All Gone

The tomatoes are gone.  Out of respect, Things I get to do today will include observing a moment of silence and reflection for their magnificent presence this past summer and fall.











Here is the photo documentation of the last two, before they were sliced in half and put on the top of our Salmon Salad for dinner last night.

Picked green when the weather turned cold several months ago,
these two plucky little tomatoes were able to produce color and flavor
by December 13.  Good work, Jaune Flamme'

Until next summer:  Thanks for the delicious memories, the extravagant flavors, and all the sensuous, warm orbs gathered in the afternoon sun.  I love you.

Crazy Kraut

Most of the time I'm half crazy.  I'm also half German and don't know which half is crazy at the moment.  Ever since being bitten by the Kefir (fermented milk) bug, I'll try krauting anything/everything.

Food processor did this for me

Fall gardens produce lots of Things I get to do today--way more than any regular "today" can handle.  But then you already knew that.  Just because one whole bed of tomatoes has the flavor equal to sticking your tongue out into the wind doesn't mean they can just be lobbed over the fence to the chickens.  They are tomatoes, after all.  So I pulled up all the plants, harvested 25 pounds or so of green tomatoes that I made into kraut.  First time for everything, right?   The cookbook said you could use any vegetable.

Used a plastic bag with water to hold veggies under the brine.
Clever, sure to fit, but didn't weight the kraut enough.

Keeping the veggies under the brine is the most important thing in krauting.  Inexperience found me forgetting to measure the crock to see if the hold-down plate would fit.  What if it wedged in so tight I couldn't pull it out?

With the weight-plate in a plastic bag,  it could be
tested for size and pulled free when it was time
to check the krauting process.

Now the truly crazy part:  I could just sit down in the middle of the kitchen floor with a jar of this tomato kraut and a fork and be the happiest person on the block.

Crock, brine, and tomatoes with plate to hold them down.
A jar of juice stands guard and holds everything under
the brine.

Half gone already.  

Chicken Tomatoes

My hens don't lay tomatoes.  They lay just the regular yellow-yoke and clear-white eggs.  The yokes are actually orange because they eat so much green grass, but that's another story.

We had our first real frosty night on Halloween.  Costumes on the skimpy side had blue people inside no matter what the theme of the outfit.  It seems to happen that way every year.

Sad looking tomatoes gone over the hill

 Mini candy bars and Halloween aside, the frost means that I'm late in taking care of the tomato vines and the remaining red, cracked, orange, pale-yellow and green tomatoes.  So my helpers in the hen pen are thrilled about the Things I get to do today.  As I clean up the beds and make a collection of tomatoes that may ripen in the house, I'm also filling a bucket with all the others for the sweet-singing gals.   The best treat for the sweeties in the feather outfits is "chicken tomatoes."

Trick-or-treaters who showed up at my place.

Cozy, stunning costume with a pink chicken inside

Chicken Candy