The Fifty-Dollar Tomato

The Fifty-Dollar Tomato

By Brunonia Barry

Okay, so we’re city folk. Or were. But then we bought a house in Salem, MA and it came with a back yard. A big one. The kind of yard that stretches from one street to another, and the kind you have to do something with like actually mowing the grass once in a while, or, failing that, at least trying to grow some grass. So this was our year for landscaping, and we decided to do it ourselves. There was one challenge. While are beautiful big old trees in our back yard, there is no sunlight except on our deck. So we planted hostas and lace cap hydrangeas, tons of them, and, thankfully, they’re all still alive.

But then I had this bright idea.  We should have a kitchen garden, in containers, on our deck. We bought herbs and planted them in window boxes: Basil, sage, rosemary, mint, more basil. We watered. They grew. And everything was fine, until I had another brainstorm: “Let’s grow tomatoes.”

It sounded like a good idea at the time. It would be a container garden. We had some huge pots we could use. We bought heirloom tomato plants. We added fertilizer. They started to grow. We bought wire things to support them. They grew again. We bought bigger wire things to support them. By the end of the summer, the plants were taller than my husband, who is 6’6”.

The plants were strong and healthy, but there were no tomatoes. I take that back. Out of three, seven-foot plants, there were exactly two tomatoes. One of them was hopelessly deformed and rotting from the bottom up. The other, we harvested this morning. It’s a pretty nice tomato. It had better be. When we did our cost-benefit analysis, we figured that one tomato was worth about fifty dollars.  

Now, I make a mean tomato pie. It takes basil (we have a heck of a lot of basil) and chives (have those too) and a ton of tomatoes (which, of course we don’t have). But I was determined to make that pie, so my husband and I set out for the farmer’s market in downtown Salem to buy our lone tomato some companions. Just a quick trip… or so we thought. I was so enthusiastic about the prospect of tomato pie that I hadn’t remembered one important detail. It’s October!

It’s that time of year again in Salem, the Halloween capital of the world. Witches, pirates, goblins and (God help us) anyone sporting bloody body parts rule the road. You can’t get a parking space to save your life. On a normal day in Salem (is there any such a thing, you ask?) our population is about 40,000. On any given day in October, it could be as high as 350,000.

Of course, we needed a parking space right in the middle of things, and, of course that was going to be impossible. Halfway downtown, we realized it would have been easier and faster to walk, but we were already stuck in traffic, surrounded by road raging residents, a few zombies, and a grandmother driving a Mini and wearing a costume that, from my vantage point, looked like the chest of drawers from Beauty and the Beast. She fought us for the one available space on the street, and won.  When she got out of her car, I realized that she was dressed as a grilled cheese sandwich.

We ended up parking half a mile away on the other side of the Common and walking back on Essex Street. The pedestrian walkway starts at the Peabody Essex Museum and is lined with multiple witch shops. It's interesting any time of year, but October adds a dramatic street theater / costume party element. We didn’t see the usual Bridget Bishop re-enactor being dragged through the streets (Bridget was the first of Salem’s accused witches back in 1692, and they reenact her trial several times a day for the tourists). We did see several witches, a proselytizing minister trying to save some souls, and this gentleman:  

As we approached the farmer’s market, we passed an old dog, wandering by, dragging his leash. He was moving so slowly that, at first, I thought it was someone in a dog costume, but no, this was a real dog, and his owner was nowhere to be found.  We have a sixteen-year-old Golden Retriever we treasure, so we’re suckers for an old dog, or a lost dog, or any dog actually, so we had to stop. We looked around for his owner. We waited. Guessing that the dog had come from the Farmer’s Market, we finally led him in that direction. He stopped at every tree along the way.

The market was crowded. We scanned the area. Finally, we spotted a booth that was selling dog biscuits. We figured it was a good place to start. At least they were dog lovers, They’d help figure things out.

They knew the dog immediately. He belonged to one the farmers. He was evidently a great escape artist. As a reward, the woman selling the dog biscuits gave us an assortment of every flavor for our Golden Retriever. The runaway dog would get his biscuits later, so as not to reward his truancy. He didn’t want to have his picture taken. He wasn’t in the mood.

Our good deed done, we did a bit of shopping. We came home with seven pears, six ears of corn, amd a pumpkin. We had become so involved in finding the dog’s owner that we forgot what we had come for, the tomatoes.

We considered going back, but decided against it. The Haunted Happenings Parade was about to start and there was a 5PM ban on street parking. People were already lining the sidewalks. After that, it would be the candlelight vampire hearse tour, followed by a zombie pub crawl . We figure we probably won’t see downtown again until early November.

Do you have any fall traditions in your town? Do you celebrate any Halloween rituals? Have you ever tried to grow your own tomatoes?

Obviously we’re not having tomato pie tonight. I’m looking for a recipe that features corn and pears. Our fifty-dollar tomato will be sliced and served au natural, with just a little olive oil and some of our bumper crop of basil. Our sixteen year old Golden Retriever, who is normally up and begging for any dinner dish we’re preparing, is ignoring our fruit and veggie entrée. He’s in the corner of the kitchen, happily chomping on his biscuits.

 

Comments

[Doc In CA]

Super tall heirloom tomatoes with no fruit: Too much nitrogen in the fertilizer/soil. Did the plants produce many flowers? Were there plenty of bees and such to do the pollinating?

Tomatoes with a rot on the bottom end: That's called "blossom end rot" and is most likely caused by irregular watering or too much watering. Could also be from a lack of calcium, but not likely.

[Reine]

Brunonia, what a sweet laugh this is. This blog makes me so happy . . . and teary. I just want to go home. I want to roll down Essex Street. Look for the ghosts of my flute teacher. And the Tic Toc Café. And Dan A. Donohue's and keep on going toward English and . . . that whole area. I know I had to leave, but now I just want to go back.

[NancyP]

What a happy story! I envy your one tomato, Brunonia. I got zero from two plants.

[Margaret Maron]

Not a good tomato year in our garden either. Too hot and too dry even though we watered. Fortunately, we put up enough last year to get us through till next summer.

[Jeannine Zwoboda]

Love this story. Jeannine

[Karen in Ohio]

Yesterday I picked out the incredibly prolific grape and yellow plum tomato plants in my garden at the farm. Something like 18 pounds of the things, about half of them still green (which I will use for relish and green tomato apple crisp). We also had three or four plants of beefsteak and other slicing 'maters; still a lot of green fruit on the vines, which may or may not ripen yet. We have raised beds that are full sun, all day. I've found that wood ashes make super, organic fertilizer for tomatoes. FYI

It was a great year for basil here, too. I've cut it so many times, and dried, frozen or turned it into pesto, and still it comes, more lush than before.

Halloween is my favorite "holiday", and I love decorating for it and having a spooky party. But not this year. Between my 60th birthday celebration last weekend, and my daughter's wedding next month, who has the money for a party? Not I. But fall in Zinzinnati means Oktoberfest. We have the second largest in the world, after Munich's. I didn't get to go this year, but it's always a grand time, walking around downtown with a giant cup of beer in one hand and a potato pancake in the other. The only scary things are the hefty guys wearing lederhosen.

[Nancy Martin]

We raised our daughters in a small college town which observed many college traditions, indluding the Homecoming Parade. Before our kids were old enough to enjoy it, parade day was a logistical nightmare for the town. But as soon as the girls got old enough to be thrilled by bands and floats and the parade of Irish setters (hey, I'm only reporting) it was big fun. We used to watch from my husband's office window on the second floor--bird's eye view of all the action, including vomiting students, which is of course a big part of Homecoming!

[Storyteller Mary]

Enjoy the $50 tomato! (and better luck next year) My CSA from Terripin Farms had only a couple weeks of ripe tomatoes. Drought since July, so many green tomatoes. She's been scrambling to get enough to fill her commitments, and now an early frost took out the squash and cukes, but we still have corn and greens . . . no starving. I don't think I could handle the uncertainty of farming for a living. I do have one gourd maturing on the vine the squirrels planted, and I got a little bit of basil from the potted plant . . .
I used to go to the VP Fair, now Fair St. Louis, on the 4th of July weekend, but it has grown and I am less crowd-tolerant, so I haven't gone lately. I do like smaller events like the little trick-or-treaters on Main Street St. Charles. I'll be telling stories at Witches' Brew at the Edwardsville Library on 10/30 -- come if you're close!

[Hank Phillippi Ryan]

SO funny! I remember trying to grow vegetables.. I got one measly scraggly carrot, and I was SO happy. (I remember thinking--that THAT, Stop and Shop.)

Beautiful day to day..and we do have dahlias! I'm always so happy to see them in our garden..and then I realize it means summer is over.

Hope you're all having a wonderful weekend--let's all have a tomato in honor of Brunonia!

[lil Gluckstern]

I had a vegetable garden once. I liked eggplant so I planted them. What do you do with twenty eggplants? You know what happens with zucchini-huge in size and number. Of course, this was 40 years ago when we had some kind of normal weather in Pennsylvania. All my tomatoes ripened at the same time. I put up sauce, and my family was ready to sell me. I would love the recipe for tomato pie. Methinks it is google time. Salem sounds wonderful, if a little crowded.

[Reine]

There's something about the North Shore. Any excuse for a parade. I'm trying to remember if the Horribles Parade in Marblehead was a Haloween thing.

I'd like to see a recipe for tomato pie. I've never heard of it before. But it sounds like I should have!

[Karen in Ohio]

Oh, yum. Tomato pie.

Brunonia, hope you try again with your home produce. I've had years like that, when the deer ate everything down to the ground, or the raccoons got every single strawberry. It's worth it to figure it out.

[Harley]

I wanna come live with you, Brunonia. Would that be okay?

[[email protected]]

Please come, Harley.

[[email protected]]

Hi Everyone,

I've been posting responses all day, but they're not making it in. I'm not ignoring you, I'm just having technical difficulties. Sorry. Hopefully, from now on it will get better.

[heather graham]

I've been in Salem for Halloween--I can only imagine!

[svisick]

Now and then and of course that too.

[marie]

What a delightful blog, Brunonia
Thanks so much for sharing.

[lil Gluckstern]

Reine-try googling "tomato pie." I drooled all over my keyboard.

[Reine]

Thanks Lil, I just found a fantastic recipe. I'm drooling now, too!