Sadly, the tomato plants in my little garden didn't offer much this year. Oh, I was so hopeful! I planted them in full sun, tied them up, pruned the suckers, watered plenty, but just a few were all we got. Third year now of a low yield, and I'm thinking some tomato-tending research is in order for my winter days. I was talking of my tomato woes with a friend and she was sure her bumper crop this year came from the peat moss she'd mixed into her soil. I'm writing that down in my striped garden journal. This gardening is an experiment, isn't it? A s-l-o-w experiment, where tweeks and adjustments can take far too long to to satisfy. Ah, vell.
Good thing there are fruit trucks that come by in fall, offering boatloads of produce for those of us who need it. Boxes of roma tomatoes for us, to roast and freeze*. I've found this way of preserving to be the best fit for me this fall, given the little time that I have. A full day of canning simply can't be found, but I do have a few minutes to halve, salt, and slip into the oven sheet pans of fresh romas. They'll stay there in that low heat for 6-7 hours, depending. And the house smells the way an Italian grandmother's might, fresh that follows to mellow, then to deep and warm. Hearty. The color of bright red turns to crimson, the skin puckers and the meat draws itself in. What juice remains is saturated, savory, and sweet.
Cooled (and sample-slurped), then into bags or jars for the freezer. A stockpile of goodness.
*I first read about roasting tomatoes for the freezer in Molly's first book, A Homemade Life. I'll be ever in her debt for writing about that. Online recipe here.
P.S. If you have any tomato growing wisdom, leave it in the comments? I'm ready with pen and garden journal in hand!
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