When It Rains, It Blogs

Black Cherry Tomatoes from the Bird Back 40

I really should be working. No -- really -- I should. It's a Saturday afternoon after a nice morning rainstorm and there's lots to do. I could plant garlic! I could pull weeds! I could clean the cat litter boxes! I could clean out the garage! So much to do. Instead, I blog.

No wonder the cats hate me.

There is one gardening project that I did take care of on this fine weekend day. See those nice cherry tomatoes in the top right corner? Those are Black Cherry tomatoes -- some of the best tasting cherry tomatoes I've ever had. And the thing is -- I didn't plant them this year. Like many tomato plants that spring to life in the spring -- the plant that produced these luscious Black Cherry tomatoes were "volunteers" in the Bird Back 40.

Saving Tomato Seed

I don't normally save tomato seed. I shove my plants so close together in the springtime that there's often a chance of cross-pollination. The tomato "experts" claim that cross-pollination among open-pollinated, heirloom tomato varieties is very rare, except I've seen it happen. And it's taken place right here in the Bird Back 40. Saving seed, therefore, simply isn't an option in my book.

But I made an exception with this particular tomato and if you're asking why, be patient, because I'll get to that in a moment. You see, this was one exceptional Black Cherry tomato plant. It produced golf ball sized cherry tomatoes in some cases -- bigger than most Black Cherry plants normally produce. That's a variety worth saving.

Black Cherry Volunteer Among Melon Vines

Secondly, this volunteer sprang to life in a raised gardening bed that had been reserved for melons, carrots, eggplants, bush beans, beets and a smattering of leftover pepper plants. In other words -- there was nary another tomato plant to be found in this bed. All of the other plants were on the other side of the Bird Back 40, reducing the chances of cross-pollination.

Finally, I'm almost positive that this plant sprang from a cherry tomato that I had put into this raised bed a year earlier. I'll be honest with you. The plant I put into the ground last year was nothing to write home about. It caught some sort of funky disease not long after plant out. And while the disease didn't kill it, it did severely limit production and what came off the vine wasn't all that good to be brutally honest.

Black Cherry Tomatoes Ready for Seed Saving

This is one of the challenges that heirloom growers face. Sometimes you get good tomato. Sometimes you don't. This Black Cherry tomato plant wasn't all that great. However, it was planted next to another heirloom variety that churned out buckets of large tomatoes -- one of my best producers last year. Figure that one out. I still haven't figured out why some plants do well -- while others planted two feet away perform horribly.

When I noticed this Black Cherry plant volunteer growing among the many melon seeds I planted -- I resisted the urge to tear it out. I didn't really spot it until I noticed the first ripened offerings to be honest. And they were pretty darn large and pretty darn good in my opinion. Secondly, the volunteer plant was prolific with production. Why tear out a good thing that Mother Nature rewarded you with? To put it short and sweet, you don't. You roll with what Mother Nature gives you.

Fermenting Tomato Seeds in a Windowsill

It's while I was cleaning out this particular bed last weekend did I first notice the golf ball sized offerings it had produced. I've never seen Black Cherry tomatoes so large before. So, I borrowed a page from the Father of the Modern Tomato, Alexander Livingston. He would often spot what he called "sports" in his tomato plantings. It's from these "sports" where he saved and gathered seed. This is how Livingston helped create the tomato as a major food source. Before Livingston's time, tomato plants were considered to be "ornamentals." They were to be admired as flowers and nothing more.

The process of saving seed to be used next year isn't all that difficult. It's a little messy -- but also a lot of fun. You simply cut the tomatoes open -- squeeze that tomato juice, pulp and seed into a plastic cup and top it off with two to three tablespoons of water. I also cover my cup with plastic and make sure to poke holes in the top so it can breathe. The most important part of the process is placing it in a spot where the cat won't fuck with it.

Bacterial Growth After Fermentation Process

I have many cats who like to fuck with things. It's what cats do. That's why my cup of tomato goop and seeds went on a windowsill in the office that I keep closed off to the cats. There's no temptation there if they can't see it, and the cats choose to chase marauding mockingbirds instead.

This process, by the way, is called fermentation. It's an important part of the saving seed process because the fermentation acts to remove diseases and other problems that can destroy tomato seeds. After five or six days in a windowsill, your cup of tomato goop will be covered with a fine layer of bacterial growth.

Good Seeds Sink to Bottom

Yeah -- it looks like Hell but it's the result you're looking for. After five or six days, you're ready for the next step. Simply remove the bacterial goop that's formed at the top of the cup with a spoon and fill the cup with a little more water. The good seeds that you'll want to save will sink to the bottom and stay there. I like to pour off bits of water because it gets the leftover tomato goop out before the seeds can spill out. After four or five rinses, you have clean tomato seed at the bottom of your cup. Better yet -- there's no more tomato goop.

After pouring off the rest of the water, while using a fat finger to stop the seeds from spilling out, place your freshly cleaned and fermented seeds on a paper plate or better yet -- a paper towel. Spread them out -- separating each seed if possible (easier said than done). Place your paper plate or paper towel containing seeds in a room or a place where marauding cats can't get to it, and in a week to ten days you have tomato seed for the following spring.

Black Cherry Seeds for Next Year's Garden

It means next year's tomato garden WILL have a Black Cherry tomato plant. Better yet -- you can also trade seed with other growers and try out new varieties.

There's a strange satisfaction that comes from saving your own tomato seed. I can't explain it. I can only tell you that it's there. There's a strange sort of pride that develops when you witness the seeds that you saved from the previous year suddenly spring to life the next spring. I can't put my finger on it, except to tell you that it does exist.

I suppose it's another one of those guilty pleasures derived from gardening. Whatever it is, I like it.