And just like that … they were gone!
I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned the weather in Ireland before.
We basically have varying types of rain. Soft rain, fat rain, rain that rebounds back off the street at ya and my personal favourite, wet rain.
I am used to seasons appearing somewhere on the rain scale, which is why I’m not used to actual seasonal seasons. France always gives me a shocker of a reminder. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it! They actually have four seasons here. Sometimes it feels like I’m in The Truman Show, and there is a director somewhere calling the shots behind the scenes. Enter sun. Exit sun. Bring on Autumn.
We’re in sun-dimmer season now. The (quite literally) almost unbearable heat of the summer has left us and we’ve been catapulted into an altogether chillier phase. The drop in temperature hasn’t simply crept up on us. It has grabbed us by the shoulders. We have even had snow. For the love of goodness! In October! Which means that this Irish girl is shaking in her boots and overcoat.
Everyone keeps telling me about the extremely harsh winter we’re going to have. This really isn’t helpful to me at this point in time because I know I’m not going to see my sandals until mid-April (and that makes me unhinge slightly).
So I’m sure you won’t mind if I indulge a little and hang onto the last rays of summer by talking about our tomatoes.
Before you think I’ve completely lost the plot – we have only just taken the last of our tomatoes in from the garden. One little wooden box of tomatoes left! And they are the best bloody tomatoes I’ve ever tasted!
While we were busy doing other things (like getting married), our little nuggets of red, yellow, orange and green have been quietly doing their thing.
Back in Spring we subscribed to a local association whose aim is to bring back the varieties of tomatoes that would have been growing in the potagers (vegetables gardens) of France back in the day. It would be similar to Seedsavers but on a smaller local level.
We weren’t too hopeful and decided to increase our chances by throwing plants in wherever we could. We haven’t been too successful with tomatoes in the past. Contrary to popular belief it does rain here in France too and often we have rainfall at the wrong time of the Summer for our little red delights.
Oh yes, we’ve lost some good ones along the way.
Nevertheless, mon homme, set about tending to them with a hope that this year would be different.
However we had incredible heat this Summer and we thought the plants stood no chance, ironically, due to the excess of sun. I always say “we” when I talk about our garden (there I go again – “our” garden!). I use this “we” very loosely. I cannot claim to own green fingers – frankly they are no colour at all – just pale like the rest of me!
We went off to Ireland in August and left the tomatoes to strike out on their own and fend for themselves.
And that’s exactly what they did!
Nobody could have been more surprised than us to return and see that there weren’t casualties left, right and centre. Au contraire! There were more tomatoes than we knew what to do with. Of all shapes and sizes.
And so we have had sweet, juicy, organic, homegrown tomatoes for practically every meal in some form or another since August. Thank you husband!
“One day little one, all of this will be yours!”
This sweetie was called cul de singe, which literally means monkey’s bum! Can’t think why!
I had almost forgotten the sheer delight of eating a tomato that tastes like a tomato! We’ve had them in all guises on our table but my favourite form has simply been a sprinkling of salt and pepper and a lick of olive oil (with maybe a little dollop of the wild garlic pesto we made earlier in Spring).
So this week was all about the final reaping of what was sown. We have made quite a few jars of tomato sauce to keep us going on this sweet buzz during the long winter months, when we’ll no doubt be glad of the sunshine contained within!
And so we’re down to that one little box. One day there were so many and then just like that … they were gone!