(Oh!) For the Love of Tomatoes

Growing up, I hated tomatoes.

In fact, there was nothing that I hated more.  Though I loved other vegetables, tomatoes' sweet acidic slime (as I perceived it then) would send me running from the room in disgust.





Summer was the peak season for my parents' vegetable garden, and suddenly every surface in the kitchen was covered in tomatoes of all sizes and degrees of ripeness.  I can still remember the tangy, grassy smell hanging in the air.  Tomatoes oozed everywhere, their full ripe bodies near to bursting with all of the attention and water that my father lavished on their care.  And they didn't just stay on the counter; they appeared at nearly every meal: sliced tomatoes on the table at breakfast, stewed tomatoes and black-eyed peas at dinner, tomato sauce over pasta, tomato juice (from which my parents enjoyed Bloody Marys), and last but not least the dreaded "Tomato Sandwich."  I would watch in horror as my parents slathered two pieces of white bread with Duke's mayonnaise, layered in thick slices of tomato, slap it together, and take a huge bite.  I'd never seen a more miserable sandwich in all my life.  (Though I now have grown to love tomatoes, the tomato sandwich is still not something I fancy.  But to each their own!)

My father grew the best tomatoes.  People from our community would make a special trip to the house, just hoping to be offered some tomatoes that he had grown.  I remember thinking, "What's so special about stupid old tomatoes?"  I certainly didn't see anything good about them.

Me and my father, circa 1993.

Every evening after working a long day on his feet at the drugstore, my father would be outside.  I would watch him in the garden, leaning over some vegetable or another, plucking off any insects and trimming damaged leaves with care.  Row by row he would do the same, until the sun went down or dinner was ready.  Then he would toss his clippings on the compost pile, have me help carry that day's collection of produce, and head for the house.  I have since learned that it is this level of daily dedication and love that makes for the best gardens.

Over time, I came around to enjoying cherry tomatoes, probably on a dare.  I eventually came to love all tomatoes, and I now know that my father grows the best tomatoes I have ever seen or tasted.  His years of experience came from growing up on my grandfather's tobacco farm, where he would work all day in the fields alongside his siblings.  It was hard work, and it shaped him into the man he became.

My father (far left) and his siblings, circa 1950.

There's no two ways about it: gardens are hard work!  A successful garden is a personal commitment of your time.  Even if one is fortunate enough to afford all the gadgetry that makes watering automatic, there's no magic device that automatically pulls weeds, prunes, and repels insects.  Though there are certainly products that make it easier, which we can talk about later.

The act of gardening does represent some duality.  On the one hand, there's the painstaking labor: the tilling, sowing, composting, watering, weeding, pest control... the list goes on.  On the other hand, there's the immense joy that happens when you are finally able to savor the fruits of your labor (literally!).  This is a kind of joy that is easy to share with others-- You can grow food for your family and share it with your neighbors!  Gardening brings people together in the best kind of way, which is a great recipe for joy.  You should always plant what brings you joy, be it flowers or tomatoes.  Joy is a key ingredient in gardening, equally as important as good compost, water and sun.

For me, I experience that joy most profoundly when I reach to pick a ripe tomato and it's so perfectly ready to be picked that it just lets itself fall off the vine and into my hand with hardly a tug.  It's an exquisite feeling, to know that all your hard work has lead to this moment and you are reaping the rewards.

However, this blog is not Only about tomatoes.  Gardening has shaped my view of the world and brought me so much happiness through hard work; I would love to share that experience with others.  Though "happiness through hard work" could probably be my life's mantra, starting your own garden is actually fairly easy, and if you start small, the time commitment can be minimal.

Graphic Credit: C.L. Fornari, www.gardenlady.com

More than anything, I wish to communicate to whoever is reading that Anyone can garden.  It doesn't matter if you have prior experience.  You don't need special training.  You can even garden in limited space and on a small budget!  Many of my posts will be aimed towards beginner gardeners and starting your own garden.

My husband and I are newlyweds and have just started to construct our first vegetable garden in the backyard of our suburban home.  I will share with you our experiences, including both successes and failures, along with my research into the subject of successful gardening and any helpful tips and tricks that I've discovered.  I am an experienced gardener, but by no means an expert and am still learning much along the way.

Occasionally, I love to talk about the biology of gardens, but I will try to avoid being so scientific that the content is dry.  Instead, I love to infuse humor into these topics, because honestly how can you not crack a smile when you're talking about the benefits of worm poop??

I hope that you'll join me!  Stay tuned for more posts on gardening, recipes and joyful living (but mostly gardening!)


Cheers!

-- Sarah