The Most Interesting Tomato Plant of the Month! August 2023

Weekend Haul (Partial)

I don't always grow tomato plants. Wait, that's a lie. I've been growing tomato plants every summer for 25-years straight. So, I guess my message to you should be: Grow Tomatoes, My Friends.

The photo to your immediate right? That represents my big weekend activity for the month of August. I'm either collecting ripe tomatoes to make gobs upon gobs of canned tomato sauce (with the bite of Jalapeño peppers I might add), OR I'm throwing them into bags and BEGGING my neighbors to take them.

This is the moment in August where heirloom tomato production is positively off the hook. It's not over yet. There are three times as many green tomatoes on the plants that I harvested from today than those that show the color of absolute peak heirloom ripeness. This means another month, or even two, of heirloom tomato harvests. This is, of course, provided the weather holds out.

Cold nights can screw up an heirloom tomato harvest. The tomatoes still turn a pleasing color of red, pink, yellow, orange or whatever variety you are choosing to grow. But sustained cool temperatures at night can play havoc with that heirloom taste.

Tomato of the Month

The nights, unfortunately, have been getting a bit cooler recently. It's not cold yet. But it's near the end of August, which means cold weather isn't very far off. It hasn't affected the taste yet. Today's serving of the giant pink monsters known as Marianna's Peace (MP) were positively off the hook. But, I do worry.

Although I could easily give the August title to MP, or any one of a number of other heirloom producers, I've saved this singular honor for a new variety that popped up in my garden this year. It's called Bread and Salt. It has been an absolute pleasure to grow and the production has been rather outstanding.

This is not a new variety. Not by any stretch of the imagination. It is somewhat new to the United States. But, in the heart of Mother Russia, this variety is well known. I can only tell you that the seeds for this variety did, in fact, come from Russia. I'm not sure exactly where, since this variety is apparently grown all over the Eastern European continent. I'm not at all surprised.

Bread and Salt

Bread and Salt is what tomato growers call an "oxheart" variety. It is a very large oxheart variety. How big? As big as my big, fat hand. Perhaps even bigger. I was blessed with two Bread and Salt starter plants this year. I gave one away and planted the other. I didn't give it much thought beyond that. I didn't know what to expect out of this variety because it's not one I had been expecting to receive as a starter plant.

This heirloom tomato variety may be called Bread and Salt. But it doesn't taste like that. The name, however, is symbolic. It is a Russian custom to provide gifts of bread and salt, which acts as a symbol of good health and fortune. A Bread and Salt variety grown in any fresh tomato garden is certainly going to bring those very good benefits. This is one good tomato. It's meaty. It's tasty. That zing of tartness is in every bite.

This plant doesn't get very large. Maybe four feet tall? That's the size of many standard determinate varieties. There's nothing wrong with determinate varieties. Any vine-ripened tomato is good eating. But most determinate varieties aren't worth writing home about in my opinion. Bread and Salt is different. My plant started producing in mid July and hasn't stopped. New tomatoes continue to form with every passing week, which means this plant won't play out until Mother Nature puts a stop to all summer garden production with one of her patented cold snaps.

Bread and Salt Tomato

I made sure to include a few ripened Bread and Salt whoppers in my canned tomato sauce creations this year. Bread and Salt tomatoes have found their way into more garden salads than I can count. I give as much of them away as I possibly can, without wearing out my welcome as a "good" neighbor. It's just one of those reliable heirloom varieties that you can count upon in any summer vegetable garden.

I can't make any promises, but it may show up in another future garden at some point. It certainly deserves another chance or two after the show this variety put on this year. I just thought you should know about it. It is, without a doubt, the most interesting tomato plant of the month!

The HAUL

Heirloom Tomato Haul

I haven't been blessed like this for a very long time. Not since my gardens were located in North Natomas and I was using a different blog from a past lifetime. The haul of tomatoes, peppers, onions and basil currently coming out of the Citrus Heights garden is one for the ages.

The photo you see pictured to your right is just one part of it. I picked this for a canning project last weekend. This sink full of ripe heirloom tomatoes came from approximately half of the plants in the garden. I'm still harvesting from the other half that didn't get touched, hoping that my neighbors don't get tired of my never-ending gifts of vine ripened tomatoes.

I've stopped waiting for the 101st Airborne Rat Army to show up. It's nearly September now. In the past two or three years, this garden would have been decimated from top to bottom by now. Every tomato still on the vine would be damaged with large and disgusting chunks in the shape of large, sharp rat teeth. It was impossible to walk down the garden rows, unless you enjoy rats suddenly zipping across your shoes as this walk interruped their non-stop feeding regimen and garden destruction habits. It was really something to experience. Depressing too.

Single Plant Harvest

But the introduction of "The Mango" as my neighbors now call him (they did name him, after all), has meant all the difference in the world. I kept waiting for weeks on end for the 101st Airborne Rat Army to parachute in on any given night and lay claim to the ripening heirloom tomato crop. They never did. Not with The Mango, my tiny orange rescue kitten from the Bradshaw Animal Shelter, now patrolling the garden area.

His presence has resulted in what is pictured above left. That isn't a harvest from my heirloom plants. That's from ONE plant. Plus, that is just the harvest from that ONE plant on the day this picture was taken. I've been pulling tomatoes off this ONE plant for weeks. It's still loaded with tomatoes that are still green at the moment. Which means another monster harvest from this ONE plant is coming soon.

Processing Tomatoes

So, with heirloom tomatoes literally coming out of my ears, it was time to put some old gardening tools to work again. This would result in a project I had not undertaken for nearly a decade. I would turn a sink full of vine-ripened heirloom tomatoes, garden bell peppers and jalapeño peppers, garden grown onions and basil, and turn it into as many jars of spicy tomato sauce as I could get.

This was an all-day job for two people a decade ago. I'm alone now. I wouldn't be all that surprised if this job took me more than a full day. That did happen, but only because I ran out of canning jars and the all important canning jar lids. The lids are the one thing you cannot recycle. Once they've been used, you cannot use them again.

Simmering Sauce

I'm not sure why I chose to hang onto all of the old garden canning equipment when I found myself living alone again. Anyone who has been through this experience, and a lot of us have, will find themselves throwing away a lot of old and unpleasant memories. This I did through the years, but I kept the old water-bath and pressure-canning equipment sitting on a shelf in the garage. It had gathered a fine layer of dirt and dust through all those years of inactivity. But you know what? You can wash the dirt off. You can enjoy life again.

Turning a sink full of heirloom tomatoes and peppers into jars of spicy tomato sauce is a fairly simple task once you've done this a few times. The first step is to wash and core the fruit. It's then cut into chunks and liquified in a food processor. The amounts are then measured and added to a large pot. Once everything is added, you bring the mixture to a boil and let it simmer.

The Payoff

I wanted a thicker sauce this time. So, rather than just one hour of a hard simmer, I kept it going for two. It's useless to keep an air conditioning unit working during a project like this because the heat coming out of the kitchen is fairly intense. Of course I would choose the hottest day of 2022 to take on such a project. That only makes sense. I had forgotten about the kind of heat that comes out of a kitchen when a pressure canning unit is hard at work.

The end result is 13-pints and three quarts of the thickest sauce I've ever created. Do you really think I'm going to consume this much heirloom tomato sauce during the winter? Are you insane? That's what neighbors are for. The same neighborhood children who gifted my orange rescue kitten with the name of "The Mango" will get to enjoy the results of his non-stop garden patrol efforts.

The Mango

If "The Mango" enjoyed tomato sauce he would most certainly get his fair share. After all, he earned it. But, he's more than content with his kitten kibble. The only snack he seems to enjoy is the ocassional bug he hauls in from the backyard. This is one garden assassin who works cheap.