Can I have your recipe for fried green tomatoes? I will need it, because soon we are going to try to pick the green tomatoes we think are zebras, and when they (inevitably) turn out not to be, we will have to use them up some way.
I am finding summer a little bit alarming, actually. I assume after a few years you get used to it? The constant fear, the way your grape vine grows a foot EVERY SINGLE DAY, the produce heaped on the kitchen counter, the way your food processor is always covered in pesto?
If you mistakenly pick green tomatoes that should be red, put them in a dish with an apple on a window sill, they'll ripen off the bush just as well as on...
Popping in to give you another option of how to do fried green tomatoes. (which, by the way, are DELICIOUS. I would plant a tomato plant just for the joys of the green tomatoes, if I had any yard at all.)
The way my family has always done them is to slice them, dip them in flour, and then fry them in lots of butter. The dampness of the tomatoes means the flour sticks to the tomatoes, and then when they get fried they get a lovely golden-brown. Then add salt and pepper and devour while still hot.
My tomatoes are also a mass this year, because the climbing rose they used to use for support in their climb up the side of the house was cut back for painting.
For basil: pesto. pesto. pesto. Super simple to make, freezes well, makes for an ultra quick and tasty meal in the winter. When your basil starts to flower, it's going to bolt and lose most of the lovely leaves, so time to pesto-ize it then.
Actually, you don't want to pinch back tomato plants -- the next generation of tomatoes comes from the new runners, so if you want production all summer you need to let them grow. Just plant less and give them a sturdier place to climb.
True! Although I get the feeling that this is like importing an exotic animal to eat an exotic plant: we'll end up with a worse problem than when we started.
(There's a whole separate pumpkin update in the works. The pumpkin did not go gently into that bright sun.)
I read your warnings about zucchini far too late. My two plants have more or less taken over the garden. My tomatoes too are obviously related to triffids. But at least I'll get a good crop of both. *G*
See, that has been the problem all along: I get warnings far too late. There needs to be a Garden Warnings website, where you can go and learn all of this BEFORE you put the plants in the ground.
I send you best wishes to survive your zucchini and tomato attack. Strength and courage may see you through.
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I am finding summer a little bit alarming, actually. I assume after a few years you get used to it? The constant fear, the way your grape vine grows a foot EVERY SINGLE DAY, the produce heaped on the kitchen counter, the way your food processor is always covered in pesto?
*shivers*
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The way my family has always done them is to slice them, dip them in flour, and then fry them in lots of butter. The dampness of the tomatoes means the flour sticks to the tomatoes, and then when they get fried they get a lovely golden-brown. Then add salt and pepper and devour while still hot.
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For basil: pesto. pesto. pesto. Super simple to make, freezes well, makes for an ultra quick and tasty meal in the winter. When your basil starts to flower, it's going to bolt and lose most of the lovely leaves, so time to pesto-ize it then.
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Next year, I am pinching back my tomato plants. They will stay SMALL and TAME. (Possibly that falls under the heading of Famous Last Words.)
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(There's a whole separate pumpkin update in the works. The pumpkin did not go gently into that bright sun.)
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Also, perfect icon is perfect.
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I send you best wishes to survive your zucchini and tomato attack. Strength and courage may see you through.
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