Basil: Round Two

In case you missed it, my first attempt at growing basil this season failed miserable.  The basil grew fine, but then the snails ate it to the quick.  Turns out basil is one of their favorites.

basil fail

Two tiny ‘sticks’, formerly known as basil, right

Today I planted more basil, but with additional precautions.  I bought a packet of copper tape and wrapped it around the planter bed. A small electrical charge will keep them from crossing the copper tape.  One package was just enough.  The new basil is now planted next to the tomatoes.  The plants do well together, so they already have synergy going for them. Last year’s basil grew close to the tomatoes and remained healthy all season.

Since snails are resourceful, I needed to take additional steps to keep them out of the bed.  Clippers in hand, I removed all the lower, over-hanging tomato leaves.  There is no sense wrapping the box in copper, only to provide a nice bridge into the box for tasty dining.

Snail bridge?  All Clear.

Snail bridge? All Clear.

With my gloves firmly in place, I ran my hand along the under side of the upper box, making sure any hiding places were clear.  You don’t want to box the snails *inside* the planting bed.  I’m going outside one more time around dusk to be sure I haven’t missed any interlopers.

Meanwhile the tomatoes, no doubt confused by our warm winter, are growing like weeds.  They volunteered in the planter box…

volunteer tomatoes

Self-sown (volunteer) tomatoes

in the gravel walkway…

tomato in gravel

I’ll just set seed here if you don’t mind

and they volunteered in the compost bin.

tomatoes in compost barrel

Tomatoes growing through the cracks of the composting barrel

No shortage of tomatoes this year.

On the subject of compost, I’ve stopped turning the bin for now.  I want those adventurous tomatoes  to have a fighting chance.  I scooped out handfuls of compost and used it to dress the tomatoes and basil.  I’m still amazed when I see the rich, black compost, knowing it came from dried leaves, twigs and kitchen scraps.  It feels like my own little magic show in the garden.

newly planted basil

Newly planted basil, dressed in organic compost, surrounded by copper barrier tape

Now that basil, round two is safely tucked in and the tomatoes are sporting a few flowers, I’ll soon  have the makings of a delicious caprese salad.

Meanwhile, check out this fabulous site All About Slugs: find out what really works to control the slimy menace.

We focus on reliable information and natural, tested solutions that really work. We never recommend anything that isn’t safe for children, pets, wildlife and the environment. You can control these pesky pests and still enjoy a beautiful, safe and natural yard and garden.

The site provides a list of slug and snail resistant plants, many of which already grow in my garden. Of course I’m trying to grow three of their favorites too: basil, lettuce and strawberries (the fruit, not the leaves).

For a chuckle or at least a guffaw, take a look at Slugapalooza. You’ll find clever poems, drawings and photos and (I kid you not) an ‘interview’ with a snail. Enjoy!

It’s all in the Timing

Great cooks make it look easy.  They pull together a variety of dishes and manage to have everything on the table at the same time.  It’s all in the timing.

For three years now, I’ve tried to plant the tomatoes and basil so that they’re ready to go at the same time as well.  I love caprese salad, and the novelty of growing two of the three main ingredients is fun.

Here’s one of our salads from last summer.

Caprese Salad

Caprese Salad

In prior years, the basil took off, and the tomatoes took a long time to catch up.  This year all the tomatoes self seeded in late winter, sending me scrambling for basil.  I purchased a small plant from the nursery, and planted it near the volunteer potato.  It was about the same size as the tomatoes when it went into the ground, so I patted myself on the back and figured a job well done.

Ha!

potato plant

Scene of the crime

Something devoured my plant!  I’m not naming names or anything, but their initials are ‘S’ and ‘S’.  Those slippery, slimy garden pests noshed my lovely plant down to the nubs.  Boo!

Now here we are three weeks into spring, the tomatoes are taking off and the basil is…well…gone.

basil plant eaten by snails

Once upon a time I was a Basil plant

I was chatting with my friend Kirra today and she mentioned planting her basil by mistake too close to the tomatoes.  Then it hit me.  Last year I planted the basil and the tomato side by side without any problems.  Since tomato leaves are poisonous, I wonder if the proximity kept the S’s away?  It’s worth a try.

Just before hitting the publish key, I searched the term ‘tomato companion planting’ and you’ll never guess what came up: basil!  Last summer was a happy accident.  So I’ll be headed to the nursery for another small plant, and now I know exactly where it should go.

tomato plants

Hearty Tomatoes

Do you have a favorite summer salad?

Tomatoes, Cubed

Last year I planted Baker heirloom tomatoes from seed, a gift from my nurseryman friend, Doug. They produced beautifully through the early fall.

orange tomatoes 2013

Tomatoes on the vine, 2013

Tomato seeds are small, so I left a glob of wet seeds together to dry on a piece of cardboard.  I usually dry seeds on wax paper, but I was fresh out, so I used the back of a tea box instead. Once dried, all the seeds stuck to the paper.  No worries.  I just stored them in a glassine bag, cardboard and all.  Earlier this week I planted the seeds along with the cardboard in my mini green house.  We’ll see how it goes.

Tomatoes, squared:

In order to hedge my bets, I bought a packet of seeds from fellow blogger Stacey Weichert at Down To Earth Digs.  The seeds from Stacey’s garden are  also heirloom.  She calls them Natures Riddle.  They came packaged in a cute paper envelope. You can check them out at her Etsy shop.

Tomatoes to the third power:

While busy saving and buying seeds, my garden bed had a good chuckle and then planted a few of its own.  They’re  spaced nicely, too so minimal thinning required. Prior experience tells me that these volunteers will be a hardy bunch.  Since I planted five or six varieties last year, I don’t know which ones will come up.

Volunteer tomatoes

Volunteer tomatoes

Tomatoes cubed:

The mathematical goddess of tomatoes is really having a good time with me.  One small tomato plant seeded and grew out of the bottom of my cylinder composting bin.  I don’t know what it’s chances of survival are, but I’m inclined to let it grow and see what comes of it.  Plenty of people grow tomatoes upside down in Topsy Turvy containers.  Why not a compost bin?

Compost tomato

Compost tomato

tomato in compost bin

Composting bin, the long view

In the world of gardening, anything can happen between now and tomato time. Blight, tobacco horn worms, the Cosmos.  Preferring the optimists path however,  if things work out I’ll be giving away little tomato plants all over town.

I’ll leave you with this funny quote:

“Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is knowing that a tomato doesn’t belong in a fruit salad.”

― Miles Kington

Tomatoes: Last Call

tomatoes

Tomato Goodness

It’s hard to say goodbye to summer tomatoes.  Unless you buy heirlooms or ‘cherries’, the tomatoes in the store are flavorless.  I used to think I was having a streak of bad luck, until I read that farmers have spent nearly 70 years perfecting the look of the tomato, at the expense of flavor.  They’ve removed the sweet, wonderful taste.

We grow our own every summer and enjoy the harvest for a few months.  This year we had plenty of orange cherry tomatoes, a few red heirlooms, one or two orange ones and a ton of Roma’s.

It’s mid-October now, and the plants are looking tired.  Today I finally pruned away the dying branches on most of them.  I’m still seeing one or two small tomatoes a day, so it’s hard to let them go.

Spent tomato plants

Spent tomato plants

The Roma plant is still going strong, pumping out at least a dozen or so a day.  Even the garden pests can’t keep up, so we’ve had plenty for salads and salsa.

If you’re a salsa fan, here is my husband’s quick and easy recipe:

  • 6 – 12 tomatoes (we’re using the Roma)
  • 1/2 sweet or yellow onion
  • a few ounces of Jalapeno peppers (or to taste)

Combine and blend.  Serve with corn tortilla chips or as a garnish.

Halloween Countdown:

cat inflatable

Halloween at our house

Tomatoes: Ripe for the Picking

I have nothing original to say about tomatoes.  Grow them. Eat them. Love them.

Fresh off the vine they are sweet and delicious. They resemble nothing you get in the grocery store, unless you’re lucky enough to find heirlooms.

I seem to be a two-crop wonder this year: my first optimistic attempt at growing them from seed; then round two with starters from the nursery.  No matter.  They’re here now and I’m enjoying them while I can.

Given our temperate climate, tomato plants can produce well into late October.  If that holds true, I’ll have a beautiful bounty for the next six weeks.  Yum!

Here’s what’s ripening on the vine:

Orange cherry tomatoes

Orange cherry tomatoes

roma tomatoes

Roma Tomatoes

green tomatoes

Indeterminate (hopefully Baker Heirlooms)

Thanks for stopping by!

Tomato Envy

peppers and tomatoes

Amy’s bounty

You can’t rush the garden.  Not even when you have a case of tomato envy.

You can encourage it, yes.  Lots of support…of course.  But rushed, never.

I planted several heirloom tomatoes this year, but they had a hard time making a go of it.  I bought a few starter plants to fill in, just in case, which in the end was a good idea.  I’m not sure any of the seeds were viable.

The plants from the nursery are green and healthy and starting to bend from the weight.  I scooted the rolling tomato garden to the back of the patio so I can keep an eye on them.  They’re drying out faster now that the plants have taken flight.

City Picker with tomato plants

City Picker with tomato plants

Any day now…

Meanwhile, I received these lovely tomatoes from Amy’s garden. You’ll hear more about Amy in a future post.  Mike paired the tomatoes with basil from our garden and made a delicious caprese salad.  It’s one of my favorites and a sure sign that we’re in the heart of summer.

Caprese Salad

Caprese Salad

Garden Guffaw: Plotting Tomatoes

Heirloom Tomato Seeds

Heirloom Tomato Seeds

I walked the garden with my husband this morning as we made summer plans. We’re enjoying a warm, sunny day with highs climbing into the seventies. I wish you could be here along with me, especially those of you snowed in.

In order to maximize the planting boxes, we’ve agreed on a place to relocate the raspberry vines. I’m always angling for more planting space out back, so I’m pretty excited.

This year I’m planting all of my tomatoes in the City Pickers.  They worked great last year. The ability to move them around as other garden plants grow larger is a boon.  It feels great putting a plan in place.

My sister sent me the following funny story a few years ago, about planting tomatoes. It always makes me smile. I don’t know the origins, so I’ll extend thanks to the universe and the anonymous writer of this tongue in cheek tale. Enjoy!

Plotting Tomatoes:

An older gentleman living alone in New Jersey looked forward to planting his annual tomato garden, but it was very difficult work. The ground was simply too hard. His only son Vincent would usually help him but he was in prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son describing his predicament.

Dear Vincent,

It looks like I won’t be able to plant my tomato garden this year. I’m just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. I know if you were here my troubles would be over. I know you would be happy to dig it for me, like in the old days. I’m feeling a little sad. I hope you are well.

Love, Papa

A few days later he received a letter from his son.

Dear Papa,

Don’t dig up that garden. That’s where the bodies are buried.

Love, Vinnie

At 4 a.m. the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man and left. That same day the old man received another letter from his son.

Dear Papa,

Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That’s the best I could do under the circumstances.

Love you, Vinnie

I hope you’re smiling, too.

Growing Tomatoes

Growing Tomatoes

Gardening is cheaper than therapy and you get tomatoes. ~Author Unknown

Tomatoes and Basil, Together at Last

My husband made a delicious Caprese salad for dinner last night with store-bought tomatoes and basil. It’s one of our favorite dishes. He found plump, flavorful heirloom tomatoes, filled with juicy sweetness. Today, at last, we have our own ripening tomatoes on the vine and a healthy crop of basil.

I planted three organic starter plants on one side of the City Picker planting system, and three sets of seeds on the other. Everything came up. When the pumpkin vines took over the area between the garden beds, I simply rolled our tomatoes to a sunny spot on the walkway, something I couldn’t have done otherwise. I’ll definitely plant tomatoes in the box again.

Okay, all you tomato growers: are your tomatoes ripening on the vine?  Ours took 94 days from seed to red fruit.

Tomatoes and Basil from the Garden

Tomatoes and Basil

Tomato Quirks: I learned a thing or two from this article.
The Green Grower: Bonnie vegetable starters now come in biodegradable “pots” that go straight into the ground with the plant.  No more plastic pots!
The World’s Largest Tomato: A record holder at over 7 pounds.
Insalata Caprese: My husband usually just wings it, but here is a recipe similar to the one he prepared.

Waiting for Tomatoes: Looks Aren’t Everything

Green Tomatoes

Green Tomatoes

All six tomato plants are healthy, sporting a plethora of green tomatoes. We have a heat wave moving through this week, with temps predicted in the 100s three days in a row, a boon for ripening fruit. What’s good for the tomato isn’t good for this fair-haired gardener, however, so I may follow the cats lead and take a nap on the cool tile floor for the entire afternoon. Ha!

Tomato sandwiches were a summer staple growing up. We grew our own tomatoes and used them in a variety of ways. I love eating warm cherry tomatoes, straight from the garden, bursting with flavor in my mouth. I miss those delicious red beacons of summer.

We rarely enjoy tomatoes served in restaurants these days, and find few tasty options at the grocery store. I assumed it had more to do with a too-early harvest, but I learned this last week from our local paper that it’s even worse.

Accordingly to Lisa Krieger of the Mercury News:

“Scientists have caught the culprit behind those tasteless tomatoes. Turns out, tomato growers’ best  intentions over decades are to blame.

By Breeding tomatoes to ripen evenly and harvest easier, growers unwittingly robbed those sumptuous ruby reds of their taste.”

By disabling the GLK2 gene, tomatoes were more efficient and economical to process.  What farmers didn’t know, is that tomatoes with the normal version of the gene are 20% higher in sugar content and 30% higher in lycopene thought to be useful in human nutrition.

What can we do?

  • Heirloom tomatoes retain the gene, along with sweet cherry tomatoes.  If you plant your own, be sure to choose these varieties.
  • Shop at farmer’s markets when possible, where you are more likely to find heirlooms.
  • Take some time to inform yourself of the Right to Know Movement. If you live in California, you can vote to label genetically engineered foods on the Ballot this November. Help ensure Californians have the right to know and choose what they buy to feed their families.

You can read Lisa’s full article on-line at Mercury News.com.