TomatoMania!

Everyone has their fix, right? We purposely decided to go overboard with tomatoes this year... Just because we can. Kicking the habit of cultivating everything possibly tasty hasn't been easy, but we're not so worried about the addiction. Can you ever have too many brightly colored globes of goodness to eat and share with your friends I ask? Nope! So we're making sure of a summer cornucopia by handing out plants to everyone with a pad of soil and a heartbeat.
Our crop of tomato seedlings' roots were sneaking and creeping out of their seed cubes, telling us it was time to get them into the ground. They were accustomed to the comfy warmth of the grow room, so we reduced the heat night after night, and eventually transitioned them to the garden, still in their cubes. Also, because they'd only experienced relatively low light from the closet's fluorescent tubes, they needed to be gently acclimated to the intense spring sunlight. We slowly moved them out from beneath the eave of the roof a little more each day, 'til they were in full backyard sun. After a little cube time we planted six of the plants directly into garden soil, gave many away, and the rest we potted into 4" pots to grow for future endeavors.
As if we weren't deep enough into tomato mania, we heard of Cal Poly's annual event dedicate to you know what... We were greeted by a maze of rooms and hallways in the hort dept stacked with tall gangly specimens in 1 gallon pots. Their names were Yellow Jelly Bean, Henry's Mortgage Lifter, Silver Fir Tree, Bloody Butcher, Black Cherry, Sweet Chelsea, Tiny Tim. We left with a shopping basket of 10 that will do well through a foggy coastal summer, and others carted off 20 or more. All in all, Poly sold around 8,000 plants. Are you thinking what we're thinking? That's a whole lotta salsa! These new tall guys will dwarf the seedlings we started from seed, so they're going to live against an opposing fence. No need to intimidate the little guys, right?We thought of everyone we could possibly introduce to the fabulous world of homegrown produce, and got them a plant. We pulled out of campus surrounded by a jungle of tomato skunkiness, and high on hopes of a fruitful summer.

Choy To The World

Say what?? Choy, baby... Choy... You know... It's the other white Asian vegetable, and the newest edition to our seed garden. It's the the pork of your veggiepatch, the honkey in your harvest basket, the cracker in your collection. The simple crunch of its stalk will leave you breathless, desperately seeking another bite of cchhrrrrunnnchhhhh and a wild fondess for its mild cabbagy flavor. So where can I meet this Asian wonder, you wonder.

The species has gone through many incarnations and sometimes shapeshifts from plant to plant. Bok choy, Pac choi, and Pac choy, are all spellings for the same leafy vegetable that rocks your stir fry's world. Asians are quite picky about their choy and have preserved certain forms over the years for their distinct features. Some rosesttes are dwarfed and stay low with their wide spoon-shaped leaves , and others get tall, plump, meaty petioles for the ultimate crunch. With titles like Mei Qing choi, Tatsoi, there's no need to resist the asian invasion... Now go get your crunch on...

My Node Or Yours

Was it Shakespeare who first said "A node by any other name would smell as sweet"? And Gertrude Stein who wrote "A node is a node is a node"? Those people knew what they were talking about. Their houses were probably littered with glasses half-filled with water and stuck with cuttings, just like ours is. Because what's more inspiring than a full glass of new growth? Not much? We thought so.
The beautiful thing about plants is just how willingly and dilligently they'll propagate themselves, even from small slices of their original flesh. Plants accumulate their energy in growth points called "nodes," and from there sprout new shoots and leaves. This means that if you're going to pilfer your neighbor's coveted Brown Turkey Fig, it's wise to cut just below a node. From there you can cultivate your prize in a container of water until lengthy white roots form. Roots sprouted in water are different from roots that push against the resistance of soil, and are pretty tender. When you translplant them to soil it's good to be gentle with them. And actually, if you're going to propagate, it's better to just stick your cutting in soil. With a plastic pot of earth you can increase the aeration around the roots by adding lots of Pearlite, which cuttings want. We chopped this maple (shown here in two parts) at a low node to encourage it to grow low and bushy. The top part we jabbed into a patch of open ground, watered it in, and wished it good luck.

The "apical meristem" lives atop any green growing thing, and is basically the plant's brain. It regulates the growth pattern of the whole plant, deciding which leaves will grow the biggest, which flowers will bloom first, how tall or compactly to shape itself (think team captain). The meristem or "leader" is easily identified as the tallest point in the plant that isn't a flower. Since flowers are more temporary, and die off more quickly, they can't be the boss. If they happen to be a part of the same stalk as the apical meristem, however, they have a chance of taking the leader out when they kick it. Obviously, being in charge has its risks. Other branches grow at the Alpha Stalk's feet, waiting to take over should anything happen. Just for fun, you can give your plant a lobotomy if you want other branches to vy for first place. Don't be fooled by their pretty leaves; plants are cutthroat, just like the interns on The Apprentice. Everyone wants to be Donald Trump.