The Day My Garden Gets a Late Summer Report Card

Hello there, gals and guys, it's mid-August in southwest Connecticut. Two weeks ago the garden was popping with red tomatoes, but as I walk through the plots, I can see the garden in its final ballyhoo. Tomatoes ripen, some so ripe they have dropped on the ground, and the plants appear to be losing green and going gold. Some gardeners are clearing out their plots, leaving tomato vines. 

My 2018 garden plot is a grand and fun experiment, with many highs and many lows. Creating the blog to chronicle my success is a high, but the results in the garden fall short. This week I give my garden a mid-year report card. I discover I am a tough grader. 

• Overall, B
• Effort, A
• Results, C

April through May, grade B

I start eagerly in April. I set up my plot weeks before anyone even arrives at the garden. I string out oblongs of 16 by 24 inches so I have a plan for the seeds, and I scribble the layout on graph paper. I put in radishes, beets arugula, beets, parsley, carrots and beans. 

By mid-May I harvest my first red globe radishes and crisp green arugula. After that, however, neither comes back. What I do not learn at the appropriate time is the urgency of mixing the old soil with newly composted soil and black-gold before planting, something that a beginner’s gardening program could have solved. By the time I discover how important compost is, green seedlings are already starting to surface in my plot.

• Parsley and radishes, B
• Arugula, C
• Beets, carrots, beans, F

Lessons learned from this period in my garden: 

• Only after I lay out the string plot and plant the first seeds do I learn that I should have turned over my garden with black-gold soil before planting.   
• A mentoring program for new community gardeners would be valuable. Otherwise, first-year gardeners fly by the seat of their pants. A mentor would underscore the necessity of using composted soil before planting.

May through end-July, grade C

From mid-May through early June, I plant the vegetables I want. I add four tomato seedlings to my plot and find two other cherry tomatoes growing as volunteers. I add six bell pepper plants and one poblano, which yield fruit quickly, then stop. My cucumbers blossom and produce three pickle-size cucumbers, then stop. My bush beans start out strong, then get overshadowed and stop. My four patty-pan squashes blossom beautifully, but yield nothing, nada, zilch. Meanwhile, a nearby plot overflows with patty-pans. As for the carrots, the fronds consume too much space and the carrots that I test are anemic and chemical tasting, despite being non-GMO organic seeds. I lack the patience for carrots, I suspect.

• Tomatoes, A
• Peppers and basil, B
• Cucumbers, D
• Carrots and patty-pan squash, F

Lessons learned from this period in my community garden: 

• Two of six tomato plants are full size tomatoes. Of the full tomatoes, one variety yields gnarled, mutant fruits and the other yields perfectly round fruit. I will exchange cherries next year for full size tomatoes. 
• The tomato plants become a Hydra, with vines and branches growing in all directions and encircling and overshadowing beans and peppers. 

First half of August, grade C

The most conspicuous aspect of August 2018 is rain — torrential downpours and late-afternoon storms. The gardens are soppy and messy, and the vegetables take poorly to rain and clouds. I head to the garden at least every other day, returning with fresh basil and tomatoes both big and small. Cherry tomatoes are tart, and their skin start to split. The full-size tomatoes are delicious, and I bring home more than a dozen. I want more. 

I stare at the garden plot, wondering what I can do differently. I yank out carrot fronds, replant arugula and radishes, and try a few bean plants, the last of which quickly succumb to insects. My last visit two days ago suggests that the full tomatoes are nearing their end. Whether the green fruit will ripen remains uncertain.

Lessons learned from this period in my community garden: 

• Reconfigure the garden so the vegetables -- in my case, peppers and beans -- do not get overshadowed by the tomatoes.  
• Swap out cherry tomatoes and bring in more full-size tomatoes.

Community spirit experience, grade B

Community spirit is a big reason to join a community garden. Everyone I meet in the garden is invariably kind, but I meet comparatively few people over five months, despite nearly ninety neighboring plots. Community service hours, visiting horticulturists and potluck dinners help to get people talking, but only if they happen frequently and with greater involvement. 

A couple ideas come to mind to increase community spirit:

• Schedule (bi)weekly drop-in sessions between new and experienced gardeners to analyze progress during the season. 
• Pull together small mentoring teams to meet regularly throughout the season to jump-start successes and increase camaraderie.
• Share vegetables and herbs among gardeners. Yes, many gardeners give vegetables to food banks, but I am more interested in food swaps with other gardeners to taste new vegetables and learn what works.
• Think about a community spirit ambassador to experiment with the ideas.   

Final comments

• I am looking forward to my 2019 community garden plan. Besides tomatoes, I plan to plant peppers, herbs, radishes and arugula. Of the vegetables that got an F grade, I need to identify which ones I want (cucumbers, yes, carrots, no) and what else I should try (zucchini, eggplant).   
• What should I be planting now for fall or spring? I hear about garlic, leek, onion and scallion. Ideas?

Fellow community gardeners, how do you grade your 2018 community garden? What vegetables got top grades? What do you wish you did differently? Share your best tactics or lessons learned in the comments section.

Ciao for now, Diane Tunick Morello

The Glory Days of Tomatoes Arrive!

OK, I fess up. Since I signed up to cultivate a community garden plot at Greenwich Community Gardens, I focused on tomatoes -- big, small, yellow, red, ripe, unripe. At last the tomatoes came in, and I am doing a happy dance. My husband and I bite into tomato-stacked BLTs. We savor fresh tomato salads with garlic, salt, basil and onions (he adds bread to his to make panzanella). And today I make a salad of my fresh-grown tomato and scallion for breakfast, starting out my day perfectly.

I decide to make something special with my dozens of cherry tomatoes. I hunt in my recipe folder for a cherry tomato tart that I found in People magazine in late March. I squirreled away the recipe back then, and today I dig in to make the recipe.
 

I ripen dozens of cherry tomatoes in paper bags on the counter, hand-select the brightest cherries, pack them into a pie shell, cover them with parmesan and egg concoction, then bake at 375 degrees, adding another 4-5 minutes under the broiler to brown the cheese and tomatoes. The tart is delicious, the roasted cherries bursting with flavor and juice! Next time, I will forgo the crust and instead make a crustless quiche filled with cherry tomatoes, ample cheese and a side of asparagus.

My garden is overflowing with small and big tomatoes, and I go in search of help. My great-niece Ceci — wearing a Girls Rule T-shirt — answers my call for a super-hero helper. With her four-year-old enthusiasm, she carries the bag to collect the vegetables, acts as a spotter for the ripening cherry tomatoes and carefully twists off the big tomatoes. She then takes charge of watering the roots and tomatoes so the garden stays healthy. As we walk through the garden, looking at the other beds, she eagerly introduces herself to new people she meets, reeling off her first name and her last name. Her visit and willingness to be my helper give me naches -- pride and joy, for those of you who want to learn Yiddish. I'll invite her to pitch in again before her pre-school starts. 



Before I leave the garden, I take stock again of the vegetables. The tomatoes are bountiful, and the basil is getting big. On the other hand, my seven pepper trees are unimpressive, producing only four peppers since I planted them. Same with my cucumber plant, which produces only three pickle-size cukes. And my long-awaited patty-pan squash plants blossom lavishly, but yield no squash. Curses!

I keep on, however. Based on Alan Gorkin's visit to the community garden two weeks ago, I plant a series of late summer vegetables -- Tavera beans, Blue Lake bush beans, radishes and arugula. I also keep planting scallions rooted at home, and today I plant a rooted fennel. We'll see if they can tolerate the remaining summer heat and grow out before our first frost.

Community gardeners: 

• What do you make with your tomatoes? 

• How do you take advantage of your bounty? 

• What other vegetables grow abundantly? 

• What will you do differently next year?

A reminder: This blog gets picked up locally in Connecticut, gets shared with friends and family through Facebook and Google+ and gets retweeted on the Twitter feed of NYC Community Gardens. Join the conversation! -- Diane Tunick Morello