The Kids Are Alright...

For those of you who are as "Mathematically Challenged" (Dumb as Rocks) as I am -- please answer the following question:

When do three flats containing 72 tomato and pepper starter plants suddenly equal nine flats and 216 tomato and pepper starter plants?

If you answered "second planting," WRONG!

But if you guessed that the wonderful wife that is Venus and I got a little *ahem* "generous" with our seed distribution efforts in those first three flats? DING! You're ready for Alex Trebek.

What do you win if you answered the math question correctly? Let me check my supply of used cat hair -- and I'll get back to you on that. Vanna White -- I'm not.

I thought that Venus and I would be a tad late with our tomato and pepper plant starters this year (we started our seeds on the weekend after the Super Bowl) -- but our local weather has been more than highly unpredictable. It's been downright pathetic.

At this point last year? Venus and I had already received our starter plants courtesy of Farmer Fred Hoffman and half had already been planted. Why did someone as famous as Fred Hoffman "volunteer" to grow starter plants for our North Natomas farm? Does a hearty contribution to the Hoffman Foundation of Fine Scotch begin to answer that question?

But this year -- contribution or no -- the decision was made to strike out on our own. My decision? Oh -- HECK NO! I begged and pleaded on bended knee for another starter plant offering from the Hoffman estate. I even entertained the thought of enlisting the support of the Sacramento branch of Al Qaeda to change Fred's line of thinking -- but alas -- we were on our own.

See? This is what happens. The happy North Natomas gardeners start with three simple trays containing 24 cells each. Two months later? I'm seriously considering knocking out one of the bedroom walls in an attempt to gain more growing space. Heirloom tomatoes make you crazy. Not wives -- tomatoes.

But -- so far -- everything is working. In fact -- I'm more than a little surprised by the results of our plant separation efforts. We didn't do anything fancy mind you. When the time finally came to separate plants -- Venus and I literally tore them out of each cell and then re-planted into new trays. End result? Take a good look. The trays containing the transplants are actually doing BETTER than the trays that contain the original plantings.

How is this happening? Why is this happening? I'm not sure. The jury-rigged -- excuse me -- professional light system setup we're using is just extensive enough to cover three trays. The problem is -- we have nine. Those that are closest to the light source should be doing better.

But they're not. The transplants furthest from the light source have actually grown at a faster rate and look healthier than the starter plants that were not rudely ripped from their homes and transplanted into another tray.

We didn't change our methods much during the transplant process -- a job that we undertook in stages. We used the same "Black Gold" seed starter mix that we used for the first three trays. I continue to fertilize my seedlings with a weak mixture of a liquid organic fertilizer called Omega 2000

So what gives? I'm not sure. For those of you who are visiting the blog for the first time expecting expert advice -- I'm really sorry to tell you that not only are you going to be sorely disappointed -- but you've come to the wrong place. Despite what you may have read recently in your local newspaper -- about the only expertise I have is in the consumption of fine gin that comes from a plastic bottle.

What I can tell you is this: There are 216 tomato, pepper and eggplant starters that are growing in a spare bedroom. Instead of just two varieties of each heirloom tomato starter -- I suddenly find myself with four or five. Instead of one or two varieties of peppers (sweet, hot and VOLCANIC) -- there are six.

I suppose I could plant all 216 starter plants in my backyard. But -- at last check -- I still hadn't gotten around to building raised beds on the roof of our home. Therefore -- yes it's true -- Venus and I will be parting with a great many of our plants when the time comes.

This is provided -- of course -- that I don't kill them all off during the hardening process. What's that? Can that possibly happen? Does gin come in a plastic bottle???

A Spark of Summer...

My deepest apologies for the extended break. No -- I didn't fall off a cliff (fat chance people). It's just been -- you know -- one of those "weeks."

Of course -- the death of my Uncle caught me a little off-guard. Although we all knew that this would happen someday (the man was nearly 92 after all!) -- we weren't really prepared for his passing. Nobody is truly prepared for this type of event. There is no "good time" to leave this Earth.

But then -- when a 41-year old co-worker of mine suddenly passed away some four days later -- well that made things just a little bit tougher. 41-year old men aren't supposed to die of heart attacks. It's just not supposed to happen to people like Will -- who was in better shape than most.

It's just been the type of week that in the big scheme of things -- that if you're five minutes late to work? That's really not a problem. Other problems are a little more serious. There are other things to worry about rather than the clock on the wall.

So -- this posting is a little late. I was going to brag to the world about this wonderful dish to your immediate right -- and then my Uncle died. That was the end of that plan. But the taste of this meal lingers on. And if you're guessing that it just might involve some fresh ingredients from our North Natomas suburban farm -- winner, winner -- chicken dinner!!!

This my fine friends -- is my Spark of Summer. The zest of our North Natomas heirloom tomato and fresh-herb harvest. Yes -- the 2009 tomato growing season is but a distant memory for many now -- but not for us.

We're enjoying the "fruits" of our labor this winter.

The sauce creation above is actually part of a deep-dish pizza recipe that Venus and I have modified somewhat to fit about any sauce need that we have. We found this recipe some years ago in the food section of the Sacoftomatoes Bee -- and the person who contributed this recipe promised it would create a deep dish pizza "just like Zelda's."

Now -- if you've never tried Zelda's before -- where on God's Green Earth have you been? People drive for hours to reach Zelda's front door -- and a taste of that Chicago-style deep-dish pizza-pie. It's the stuff of legend. And -- although Zelda is no longer with us -- the family has managed to keep the place humming. Short and sweet? Zelda's still turns out one mean pizza-pie.

We've made this recipe a couple of times -- and I must admit -- it's a pretty darn good imitation. But -- don't be fooled. NOTHING is like Zelda's. NOTHING.

The sauce is clearly the secret to this pizza recipe -- which is why we modified it to fit other uses. In this case? This wonderful tomato sauce made with canned heirloom tomatoes and canned heirloom tomato sauce right from out backyard went into a pasta recipe that also featured a U-shaped rope of Turkey Kielbasa cut into bite sized chunks.

Now folks -- the finished creation to your left? That's called a dish of heaven. And that's the nice thing about canned heirloom tomatoes. If you think that you lose that special taste of an heirloom when you can it for future uses -- think again. That's the wonderful thing about canning tomatoes from the backyard. They taste like you picked them five minutes ago.

Not to knock our big tomato processors in town -- no -- not at all. I don't turn up my nose at a can of Hunt's Tomato Sauce. Nor do I push away a can of S&W Brand canned tomatoes. They have their uses. BUT -- the stuff in those cans simply cannot compare with a one-quart jar of canned heirloom tomatoes from the backyard -- and a pint of heirloom tomato sauce.

You can tell the moment you pry off the lid of any one-quart or one-pint jar. That marvelous smell of summer ripened tomatoes fills the kitchen air. The vines that produced those wonderful heirlooms are long dead and gone -- but the zest remains.

And that's the real advantage to canning your summer produce. Does it take time? Of course! Will you waste an afternoon? More than one to be sure. Is it worth the time, work, effort and mess? Without a doubt, yes, yes, yes and yes!

But the real "proof in the pudding" so to speak doesn't come until much later. Imagine that you've just arrived home from work on a cold January day. It's not just cold -- it's bitter cold. It's not just bitter cold -- a heavy rain is falling. It's dank. It's dreary. It's depressing.

And then -- all it takes to cure a case of the "Winter Blahs" is a can of fresh heirloom tomatoes from the backyard. That smell is back. That taste returns. Suddenly -- it's not so dank and dreary anymore. It's a garden fresh dinner right in the middle of winter.

Just in case you're interested -- I've put the sauce recipe below. You can mix it with Turkey Kielbasa like we did -- but it works just as well with cut up chicken, tofu (blech!) or no meat at all.

You see -- with this creation -- it's all about "the sauce."

The sauce is good.

Just Like Zelda's Pizza Sauce (or sauce for any pasta meal)

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 tablespoon chopped fresh garlic (we usually crush it -- plus add more)

2 teaspoons chopped fresh basil (you can also used dried basil flakes)

1 teaspoon chopped fresh oregano (you can also use dried oregano flakes)

1/4 teaspoon fennel seeds

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

14 teaspoon red pepper flakes

1 28-ounce can plum tomatoes, coarsely crushed

1 tablespoon dry red wine

1 teaspoon sugar

Directions: In a medium saucepan, heat 2 tablespoons olive oil over medium heat. Add garlic and cook, stirring, for 30 seconds. Add herbs, seeds, salt, black pepper and red pepper flakes and cook, stirring for 30-seconds. Add tomatoes, wine and sugar and bring to a boil. Lower heat and simmer, stirring occassionally, until thickened, 20-30 minutes.

Bills Note: Since Venus and I both like spicy foods? We usually double up on the spice ingredients. And -- if you're forced to open a full bottle of red wine to get the sauce just right -- don't despair! It just gives you something to sip on while the sauce is cooking!