A Bite of a Vine-Ripened Tomato...

Remains of the Bird 2011 Heirloom Tomato Garden

It's a slice of heaven. It sure is. That taste. That texture. That wonderful, tangy surprise of a summer fruit is all but a distant memory now. This is the current state of the Bird tomato garden in late November. Fairly sad isn't it? They are still producing here and there, which is one reason why I haven't torn them out yet and moved on.

It's hard for me to admit that the season is over. What is coming off the vine now cannot compare, in any shape or form, to the tasty treats that the wife that is Venus and I enjoyed earlier this summer. But it's also loads better than the tomato shaped rocks you'll find in your local produce department these days.

At some point -- the 2011 summer garden will be removed and I will be forced to admit that it's all done.

I'm just not quite there yet. If you live for backyard gardening like I do, winter is a lonely time indeed. But, before this garden is indeed removed and plowed under, it's high time we look back to the summer favorites from 2011. There are some new entries on this list. As with any summer tomato garden, some varieties did well and others -- well -- better luck next year!

OUTSTANDING:

Eva Purple Ball Tomatoes

1. Eva Purple Ball: This was a new entry to the Bird Back 40 home for wayward heirloom tomatoes. I'd heard about this variety from other growers across the country, but again, what does well in New England or Arkansas doesn't necessarily translate into guaranteed success on the Left Coast. Growing heirloom tomatoes is a crap shoot anyway. Some do well, some not. Put this one in the "Did Very Well" category. A single bush yielded 50-80 gorgeous slightly pinkish, slightly purplish large tomatoes, some very close to the 1 lb. range. You'll find this tomato in our salsa, tomato sauce and whole tomato canning efforts from this summer.

2. Marianna's Peace: After a rather poor showing last season, MP bounced back in a rather eye-popping fashion this year. Our plant was susceptible to some early Blossom End Rot (BER) problems during the spring, but those vanished as the weather warmed. MP is one of the best tasting heirlooms I've ever tasted, and it wasn't unusual for this vigorous plant to set four new tomatoes at once. That's always a good sign.

3. Black Krim: One of the tastiest offerings in the field of black (or purple) tomatoes. When a single Black Krim bush delivers a bushel of 40-50 tomatoes? It's a good year.

Stupice Tomato

4. Stupice: If you can describe Stupice with one word? It would have to be WOW! Outstanding production from a variety that wins in backyard gardens from East to West and all points in between. Stupice sets tomatoes in large clusters, much like small cherry-sized tomatoes. They grow to about the size of a golf ball or larger. Not the best processing tomato due to size, but perfect for salads, snacking in the yard, or fresh salsa creations (fresh Rooster's Beak?). If you have room for just a few plants in your yard, I highly reccommend this productive variety.

5. Campbell's 1327: I don't know if I'll ever be able to thank the person who saved this variety from the brink of extinction, but they deserve some sort of recognition. Once the standard-bearer of processing tomatoes used in Campbell's Soups, it was tossed aside and abandoned for those hard-as-a-rock processing tomatoes that can withstand bruising on bumpy trips down long country roads from farm to processing plant. Campbell's 1327 is one of my "Reliable Reds," and produces bushel after bushel of round, red and ripe tomatoes that are blemish free and tart on the tastebuds.

GOOD:

1884 Tomato

1. 1884: Seeds for this variety were provided at the last moment by Sacramento gardener Nels Christensen. I can see why he's partial to it. 1884 delivers large, meaty red tomatoes that reveal a surprising orange-colored flesh once they've been sliced open in the kitchen. A wonderful processing tomato and perfect slicing tomato for those big barbequed turkey burgers that deserve a big slice of tomato on top. Originally discovered in 1884 by a Mr. Williamson in the debris after the big flood in Friendly, West Virginia, this variety will find home in the Bird Back 40 again.

2. Green Zebra: It's been a few years since I've been happy to report a large haul of green zebra tomatoes, and this was just one of those years. My former boss at the workplace, who is rather partial to this variety, received his fair share of the crop. It wasn't unusual to pick anywhere from 10-15 tomatoes during weekly harvests, which makes for a pretty darn good year.

Thessaloniki Tomato

3. Thessaloniki: It doesn't roll off the tongue easily, but this was one productive plant in the Bird Back 40. Thessaloniki is a rare Greek heirloom, introduced to the USA in the 1950's by Glecklers Seedsmen, Ohio. Nice production, nice size, outstanding old world tomato taste. The only reason this particular variety didn't make it to the outstanding list is that it is just a common red tomato.

4. Celebrity: It's the only non-heirloom that found it's way into the Bird tomato crop this year, and for good reason. You can depend upon a bushel of round, red, ripe and mostly disease free tomatoes from Celebrity. While other varieties susceptible to disease battled Blossom End Rot, Celebrity stepped up to the plate in a big way with some nice production.

5: Evil Seed: A big, beautiful black beefsteak type tomato that I will never the true origin of. The original plant was delivered to my desk several years ago with the name "Rainbow" attached to the side. The funny thing is, there is no Rainbow tomato that I know of -- especially a black tomato variety. The gentleman who produced this offering wound up doing some none too kind things to his wife and children, thus the wife stuck it with this unfortunate name. It's an unfortunate story for a great tasting tomato.

JUST PLAIN BAD:

No Brandywines in This Bunch!

1. Brandywine: It kills me to put this variety on my list because I absolutely LOVE Brandywine tomatoes. Although I was encouraged by some early season production, most developed BER and the plant just petered out on me by the time July rolled around. When the backyard garden produces one or two Brandywine tomatoes? It's generally not a good year. I hope for better luck next year.

2. Yellow Brandywine: Jeez -- what a Debbie Downer I am. Two varieties of Brandywine in the Bird Back 40 and I get squat. Yellow Brandywine was an absolute bust. Several seed sources do note that this variety can be "finicky to grow," and I can confirm as much. I will not attempt to grow this variety out again.

3. Mortgage Lifter: I either can't find a reliable seed supplier for this variety, or I'm just having the worst of luck. This marks my third year for growing this treasured heirloom, and while I do receive a few of them, it's not enough to warrant that much space in the Bird tomato garden.

4. Azoychka: This is one of my favorite Russian heirlooms, and after some rather encouraging early season production, Azoychka started to produce golf-ball sized tomatoes that were really nothing to write home about.

Processed Tomatoes Ready for Winter Storage

5. Bloody Butcher: I'm surprised this one landed on this list because Bloody Butcher is normally a wonderful, early-season producer. Not this year. It didn't produce early. It didn't produce late. It didn't produce much at all, and BER took most of them.

And there you have it. Although these 15 varieties represent half of what we grew in the Bird Back 40 this year -- these are the varieties that stood out the most in terms of production or disappointment. Other varieties that at least deserve an honorable mention include Caspian Pink, which grew well in the in-ground test bed and produced some very tasty tomatoes late in the season. Cherokee Purple is yet another treasured variety that did moderately well, as did Kelloggs Breakfast, Beefsteak, Druzba, Lemon Boy and Jubilee.

As 2011 begins that slow slide into 2012 -- all that's left are the memories of last year and the promise of what is to come.

Winter Means It's Time to Say Goodbye

A Charlie Brown Christmas

This is probably my least favorite time of the year. Despite the holiday madness -- Thanksgiving turkey with far too much stuffing (not to speak of the butter) and the task of setting up Christmas lights and the Christmas tree -- it's also a melancholy time for me.

I'm a gardener. I like to see things grow and nourish. And you just don't get much of that during the months of December, January and February. Oh -- sure -- the break does give you some time to start thinking about next year's garden. But it's a wait that is far too long for me.

Perhaps we need a new law? Perish the thought!

The wonderful wife that is Venus and I always wait far too long to tear out the summer garden. Here it is -- December 4th -- and I'm not too proud to admit that we still have a couple of dead and dying tomato plants that I still haven't stuffed into the Green Waste can yet (hey -- it can only hold so much).

Heirloom Tomato Plant Monsters

It wasn't the greatest year in terms of tomatoes -- for anyone that I know of. It started poorly with sickly starter plants in the spring -- we never did get the Sacramento summer heat needed to produce a bumper crop of heirloom tomatoes and then ended a lot quicker than I imagined with a couple of frozen nights in early November.

Heirloom Tomato Season: Exit Stage Left!

Don't be fooled by the extra large heirloom tomato plant crop to your left. It may look big -- but this was one disappointing year. This one bed produced one tomato blunder after another -- ranging from poor production to a nasty run of Blossom End Rot (BER). Nearly every German Orange Strawberry that came off the vine this year was stricken with BER.

Yet -- the Black tomato to the left -- Evil Seed -- and the Brandywine planted to the right suffered no such BER problem. They were not overwhelmingly productive -- no tomato plant was this year with the exception of the Reliable Reds -- but why just one plant would suffer from BER problems while others planted a foot away did not continues to vex me.

There are no answers here -- just questions.

So -- the goal this one fine, fall day was to move these plants into that Green Waste can pictured to the immediate right of the tomato jungle. This was easier said than done. A gallon of water cannot contain five quarts. It can hold four. And I had far more plant material than space. And this was just one of THREE beds that had reached the "end of the life cycle."

You can see why we're still tearing out portions of the summer garden.

I'm certainly not going to repeat the same mistake I made three years ago -- when I was told by a certain, high-ranking, Sacramento City employee that I could order a "special pickup" from a Green Waste Truck. I thought that was a wonderful idea -- so I spent an entire weekend day piling up my entire summer garden in the street.

Imagine my "chagrin," when I called for a "special pickup" and was informed on the other end of the line that these "pickups" were limited to three to four times per year. "So, when's the next pickup," I asked. "We'll be there in six months," the cheery voice on the other end of the phone replied.

Great...My neighbors were just THRILLED with that pile of garden waste that slowly vanished over the course of six to eight weeks. As soon as that Green Waste truck emptied my Green Waste can -- I packed it full again.

My method of removing tomato plants is fairly simple. I attack the outer edges with a long-handled pair of garden shears (which are also used for cutting back roses). Once the growth around the PVC cages has been cut away -- I employ the "tug and rip" method -- which removes the vines from inside most of the cage (you'd be surprised how far these vines can travel). At that point -- I remove the cage from around the still-visible base of the plant -- toss it aiside -- and dig up the root system with a well-used shovel.

Rip, Tug, Shred!

Removing the eight plants from this bed -- plus the numerous volunteers that sprung up around it (they kept the Vole population well fed) -- took about four hours.

Getting all of those tomato plants out of the backyard and into a Sacramento City Green Waste truck is a process that may last well into 2011.

So -- why go through all this trouble and effort? I thought you would have figured it out by now.

It's because we're gardeners. Which means -- we're quite insane...

The Volunteer!

Every tomato grower worth a salt has them (I love tomatoes and salt, yum!). Even if you don't want them -- if you grow heirloom tomatoes -- you're bound to get them. If they didn't pop up this year -- they most certainly will next year.

Or perhaps you just haven't spotted them in the yard yet. Chances are they are there -- hiding from you in plain sight.

"They" in this case are "volunteer tomato plants." And in this -- our third year of gardening in our vast North Natomas gardening laboratory -- Venus and I have them in spades. Volunteer tomato plants -- like the one to your right near the grapevines -- are popping up everywhere.

Did we have tomatoes planted in this spot last year? Actually -- uh -- no. So how did it get there then? Good question. I'm still trying to figure that one out myself. If you some how deduce the answer -- please let me know as Venus and I have plants popping up all over the yard this summer.

I wonder what would have happened had we actually had decent weather this spring? Even more volunteers? Perhaps...

Most of the volunteers that we find -- like the eight or nine plants that popped up underneath this peach tree -- get yanked out the moment I see them. I don't want tomatoes competing with peaches. In fact -- I don't want tomatoes anywhere near the peaches.

So -- how did they get there then? I DUNNO! Maybe some bird ripped off a cherry tomato -- flew into the tree -- and snacked on it there? The seeds were prevented from blowing out of the yard from the tree and dropped to the base instead?

Our sneaky cats put them there? I wouldn't put it past them. Hey! Look at it from this perspective: If our mangy cats can can deposit hairballs in every room of the house -- then they can certainly place tomato seeds in out-of-the-way places.

Venus and I have been busy this June -- ripping out volunteers where we find them. Volunteers in the potato bed? Yep! Volunteers coming out of the bark around the raised planter beds? Absolutely! Volunteers coming up with grapes? Um -- yeah -- that too.

But not every volunteer tomato gets the "rough and tough" treatment. Like these plants -- for example. They are volunteers that popped up on the edge of our in-ground test bed. Since they're in a bed that we already prepared for gardening AND they've got a steady source of water -- they've received a temporary stay of execution.

Now the big question is: what kind of tomato is this? Good question! We haven't figured that out yet. The nice thing is -- the volunteer plants are loaded with small tomatoes. They're big enough at this point where I can be reasonably assured that they are not cherry tomatoes -- but that's about all I can tell you at this point.

Venus thought she noticed some ribbing across the top -- which might indicate a Costoluto Genovese -- but it's just too early to tell yet. We had a mass of different kinds of heirloom plants located in this area last year -- so this could be one of those varieties. It's also entirely possible that this could be some sort of cross.

Whatever it is -- it certainly appears to be doing quite well where it's planted -- and with that many green tomatoes forming on it -- well -- it would be a crying shame to just up and tear it out.

Thus -- the reprieve.

This isn't the only volunteer thriving in the Bird Garden this year. Black Cherry tomato plant volunteers are also springing up near a raised bed where I put a Black Cherry plant two years ago. I had a massive number of volunteers a year later (last year) and the process appears to be starting all over again this year.

I'm of the opinion that you can never have enough Black Cherry tomatoes. It just might be one of those "unwritten" rules. Nobody needs to tell you. You just sort of -- well -- know.

As for whether our volunteers will be *good* or *bad* -- the jury is still out on that. Sometimes they turn out to be cherry tomatoes that are really nothing to write home about. But -- sometimes -- the volunteer happens to be the return of a tomato you forgot to seed the previous season -- but really wish you had.

That's how we rediscovered our black "Evil Seed" heirloom variety (which we grew out in the form of starter plants and handed out to friends and associates this year). Now -- everyone gets to experience the nastiest tomato on the face of this Earth.

What will Mother Nature gift us with this year? Well now -- that's half the fun. Patience Bill Bird. Patience. Time will tell...