Summer is almost over. Or maybe it’s just begun. Temperatures are expected to go back down again. Or was that back up? Who can tell anymore.
Every year in the garden is new and different, even if just because of the weather. This is why I can never wrap my head around the old timers who do things by clockwork by exactly the same methods each year. How do they account for varying weather patterns? How do they account for climate change?
Today’s unremarkable tomato harvest of mostly unripe fruit.
A friend called yesterday, concerned about his pumpkins. The vines are long and lush, reaching up to the top of the bean trellis and beyond. But the fruit? There are none. My neighbour asks about her decorative gourds every morning. Will she get any this year? In my own garden it’s the tomatoes that are suffering. Well, just the indeterminates. The determinate and dwarf varieties produced just fine. In fact, most of them are done already. It’s the big vining indeterminates that I worry about. I grew a few Charlie Brown tomato plants this year; heat-dependant varieties grew no more than a foot tall, made a valiant attempt to reproduce by way of a single, sad fruit, and then stopped. Others are surprisingly lush and laden with fruit. It’s just that the dang things won’t ripen. They sit and sit and sit. I think they’re on some kind of meditative retreat, or something. I used to tromp out hopefully each morning with a bowl to collect the day’s abundance. Now I go empty-handed since I’m lucky to return with even a handful of tomatoes. The slugs, which have been plentiful in the cool, wet weather got to some of the low hanging fruit before they even had a chance. Now it’s earwigs that I’ve been finding halfway up the plants where they make little holes in the still green fruit. As the pierced fruit ripens they come under attack by flies or rot right on the vine. Delightful.
People have been asking me what to do and I’m afraid that I really do not have any feel good answers. Zen-like acceptance is an approach worth considering. There are certain mood-altering crops that may help get you there, but I suspect that they too have suffered without the heat. One of my well worn garden mantras is, You win some, you lose some. I can try to heat up the soil by laying down dark fabrics or plastic. I suppose, were I particularly desperate, I could attempt to generate nighttime warmth by covering the plants, but that seems plain nuts in the summer months. As a mere mortal, I lack magical super powers to make more sun or stop the torrential downpours that pummelled the garden earlier in the season. I’ve resigned to accept that the tomatoes just aren’t going to have their year.
My shiso monster. The large, recycled water bottle cloche is for scale.
But HOPE! There’s still some time left so I’ll try to be patient and hope that I get enough ripe fruit to put up a decent batch of sauce and a few jars of homemade ketchup. I’m surveying the vines diligently and harvesting fruit before they ripen. What I mean is picking the fruit that is showing some colour and bringing it indoors where it has a chance to ripen away from the earwigs and whatnot. The fruit that starts to go before its time is tossed into the oven and roasted with a little olive oil and salt. Even the greenest tomatoes taste good this way. Everything does! And I’ll be damned if my hard work is going to go to waste.
The plus side, if there is one, is that other crops have flourished. I had fresh lettuce and peas way past their time. We have been able to cut large bowlfuls of arugula (the wild type, not rocket) throughout July and August and that should only improve into September. Herbs: we have them. Only cilantro went to seed, but I suspect that some of those seeds should start to sprout another crop soon. Anything leafy and green is lush, plentiful, and shows no signs of stopping. My beans are languishing behind because they were shaded out by the never-ending peas, but they’re catching up quickly. The shiso (Perilla frutescens) grew as tall as my chest, shading out the zucchini, and while no one outside of the restaurant business needs that much shiso, well… it’s a marvel to behold.
I just wish I had not gone and planted mostly okra and black eyed peas–they like it hot hot hot and it has been not not not. You never know what you are going to get in the midAtlantic summer–for every three or four scorchers there is a wimpy summer. It makes me so appreciative of the people who do this for a living, and I have never grown enough that I can skip the weekly farmer’s market.
It definitely makes me appreciate those you grow vegetables and other things for a living!
And yet here in Ottawa I’m overloaded with ripe tomatoes.
My ‘Sweet Millions’ are ripening just fast enough for us to keep up with them at the moment. But I have four powdery-mildewed zucchini plants with nothing but male flowers, when they do flower. Glad to hear it isn’t just me.
Have you considered selling the shiso to area restaurants? I know of a gardener that sells Vietnamese basil, coriander and mint to local restaurants; it’s a nice side business.
I’m having the same problem! Almost a dozen tomato plants laden with green green green fruit, even here in Utah where it’s supposed to get hot every summer. I’ve only been able to harvest small varieties.
I’m gardening in S.E. Michigan and I have so many cucumbers I’m going to run out of people to give them to. My eggplant, planted near the cucumbers are going gangbusters. However, my tomatoes are doing nothing…….loaded with fruit, but green as can be.
Well here in NE Iowa, we finally got some warm weather that pushed the tomatoes over the edge to start ripening just this week. None of mine are early varieties, and since we just moved and are just starting the gardens, only 6 tomato plants and 7 pepper plants (various types.) The first ripe was an Amish paste, second a 1lb 3oz Brandywine (picked before completely ripe to encourage more.) Then a handful of San Marzano and a Black Brandywine. Tons of green ones….Fortunately peppers don’t *have* to be ripe to eat them…
Don’t you people make green tomato chutney? One of the all time best thing to do with green tomatoes? OK I appreciate that there’s only so much chutney you can eat, although I can eat heaps.
Also once the pests start getting at my plants I pull the whole plant out and hang it somewhere dry and airy, like under my carport, and let them ripen there.
Just some suggestions from downunder where tomato season will shortly begin.
I’m glad that I’m not alone in a horrible tomato year, but that isn’t a positive thing at all. My determinates are barely ripening – I’ve eaten maybe four measly little cherry tomatoes! It’s not that there are no tomatoes on the plants – there are tons, they are just green. And I had an unusually hot but not too dry summer which is what is baffling to me. I know I’ve complained about this exact thing in your comments before…
I’m going to need to resort to covering my tomatoes when the temperatures threaten to dip down in the hopes that maybe the indeterminates will ripen a little before coming indoors. It’s so disappointing, but you’re absolutely right – you win some, you lose some. Sigh.
Here in Boston, we seem to be about a month behind last year, if not more. I grow in containers and have harvested just a couple of large tomatoes so far; my plants have set a bunch of fruits, finally, and I hope it stays warm enough for them to reach maturity. If not, I’ll definitely try your roasted green tomato tip!
Best of luck to my fellow gardeners this weird summer. I have a feeling we’ll all have to get pretty flexible and creative in years to come, as the weather gets increasingly unpredictable.
It’s been a terrible year for tomatoes in my garden, too, in Southern Connecticut. Last year by the end of July I had monster plants, taller than me, that just kept producing and producing – we ate so many tomatoes we almost got sick of them. This year, I’ve barely harvested two tomatoes, and I don’t think the fruit that’s still on the plants will have time to ripen before frost.
The kale, on the other hand, has had a banner year, and we’ve been eating it in everything. Go figure…
How do you feel about cutting the roots to force the fruit to ripen? It works, but are we cutting ourselves short in the process?