Solanum Lycopersicum

Jack Deatherage

(9/2021) I think I can safely ramble about the fruit, Solanum lycopersicum, without going off on some triggered, deranged rant regarding the nightmarish adventures I've had over the decades while attempting to grow enough of them to last me through a winter's worth of pasta sauces- so long as I avoid fruit's vulgar name. Not that I haven't learned a few things about growing S. lycopersicum from those past adventures.

This year's attempt (I'll skip everything that went wrong early in the season) involved three heirloom varieties I grew out from bought seeds- 'German Pink', 'German Johnson' and 'Striped Roman'. The plants were placed in 5-gallon plastic buckets filled with fresh and previously used commercial potting soil and dead bluegills. A specific Espoma organic fertilizer was added once the plants were well established. They were watered every other day during the dry, hot weeks.

The 'German Pink' variety of S. lycopersicum was first trialed in straw bales during a prolonged summer's drought a few years ago. It did extremely well, sending roots down through the bales and into the soil beneath them! Grown in buckets this year, the plants quickly grew past the top of the 6' high fence they are tied to. They also ripened ahead of the other two varieties- middle of the first week in August. As far as flavor? I haven't tasted them this year. I'm growing them for someone else. I'm told they are as good as they were when grown in the straw bales.

'German Johnson' is a first and last time variety in my garden. It produced the first fruits, but they all had blossom end rot (BER). Then they began to sport dead blossoms which sent me into a panic until I stumbled upon a web blog that informed me blossom drop is normal for this variety which was bred in North Carolina. I'm told to be patient and I'll have lots of large fruits late in the season. That might be worthwhile in NC, but Maryland's late season can be one of heavy frosts and I'm not into fist sized fried green toma- urr S. lycopersicum. (Man, that was a close one.)

While the German varieties can be cooked down to make a flavorful sauce I view them as more of a slicing/sandwich toma- umm S. lycopersicum. I'd use both Germans for saucing if needs be, but 'Striped Roman' was to be this season's sauce base.

This is the second year I've trialed 'Striped Roman'. I first grew it in the straw bales several years ago and was not happy! BER was so prevalent I barely plucked 1 out of 10 fruits from those plants. The only reason I trialed them again was at the Mad One's instance that the flavor was fantastic and I had to try them in better conditions! Six buckets dedicated to 'Striped Roman' and I've plucked and pitched down the yard more than half the fruits the plants set! Middle August before any fruits that didn't have BER began to ripen. I don't care how good these things taste. They simply aren't worth the space or expense when there are hundreds of varieties I haven't trialed yet!

With the Mad One safely back in Europe, I's nearly rudderless in a sea of S. lycopersicums! There are over 600 named heirloom varieties! Fortunately, another foreigner I occasionally act as a sidekick for on Monday morning errands has wondered if I might acquire seeds of the fruits he remembers from his homeland- New Jersey. New Jersey is a place I vaguely remember wandering through with the DW's da forty years ago on our way to a casino.

"Can you find me the tomatoes of my childhood?"

I suppress the enraged rant that threatens to explode out of my head at the mere mention of the word tomato. As I calm myself I realize I'm nearly giddy with excitement. Something new to explore!

I immediately warn the foreigner his childhood tomato may well be as legendary as the Hanover Tomato- first brought to my attention by Patricia Cornwell in one of her murder mystery novels. The Jersey Tomato and the Hanover Tomato are- depending of which references one reads -various tomatoes grown in specific regions of their states- unlike the San Marzano tomatoes which are both a varietal name and a region of Italy known for its tomatoes in general. (The French refer to "terroir"-soil, water, culture and variety that create a product; vegetable, fruit, wine, cheese and meats among others, uniquely identifiable as from a specific region. I've read that terroir applies to Hanover tomatoes, but not the Jersey Tomato- again, depending on the references.)

There are varieties said to produce the Jersey Tomato; Ramapo and Rutgers- seeds of which are available today! What I didn't expect is they'd be hybrids! I generally avoid hybrid seeds because I've been wrapped up in the heirloom craze of the past two decades- mostly because the heirlooms are supposed to be more flavorful than the hybrids which were bred for commercial harvest, shipping and long term storage among other characteristics such as resistance to viruses, fungi, wilts and the like. However, Don Cool, my "organic uncle" once showed me a tomato plant he was overwintering on a window sill.

"It's a hybrid I really like. None of the other plants, grown from the same seed packet, produced tomatoes as good as this one. I'm keeping the plant alive, so, come spring, I can root cuttings from it and have exactly the same tomatoes I enjoyed this past summer."

Damn! Another adventure I can add to next year's tomato garden because I'm not set up to grow transplants well from seeds. Being able to have trays of rooted cuttings come plant out time may give me the jump on the season a greenhouse would have. Which, as it turns out, has been an experiment I ran last winter and well into this fall.

I brought in two snapdragon plants and overwintered them in the bow window. Of course they grew leggy from lack of adequate sunlight and I occasionally snipped off the new growth and simply stuck the stems in a big pot I'm growing ginger in for another experiment. The cuttings rooted and though still leggy, have been blooming madly in the window all summer. Tomato cuttings should be a cakewalk!

Now the New Jerseyan/Jerseyite was wise enough to ask if the DW was going to continue letting me play at exploring tomato varieties and various methods of growing them. I assured him she is onboard with me growing tomatoes for saucing. And to hedge my arguments in that direction I've left seed catalogs- full of luscious pictures of tomatoes -in strategic places about the abode.

To my surprise, the DW mentions a Bulgarian red pepper she spied in one of those catalogs. When I told her that was the variety the Mad One and I had ventured to New Freedom, PA to bring transplants home years ago she said, "Well, grow them next year."

"Yes dear." (I go fist pumping and mad dancing about the living room.) The 2022 gardening experiment is on!

Oh man. Will this wreck my nap schedule?