Over the weekend, I realized that I hadn’t bought my veggies yet and that I was running out of time to let them shrivel up in their pony packs for a couple of weeks before I plant them.
I don’t have a vegetable plot, so I usually just mix them in among the perennials. I like growing edibles for the same reason that I like being able to drive a stick shift car, start a hot fire, and hammer a straight nail—all handy skills in case the plug gets pulled on technology.
So I swung by the True Value to pick up some veggies real quick, but apparently everyone else in Duvall had also swung by to pick up some veggies real quick because the racks were nearly empty. Only the vegetables that no one really likes were left. Artichokes and spaghetti squash were particularly plentiful. But I got lucky and found one last zucchini hiding out with the basil, and two crookneck squash tucked away among the cucumbers—unless they were mislabeled and I’m in for a surprise.
What I really wanted was tomatoes, but the only plants left that were “of some size” were heirlooms. Tomatoes are hard to pull off in Seattle because they don’t exactly thrive in gloom. So unless you have a green thumb or a greenhouse, you need to cheat a little and buy tomato plants “of some size”—waist high usually does the trick. Cherry tomatoes are especially popular because they increase (but don’t guarantee) your chances of success.
Although we’ve lived here for 15 years, Mr. Sorry and I still mourn the ease of growing a tomato. We both grew up in the heart of the Midwest and spent our childhood summers eating huge, juicy red tomatoes warm off the vines in our grandparents’ abundant gardens. So it’s hard to accept that it’s difficult to grow a tomato. And despite that, there’s always a big run on them every spring, so you better get them when the getting is good—which I failed to do this year until only the heirlooms were left.
Now “heirloom” plants always intimidate me. I know it just means they’ve been around for ages, but they seem “special,” and special plants tend to have needs that exceed my sorry attention span. Heirlooms are also more expensive, and I feel a whole lot better when veggies wither on the vine if I only spent $1.49. Frankly, heirloom tomatoes also look a little shoddy and misshapen—and that’s on the glossy sign selling their virtues. So I can only imagine how bad they’ll look in my garden.
Nevertheless, I bought a couple of plants. One is a Black Prince, even though I can’t say I’m excited about growing black tomatoes. How do I know when they’re ripe? And I’m fairly certain that Mr. Sorry is not going to be impressed with the fruits of my labor when I lay a slice of juicy black tomato on his plate, even if I lovingly cite its heirloom pedigree.
The other plant is a Cherokee Purple, whose sign read like a history lesson. Apparently, it was grown by the Cherokee Indians and has survived in cultivation for more than 100 years. How long you wanna bet it lasts in my garden?
Like your blog. Came by way of blotanical.
Glad you enjoyed the blog, Darla. Thanks for stopping by.
I’ve heard great things about Cherokee Purple. Make sure you update us on how it tastes. As for the black tomato…um. Hmmmm. I don’t even eat tomatoes (I grow them as a bribe for my family) but the idea of a black tomato terrifies me. What if it’s got rot and you don’t know? Good luck!
I’m also from the midwest where anything grows. Where are you from?
Well, rot is an issue I hadn’t considered. Now I’m feeling even less excited about the black tomatoes. I’m from the Northern Indiana part of the Midwest. How about you?
Shawnee, KS. Suburb of Kansas City. The land where anything grows…
We have seeds for purple carrots. I haven’t gotten the nerve to buy and plant those. They look like they’ve been murdered by choking!
Shawnee? I’ve sent many Christmas cards there. Mr. Sorry’s Aunt Sharon lived there for many years before moving to Overland Park.
Those purple carrots sound like fun. I’ve never tried root vegetables.
I honestly get such a kick out of reading your blog…….
Poor little tomatoes.
Jen
Oh, don’t feel sorry for them yet. They’re still fresh and healthy from the nursery. Give me a couple of weeks to do my damage. LOL
Now, now .. it won’t REALLY be black. I’m puttin’ money (virtual of course) down now that by the end of summer you are extolling the virtues of funny-colored tomatoes!
We’ll have to see about that. At the moment, it seems like a rather uncomfortable stretch.
Hi: What a nice blog!
I’ve heard great things about Black Prince, which actually have green flesh. And I just love Cherokee Purple, which has pretty good disease resistance. By the way, I’ve heard Japanese Black Trifele is a good prolific producer that doesn’t crack… Gotta love home-grown tomatoes… Enjoy your garden… Teresa
Hmm. Green flesh certainly makes the Black Prince more appealing. And I’m looking forward to the Cherokee Purple now that a few folks have commented favorably about it. I’ll keep my eye out for the Japanese Black.
Hey Sorry, here is a “timely” Heirloom tomato, The MORTGAGE LIFTER, developed in 1940. After crossing varieties for 6 years, Mr. Byles picked his best one, sold plants for $1 each and paid off the $6000 mortgage on his house. There may be some who will be sorry they didn’t plant these! lol They are pink, by the way!
With my luck, I would’ve had to take a second mortgage to fund the propagation effort.
I tried Cherokee Purple last year – didn’t have many fruits – accidentally let the 2 rot on the vine – I didn’t realize they were ready until it was too late. So back to reds for me. I love Mortgage Lifter. Funny thing is that here the heirlooms seem to be going faster than the regular varieties.
I have been wondering how I tell if they’re ripe. Meat thermometer? LOL
i lived on an alpaca ranch over the summer where they had a nice fenced in area earmarked for a garden that nobody really had time to do anything with. i took it upon myself to rototill some alpaca manure into the ground and plant some fruits and veggies. one of the tomato plants that i picked up for dirt cheap (cuz i was late to the store too) was one of those japanese black tomato plants. i’d like to note that this was my first veggie garden, i started huge, 50 feet by 75 feet. so yeah, the tomatoes….they are perhaps the best tomatoes anyone i know has ever tasted. i HATE tomatoes and i like these ones. Definitely planting them again next year….i have most of 10 acres to work with this time and i wont even be bothering with beefsteaks, early girls, cherry tomatoes, etc next spring. its all about the black tomatoes.
how’d yours do?
10 acres is a LOT of tomatoes for someone who doesn’t even like tomatoes! But you might be on to something with the alpaca manure, and two of my neighbors just happen to raise them so maybe I’ll beg them for some poop next spring.
It’s funny that you’d ask how my tomatoes did after I just posted about my micro zucchini. I didn’t have quite enough sun where my veggie bed was placed this year. The Black Prince produced pretty well and is a good, small size (like a big Roma) to ripen in the short Seattle season, but they tasted kind of flat to me and you have to pick them a little on the unripe side or they’re mealy. Maybe they’d be sweeter with more sun. The Cherokee Purple was tasty and had nice-sized fruits, but only two ripened (again due to sun). The Sungold were awesome and Mr. Sorry and I started bargaining for them as they ripened since we only had one plant (i.e. I’ll wash the dishes if you give me your share of today’s Sungolds). I’ll plant more of those next year and may skip the red cherries entirely.