?" I now have batch number four in there, which I'm checking every few hours.