Last year we tried one seedling. We nurtured it with "vegetable blend" soil--not the cheap generic brand, but the pricey Miracle-Gro dirt. Oh the irony. I grew up in Iowa where good black dirt is as close as your backyard. Here--not so much. We babied that seedling with daily watering and filtered light, careful to move her when the spring sun got too harsh. When she outgrew her pot we transplanted her to a giant terra cotta crock. We harvested about ten small, tough cherry tomatoes. Tasty but a bit hard. In the end, our coddled tomato plant met her demise when a gust of Arizona wind knocked her off the plant stand we'd perched her on to avoid becoming "bunny buffet." Her pot was shattered, her spine and limbs broken. It was "matercide."
This year, we "adopted" two seedlings. We vowed not to smother our babies, rather like parents who've learned their mistakes on the oldest sibling, we planted them in plain old plastic buckets with plain old generic potting dirt. Aphids attacked this year in a plague to rival Jehovah's wrath upon Egypt. Determined to stay organic, I've sprayed with soapy water almost daily. But even with all of the extra attention, those voracious veggie vandals continue to return. And...we've had few blossoms, hence few tomatoes.
Then the other night that world renowned agronomist, Pat Sajak mentioned to Vanna "tomato plants need to dry out in order to flower successfully." If Pat says so, it must be true. After all, doesn't Pat always know where the $100,000 wedge is? So...I started to let the aphids have their way with the tomato leaves, and... voila`--the twins began to flower.
Last night we celebrated with a "first fruits" dinner. I know what you're thinking. It's a bit like two vultures picking over carrion, but let's face it. If hubby and I are ever forced to raise our own food, we will be eating shoe leather.
Still, it didn't seem right not to honor our little tomatoes with the presentation they deserved. Bon appetit!
