My Favorite Tomato

When I was a kid growing up, my dad and mom had a huge vegetable garden. It started out small, but after many years, and the need to feed five growing kids, the garden took on more space and got more prolific with its bounty. We had all kinds of food growing in the garden; things from simple lettuce to huge quantities of tomatoes. The garden was really looked after by all of us (we kids had the task of weeding), and mom and dad organized and then did the canning or freezing of all that grew there. However, for some reason, when I think of that garden, I tend to think of it as my dad’s garden. I have no idea why, except maybe he spent the most time, there, constantly ensuring things were appropriately taken care of; weeded well, watered well, and plants tied up to ensure no rot would occur. He was a master gardener, as defined by many dictionaries, he “was one who exhibits style, skill, ability or other characteristics of gardening” and he did, and well.

My dad was known for his tomatoes, and he would share with many neighbors and friends. It wasn’t unusual to see him out there with a small brown bag collecting veggies for a friend. His tomatoes were what New Jersey tomatoes are known for...BIG, red, fleshy, sweet, and juicy tomatoes! When I moved to Germany, this was one of the things I knew I would miss, but because my dad was who he was, I got my tomatoes via the US Postal Service, neatly packed as if they were fragile pieces of glass. Home never tasted so good! My German neighbors could not believe I got tomatoes mailed to me, until they tasted them, and they, too, fell in love with the taste of them.

With the bad press tomatoes have gotten lately (and rightly so), I have had the chance to think back and remember my dad’s delicious tomatoes. The FDA has proclaimed the Jersey Tomatoes safe to eat, (and salmonella free), but if they had tasted my dad’s tomatoes, they would not only claim them safe, but deliciously irresistible! I have always grown tomatoes in my garden, but I have yet to perfect the perfect tomato, but then I am not a master gardener. I also think it’s more than the tomato I miss. I miss that gardener too.