Smell: Tomato and Basil

On my daily visit to my vegetable and herb garden on the deck, I make sure the plants have enough water and are healthy and vigorous. As I pass by the plants, I run my fingers through the leaves. The smell of summer is on my fingertips.

I planted determinate tomato plants because of limited space and somewhat limited season. I don’t want to end up with a bunch of green tomatoes at the end of the season. I put tomato starts out after Memorial Day and I can pick the last ripe tomato mid- to late September. So I have a 90 to 120 day growing season. The ripe fruit we do not eat in summer, I freeze and add to chili and pasta sauces all winter.

NOTE: Since I use this space as my garden journal, I note lessons learned and things to do differently next season. Next year, I need to use tomato cages to improve air flow and help give the fruit more sunlight.

For some, the smell of coconut brings memories of summer days at the beach. As a gardener, the smell of tomatoes is the smell of summer. After a hot, sweaty, and dirty morning weeding and watering the garden, I reward myself with a lunch of sliced tomatoes topped with a basil leaf.

I only grow basil in the summer. I do not grow basil indoors. The indoor soil and air temperatures are not warm enough and we do not get enough sun. I sow seeds outdoors after Memorial Day. I have enough basil leaves to make my first pesto by the end of July. Pruning the tops of basil creates a more bushy plant. I mix basil leaves and olive oil in a food processor and freeze. I add the frozen basil to sauces all winter. In late summer, I let the plants flower to give bees end-of-season food.

At the end of a summer day, I sit on the deck and breathe in the smell of tomato and basil plants growing next to me. Dinner may include a caprese salad or pasta with pesto sauce. The taste is a seasonal treat but the smell evokes memories.