Big, red, ripe, round, and juicy.
I forget about all the sweatin’ and diggin’
Every time I go out and pick me a big one ...
You can go out to eat and that’s for sure
But there’s nothin’ a homegrown tomato won’t cure
If I’s to change this life that I lead
I’d be Johnny Tomato Seed
Cause I know what this country needs
The Perfect Homegrown Tomato
There is indeed hardly anything that tastes better than a fresh homegrown tomato on a warm summer eve. The good news is, even in the northern short-summer latitudes of America, it’s possible to achieve that iconic big, red slicing fruit—though sometimes with a fair amount of horticultural engineering. Start early indoors, plant sets in rich ground when it’s warm, add heat boosters such as dark mulch, and withhold water in late summer—there are many tricks, and they usually work.I’ve done so myself, in challenging tomato territory where Pacific breezes bring cool nights and chill springs. One dare not plant until mid-May, and ripe tomatoes don’t arrive until late August. But the expansive tomato variety inventories in the seed catalogs reveal a large and colorful kaleidoscope of alternatives to the eternal Early Girl horticultural expedition. One cannot fail, for example, with Sungold, a hysterically robust yellow cherry tomato—one year, I had 8-foot plants bearing literally hundreds of fruits, so many that I cooked most down into sauce that went in the freezer.
Time to Harvest
The one paramount question: How many days? To maturity, that is. Almost all seed varieties bear a number for this criterion, and, according to WSU’s Miles, it’s the most important information for home gardeners about tomatoes.Bring the Heat
Growth isn’t the issue—fruiting and ripening are. Except when exposed to deep chill, such as night-time temperatures below 45, tomato plants grow heartily. But fruits won’t set at excessively cool or hot temperatures, and ripening is highly dependent on accumulated warmth.Water for Flavor
Drought makes ’em ripen. Withholding water in late summer does boost ripening, Miles says—though it may also mean smaller fruits. “But that also intensifies flavor,” she adds.Debunking Transplants
Beware myths—they’re, um, mythical. Most gardeners think one must set out transplants for success, but I’ve had amazing results, even in my climate, with direct seeding in early June. Transplants can help yield ripe fruits earlier, but remember that ripening depends on warmth, and plants grown from sets can pile up buckets of green fruits that won’t ripen until there’s enough accumulated warmth.For example, last summer I had Kellogg’s Breakfast 4-week-old transplants that I set out on May 15. I also whimsically planted Kellogg’s seeds direct on June 5—theoretically, a six-week difference between the two plantings. But the transplant fruits ripened barely a week ahead of the direct-seed fruits.
Winter Tomatoes
OK, what about all those green tomatoes? You will have green tomatoes at the end of the season. Yes, fried green tomatoes are so iconic that they made a movie about them (more tomato iconography). But garden chefs need not force themselves to this measure.Instead, green tomatoes brought indoors will continue to ripen slowly, well into the depths of winter. Wide debate embraces how to do this: Cut the whole vine at the base and hang it upside down in the kitchen; hang the plant in a heated garage; store the tomatoes wrapped in newspaper, like apples; set the fruits on a shelf in a pantry room ... and so on. I’ve tried all these, and they all work. I lean toward hanging the entire plant in a warm, well-lit room not in direct sun. Keep checking for decay, and pitch the bad ones.
This is why my favorite tomato lately is a kind most gardeners have never heard of: storage tomatoes, such as Golden Treasure, of which this year I used my last fruits on March 1. Yes, really. I stored them to ripen on a shelf in my mud room.
Fresh homegrown tomatoes. In March.
Everybody asks: How’d you do that? It’s late winter. We live closer to the North Pole than the equator. You don’t have a greenhouse. No atrium. Is this wizardry?
The necromancy is nature’s. I’m just a happy hitchhiker.
“Try a dozen varieties,” Miles urges. “Two dozen. Try a new one each year. There’s no limit to nature’s diversity.”
And no limit to the transcendent treasure of tomatoes.