Tomatopalooza

This just in.  I harvested 17 pounds of organic, fresh produce from the 1840 Farm gardens yesterday.  I feel proud.  I feel victorious.  I feel exhausted.

This is the time of year that the hours of labor in our gardens finally seem to make sense. That moment when the kitchen counter seems to struggle under the weight of the mother-lode of new produce every day.  Trips to the store to purchase more canning jars are a regular occurrence.  A serial gardener never seems to have enough of them.  Never.  Just ask my husband.

I’ve already confessed my deep-rooted love for the heirloom tomato.  I’ve come clean about the fact that I just might need to start a support group for gardeners who don’t know when to quit when its planting time.  What I haven’t told you is that I’m drowning in tomatoes.

Yesterday I picked over ten pounds of them and I left at least four pounds on the vine that seemed like they could use another day in the sun.  I’ve been giving them away to anyone who sets foot on our property.  Anyone.  Seriously, don’t stop by unless you are prepared to leave with both arms full of tomatoes.  Our neighbor stopped by the other day and complimented me on my tomato garden.  He should have known better.

That being said, I’m still not suffering from tomato fatigue.  I keep expecting to raise my tomato laden fork to my mouth and be less excited about the prospect of eating more tomatoes.  I am happy to say that it hasn’t happened yet.  I am however, struggling to find new ways to utilize my beloved fruit.  So, I’m off to the cookbook shelf to see if I can find something to inspire tonight’s dinner.

Then I have to decide what to do with the four pounds of eggplant I picked.