Just how long -does- it take to grow a tomato?
When I read through the Now Growing list this morning, it struck me that that Roma tomato in the Topsy Turvy on the patio is the same Roma tomato that first showed up on June 7. It’s now the 22nd of June, and that Roma tomato still looks very green and not very big. Is it growing? Is it plastic?
I don’t even like tomatoes. But I do make one kick-butt pasta sauce from scratch. And to do that I need more than three runty poorly motivated Romas.
I’m not letting logic get in the way of a fine obsession. I know full well I could go down the road to the grocery store and pick up a couple of jars of perfectly good pasta sauce. I could even go back to the Produce section and hand-select a couple of dozen freshly arrived Romas in a little eco-compatible biodegradable seagull-friendly tray, and make my sauce from those.
But where’s the fun in THAT?
Actually, a little logic is already in play. The tomato plants in the house are leaving as fast as I can find them new homes. They’ll produce fine big red juicy Beefsteak tomatoes for someone, someday. For now, I need them to go away and quit making my eyes itch.
Why, then, am I growing tomatoes, if they make my eyes burn like a bad hay fever attack? Because “everyone grows tomatoes.” Because “tomatoes are one of the easiest plants to start with when you’re learning to garden.” Because I fell for the hype.
And I’ll probably do it again next time. Fall for the hype, that is.