If you don’t follow me on Instagram (frangrit), you probably missed the comment-inducing photo of my dining table coated in a layer of ripening plum tomatoes. Yes, covered. Dan’s rough estimations put the tomato count at somewhere between 300 and 400. That is a lot of tomatoes.
The thing is, a hurricane was barreling up the coast. It was imperative that I pick them before they became waterlogged and ravaged by the wind. So, one afternoon I spent a few hours in the tomato beds at the farm, and hauled out two five-gallon buckets full of blushing tomatoes. Farmer Don assured me they’d ripen off the vine — “on your porch” was what he said, and I should be so lucky as to have a porch that sunlight actually reaches (have you seen my backyard?). But they ripened just fine on the table in the sunniest room in the house, and Dan and I were content — somewhat — to eat our dinner on the coffee table in the living room, seated on the floor, with the dog peering hungrily over our shoulders.
Sadly, some of these tomatoes were lost to some spotty rot, but I managed to salvage almost all of them, or cut out the less offensive spots. Then, just like last year, I proceeded to roast, sauce, and can them over a period of two weeks.
Tonight, the weather calls for a frost, so this is probably the very last I’ll see of tomatoes for another ten months. Goodbye, my darlings; I loved you so!