Tomatoes
August is the month of tomatoes and courgettes glut. Tomatoes
are 'pomodoro' (golden apple) in Italian, which reflects the fact
that the first tomatoes to come from the New World were
yellow. At some point in French they were known as 'pommes
d'amour' - the apples of love - but the reason for this
seems obscure. Those cheeky French, eh!
Tomatoes are relatively easy to grow, as long as you know
what you are doing. Your first task is to germinate the
seeds. This requires a heat of around 20C. I've got an
electric propagator on a window sill at home and it works hard in
the spring on tasks such as this. I sow the seeds in modules
and then transplant them into pots.
Tomatoes are tender and do not like any temperature below
5C. You have to decide whether to grow them indoors or
outdoors. This means that the timing of your cultivation is
crucial. This year I made the mistake of sowing some tomato
seed too early - maybe at the end of February. They
germinated but I couldn't really provide an environment with enough
heat and light to bring them on steadily. A later sowing
actually did much better.
Normally tomatoes occupy the middle bed of the polytunnel and I
train them up strings. This is much easier than tying plants
to canes. This year, though, that's exactly what I've
had to do as I've moved the tomatoes to the side of the polytunnel
for a change. They like a rich soil, heat, sun and
water and, apart from pinching out the side shoots, you just watch
then flower and wait for them to ripen. If I was growing
outdoor tomatoes I'd make my own 'grow bag' using feed sacks and
place them against a sunny wall.
My favourite variety is Gardeners' Delight, which is a small an
intensely flavoured. Ideally I'd just like to walk
along the row, picking and eating fruits as I go, just like I do
with raspberries. (Botanically speaking tomatoes are fruits but the
US Supreme Court has classified them as a vegetable).
They should be sweet and they should smell of tomatoes, which is
something that is not true of a supermarket tomato in
December. (I seriously wonder about the nutrient density of those). Grilled tomatoes on toast - yum!
Basil
In the kitchen very much linked with tomatoes (and particularly
in Italian cooking) is Basil, a fragrant herb. The smell of
freshly picked , crushed Basil is unmistakable. Basil is a tender annual and another one of those plants
that can be germinated early in the season in a propagator.
Although needing a consistently warm site Basil must not be allowed
to dry out. It works well in window sill containers where it can be give
constant attention but it shouldn't get too much hot
sun. There are many basil cultivars but generally I'm growing Sweet or Genovese Basil and this gives the
familiar large sweet leaves. Some cultivars seem to be quite
bitter.
At the risk of sounding like 'Posh Nosh' a tomato, basil and mozzarella salad is one of
the simple luxuries of this time of year.
Dealing with the tomato glut
Faced with a load of perfectly ripe tomatoes the obvious
thing to do is to make lots of sauce. This can then be frozen or
bottled for use in the dark days of
winter. It's worth knowing that ripe tomatoes have a low
acidity. This makes it risky to bottle them after having
simply boiled them. The reason is that botulism spores are not killed by normal
boiling and can remain active in low acid environments, producing
very nasty toxins. One remedy is to increase acidity with vinegar, lemon juice or
citric acid (available from pharmacists as long as you can convince
them that you are not a coke dealer). Of course you could
make something like chutney, which includes vinegar for acidity.
Another remedy is to heat the food to 121C or more, which will kill
botulism spores. This happens to be approximately the
temperature achieved in a pressure cooker with 15 lb. weight.
Tomatoes need a long growing season and if time runs out you may
find that you are left with a lot of green tomatoes. Some of
these may be ripened on the vine by hanging the plant up in a
frost-free place. Alternatively you can make green tomato chutney, one of the few things my
dad ever cooked.