Tomatoes in Containers, part 2

Tomato season has barely begun, but I have a good feeling about the 2011 AAS winning hybrids, ‘Terenzo’ and ‘Lizzano’.  Time will tell whether Terenzo will grab the  “My Favorite Container Tomato” title from ‘Husky Cherry’. The new tumblers are literally a breed apart from the stocky upright soldier that won my admittedly limited trial of 2009. 

2011 AAS winner 'Terenzo'

Terrenzo’s relaxed limbs that have already exceeded the 20-inch width described in the AAS literature splay from all sides of the container. Its fruits are large for a cherry, and, so far, borne near the center of the pot. Although they can’t touch ‘Sungold’ for taste (what cherry tomato can?) they’re a more than adequate prelude to the season. 

'Husky Cherry' on July 3

I’ll revisit the two (Husky Cherry and Terenzo) in September to see which delivers the most. But perhaps there’s no point in choosing a favorite. There’s a place in the garden for both the upright soldier that perseveres even in the heat and humidity of a Pennsylvania summer and the prone and precocious charmer.  Success, happily, has countless faces.

Growing Potatoes in a Pot

I don’t have a lot of space in my garden, and I especially don't have space for plants that don’t show well. The tops of potatoes have to die in order for French fries to be born, I know that … but I just don’t want to have to watch. So this summer I got a humongous “smart pot,” which was actually designed for tree growers, filled it about a third with a soil/compost mix, and stuck it a hidden (but sunny) corner of my patio. My friends at Wood Prairie Farm recommended ‘Elba’ seed potatoes for a good yield. I placed about 8 on top of the soil, added more compost and a layer of straw and waited. They were healthy right from the start. Every couple of weeks I added more compost and straw until the pot was filled to the top. If it hadn’t rained non-stop all summer long I would have had to water. I’m not complaining. Really. So the vines got long and stringy and every time I checked they were still green. Last week they were still alive, though not a pretty sight, and I decided I had waited long enough for them to die. So I nudged them along to their destiny, otherwise known as my kitchen, by delicately eliminating the alive parts. I hope someone will do something similar for me if I hang on too long after I lose my functionality.

And just look! What a smart pot. 

Hottest Pepper in the World

In my backyard in Emmaus grows a plant bearing about four dozen Bhut Jalokias. A combined 50 million Scoville units of heat are trapped in this little crop of peppers, which are the hottest in the world! I’d call that a lifetime supply of HOT. Clearly there are those who attach great value to homegrown fire—I infer this from the popularity of the Youtube videos that feature to all appearances sane young men (nearly always men) who boldly pop a pepper whole into their mouths, munch, and swallow. A strange sort of suspense ensues, where the viewer watches in anticipation of a horrific outcome—will he fall thrashing on the ground, or, worse, vomit? I have not done an exhaustive survey of this video genre but did watch as one (apparently) civilized young man with a clipped accent took off his glasses. Later in the 10-minute video, he put them back on. This was the height of the action. Oh there were beads of sweat, and his speech was halted at times but he remained amazingly calm under fire. I ascribe the viewers’ high regard for these videos to admiration for those who can withstand extreme self-torture and still keep their cool. And I admit, I was bizarrely enthralled by the man’s composure.

Personally, I have no use for the issue of this plant, planted purely out of curiosity, and I feel a little bad about that. There’s a serious amount of capsaicin in the 50 or so fruits on my potted plant that could be put to use to kill prostate cancer cells, relieve pain, stop evildoers in their tracks, or (and this is my favorite) repel elephants! But it just doesn't work for my purposes—a mere whisper of Bhut would overwhelm a huge bowl of gazpacho. So I walk right by the potent peppers, harvest my tender lettuces and tomatoes, and then compile that sweetest of treats, a BLT (with pesto) picked, sliced, and eaten all within a quarter hour. Capsaicin releases endorphins, I know. But I prefer stumbling onto bliss as basil, tomato, and bacon juices mingle and drip, and I sop up the red-green dribbles on my plate with the toasted corners of the layered feast.

I suppose I could make a pretty Bhut ristra, hang it in my kitchen, and watch it slowly shrivel. I wonder if the fabled Bhut euphoria would permeate the air.

Success! Tomatoes in Containers!

Husky Cherry, the winner!

We all have our personal challenges. On my list are calmly navigating the NY subway system, remembering names of people (plants I have no problem with), and growing tasty tomatoes in containers. What’s the big deal, subway savvy gardeners may wonder. But I’ve always had a sneaking suspicion that gardeners who only have a rooftop to grow on just might forget how a real tomato tastes. My halfhearted attempts have gone like this: plants thrive until mid-August; a daily watering gets skipped; the lanky plants wilt; tomatoes end up tasting like February. This year, I resolved, I’ll get serious! I searched the catalogues for petite toms: Florida Basket, Smarty, Vilma, Maskotka, Gold Nugget, Heartland, Polbig, Husky Cherry. I scanned gardening experts’ websites for growing tips. Big containers, plentiful fertilizer, and lots and lots of water, they counsel (duh). I purchased container mixes and concocted my own—compost and peat moss with kelp meal and worm castings, and in some cases soil.

The results:

1. Organic Mechanics peat free potting mix plus kelp meal was a clear winner through early August. Plants thrived and produced, outgrowing the competition by several inches. But wait … by the third week in August, the Smarty plant in my own mix (½ pro-mix [peat, vermiculite, perlite], ¼ compost, ¼ soil, 4C worm castings, plus kelp meal) was just as tall and greener, supporting my hunch that tomatoes like the real stuff. Both mixes produced BTSB (better than store bought) cherry tomatoes.

2. The sturdiest and best-looking varieties were Husky Cherry and Heartland. Heartland tomatoes are big enough to slice, but growing them in grow bags like I did is probably not the best plan. Drying out caused some blossom end rot.

Maskotka was an impressive producer for a foot-high plant, but weak-looking.

If I were to recommend just one container tomato, Husky Cherry would be it.

So there you have it. Now I can go back to moving my tomatoes around the yard and skirting them with flowers. But if I ever do find myself without a plot to plant in, I will fill the bottom half of the container with my plus-soil mix to sustain the adults, the top half with Organic Mechanics to give my puppies a fast start. I also relearned a design lesson, first learned with impatiens and trumpet vine, that I have no excuse for forgetting.

Red-orange (Husky cherry tomatoes) and magenta (mini-petunias) do not make a pleasing pair.

My Favorite Container

This is my favorite container of the year.

I popped these leftovers from the annual plant sale at Morven into a big pot in May, expecting big bold Dragon Wings begonia to engulf little India Frills coleus and overpower Purple Heart (Setcreasea). But instead they mingled in a model of harmonious cooperation. Frills found the gaps and filled them with touchable texture. Heart wiggled its way to the sun to prove that the shine of flash only brightens when juxtaposed with the seriousness of strength. 

I admire the gracious way the different interests coexist in this pot of limited resources. Such a contrast to our warring world, where attempts to share and compromise are met with shrieking mobs of protesters who shout out and shut down the cooperative spirit, causing tender frills to vanish in the shadows and purple hearts to fight for their life source. I will picture this sweet triumvirate as a model for living. 

Until it dies.