Damn birds

Aggh! The biggest tomato in my garden was pecked to death before it had a chance to become what I wait all year to eat! This is (was) a beautiful example of what Mr. Munson, the man who grows the tomato plants I buy from seed and sells them at the bottom of his driveway, calls a Polish paste tomato. I have been growing them since I moved around the corner from Mr. Munson, who from his stand across the street from the elementary school, supplies most of this area of Southold with the start of their gardens. Paste tomatoes, like plum tomatoes, are mostly flesh with few seeds and less goop around the seeds. The Polish paste — the name was Mr. Munson’s invention — has a pointy end and is sweet, perfect for oven drying or in a sandwich.

This may be the first year I have to net my garden, something the grape growers of the East End have to do every year.

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