’Tis the season of irony
Isn’t it ironic, don’t you think, how summers just don’t seem the same when you’re older? The sand feels hotter, the surf feels colder, the kids are crankier and there are no holiday romances on the horizon, unless you count the dozens of fresh bums our dog gets to sniff on our morning beach walks. Isn’t it ironic, don’t you think? It’s like ray-ah-ain on a statutory holiday, or sandflies drowning in my organic chardonnay. It’s a hosepipe ban on odd numbered days, and selfish old men who won’t share their crays. It’s a dozen boat trips without a single fish caught, and sausages that don’t taste as good as they ought. It’s stubbed toes, broken jandals and sand in sunscreen, plus black leather car upholstery polished with melted icecream. Isn’t it ironic, don’t you think? It’s gaggles of girls mooning over buff lifeguards, while the oldies prefer to get in a huff playing cards. It’s squeezing your bits into a size 16 wetsuit, with chapped lips, a sunburned snozz and peeling shoulders to boot. It’s a raspberry patch stripped dead clean by blackbirds, and an estuary promenade littered with other dogs’ turds. It’s muggy nights in a tent, everyone drenched with sweat, and a Spotify playlist repeating Alanis Morrisette. Isn’t it ironic, don’t you think? It’s 10 thousand spoons when all you need is a knife (because hubby’s back at work tomorrow, leaving the kids with his wife). It’s a million mosquitoes around your solarpowered light, and a bumper crop of basil while your tomatoes have blight. Ironically, that was a rather longwinded introduction to today’s subject: what to do when your tomato plants turn up their toes in midsummer, be they stricken with fungal spores, mauled by psyllids, sucked barren by green shield beetles or hollowed out by hungry ear worms. The pests can be controlled with eco-friendly insecticides such as Kiwicare’s pyrethrum-based Organic Insect Control, or Success Ultra from Yates, which has beneficial soil bacteria as its active ingredient. Alternate these sprays for better results, and reapply after rain. Always spray at dusk on a dry, still day, when the bees are back in their hives.
However fungicides work best as a preventive remedy rather than a cure, so if your plants are wilting, their stems and foliaged blackened by blight spots, there’s not much you can do to halt their demise, save picking all the fruit, cutting out the blemished bits and getting busy making tomato sauces, chutneys and relish.
My grandmothers – and everyone else’s of that era – always made tomato relish from the last of the Beefsteaks grown by our grandfathers. I suspect our family recipe originally came from the Women’s Division because it’s fairly similar to the classic Edmond’s Cookery Book relish recipe, with one notable exception: my grandmothers, both farmers’ wives with hordes of kids, were far too busy to faff about peeling tomatoes before they went into the preserving pan.
Their basic method requires 2kg of ripe tomatoes and three peeled onions. Roughly chop the tomatoes and onions into a large bowl and sprinkle with 1 tablespoon of salt. Leave to stand in their own brine for a few hours, then drain off all the excess liquid.
In your largest pot, combine the tomatoes and onion with 1 cup malt vinegar and 1 cup sugar. My grandparents all had simple tastes, adding only 1 tablespoon each of dry mustard and curry powder for extra flavour, whereas I like to mix things up with an extra teaspoon each of garlic, chilli and ground coriander.
Bring the relish to the boil and simmer gently, uncovered, for at least 1 hour, stirring regularly to stop it sticking, until the liquid in the relish has reduced. If need be, you can thicken it up by stirring through 1 tablespoon of cornflour dissolved in 1 tablespoon water. Pour into warm jars and seal, then all that’s left to do is stock up on sharp cheddar and crusty ciabatta to serve.
Isn’t it ironic ... a bumper crop of basil while your tomatoes have blight.