Last year, we grew tomatoes for the first time. And we did so with our characteristic enthusiasm, lack of knowledge and ignoring of instructions. So inside our raised bed we planted out radishes and beetroot, chard and kale, tenderstem broccoli and Brussels sprouts – and one very busy row of tomatoes.
We didn’t let this lack of real estate hold us back, oh no. We really went to town with the tomato seedlings. Crammed ’em in. ‘You should pinch those out,’ my father-in-law, a seasoned gardener, said more than once, with a hint of panic in his voice. We did not heed his advice. And that’s how last year, we ended up frantically googling ‘green tomato recipes’ to cope with the absolute glut of unripened tomatoes that were falling off our unsupported, overcrowded, chaotic vines. We made green tomato chutney, green tomato marmalade and pickled green tomatoes like our lives depended on it.
Fat, ripe tomatoes are sliced thinly and sit on a crisp pastry base painted with a good layer of Dijon mustard
This year, we have approached the whole thing with a little more pragmatism.
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