Saving Summer: The Story of Our Heart Tomatoes
The Brine Times
Saving Summer: The Story of Our Heart Tomatoes
September always feels a little bittersweet to me.
Summer is my favorite season, and while everyone else may be getting excited about sweaters and pumpkin spice, I'm usually still hanging on to every last warm, sunny day I can get.
And in our house, one of the best ways to hold onto summer is with tomatoes.
Randy and I both love to garden, but there's one tomato in our garden that's more special than all the others.
We call them our Heart tomatoes.
And their story started long before our garden did.
The Heart of the Family
The seeds for our Heart tomatoes were passed down from Randy's grandfather, who we called Pop-Pop.
Every year, we grow them.
And every year, we carefully save the seeds so we can grow them again the following summer.
Randy's grandparents are no longer with us, which makes this little tradition mean even more.
Pop-Pop and Grandma really were the heart of their family.
They both loved to cook—and they were spectacular at it.
Their home was the kind of place where everyone gathered. Family around the pool. People coming and going. Something growing in the garden. Something delicious being made in the kitchen.
There was always a greenhouse filled with seedlings (and Pop-Pop's beloved cactus collection), and their side garden was overflowing with vegetables and flowers.
But what they grew wasn't just for them.
When the garden produced more than the family could use, they'd put the extras out on a table for neighbors to take, along with a donation jar for the local fire department.
Pop-Pop had been the Fire Chief, and both he and Grandma were deeply involved in their community.
They were generous.
Hardworking.
Charitable.
Kind.
And from everything I was lucky enough to witness after inheriting them as my grandparents-in-law, they were also best friends.
They laughed together. They worked together. They welcomed people into their home together.
They showed us what a lasting partnership could look like.
Grandma had a saying she lived by:
"Don't sweat the small stuff."
Pretty good advice for gardening, cooking, marriage... and probably just about everything else.
Randy's Memories of the Garden
When I asked Randy what he remembered most about those summers, it wasn't a particular recipe or even a particular harvest.
It was the feeling of being in the garden with Pop-Pop.
He remembers being out there together, pulling weeds and working in the soil, surrounded by the smells of the vegetable garden on a warm summer day.
And then, when the work was done, they'd head inside, wash up, and make tomato sandwiches to eat out on the back patio.
Nothing fancy.
Fresh garden tomatoes. White bread. Mayo. Salt and pepper.
Maybe that's why a tomato sandwich still tastes like summer to us.
And while Randy and Pop-Pop were working outside, you could pretty much count on Grandma being in the kitchen.
By lunchtime there would be a whole spread waiting—tomatoes from the garden, cucumber salad, and whatever else happened to be coming out of the ground that week.
Garden to table wasn't a trend.
It was simply how they lived.
They grew food, cooked food, shared food, and gathered their family around it.
And when Randy remembers those summers now, it's not just the taste of those tomatoes he remembers.
It's the smell of the garden.
Working beside his grandfather.
Grandma cooking in the kitchen.
And sitting on the patio afterward, eating the simplest tomato sandwich imaginable.
Those are the kinds of memories you don't realize you're making at the time.
Years later, they become the traditions you want to hold onto.
Growing a Memory
There's something really special about planting a seed that came from someone you loved.
Every spring, those tiny Heart tomato seeds go into the soil again.
We water them.
Watch the seedlings emerge.
Move them into the garden.
And eventually, there they are again—big, beautiful, meaty tomatoes that have been growing in this family for generations.
Maybe that's one of the things I love most about gardening.
You don't just grow food.
Sometimes you grow memories.
Having traditions like this makes it feel as though the people we miss are still part of our summers.
And every year when those Heart tomatoes begin to ripen, a little piece of Pop-Pop and Grandma's garden is growing right alongside ours.
Let's Talk Tomato Sandwiches
So now you understand why we're serious about tomato sandwiches around here.
It's not just a sandwich.
For Randy, it's a little taste of those summer afternoons with Pop-Pop.
That said, I realize the tomato sandwich can be controversial.
There seem to be two kinds of people in this world:
People who understand the tomato sandwich...
And people who absolutely do not.
We're firmly in the first camp.
And please don't overcomplicate it.
A thick slice of a tomato that was just picked from the garden.
Your favorite white bread.
Mayo.
Salt.
Pepper.
Perfection.
And for perhaps the only time you'll ever hear Backyard Brine say this:
Please, no pickles on this sandwich.
Some things should simply be left alone.
Summer Sunday Sauce
Heart tomatoes aren't just special because of their history.
They're also really good tomatoes.
They're large, meaty, incredibly versatile, and wonderful for cooking—which makes them perfect for a pot of summer Sunday sauce.
There's something about making sauce from tomatoes you've grown yourself that just hits differently.
From garden...
to kitchen...
to a pot simmering on the stove...
to everyone gathered around the table.
It brings the whole story full circle.
How We Save a Little Summer for Winter
Of course, tomato season doesn't last nearly long enough.
So when the garden starts producing faster than we can possibly eat them, we freeze our tomatoes.
And here's our favorite trick:
We freeze them whole.
Wash and dry your tomatoes, place them on a sheet pan, and flash-freeze them. Once they're frozen solid, transfer them into freezer bags.
That's it.
Then, in the middle of winter, pull out however many you need for soups, sauces, stews, or whatever is cooking.
As they begin to thaw, the skins slip right off.
No blanching. No peeling an entire summer's worth of tomatoes at once.
Just beautiful garden tomatoes waiting in the freezer until you need them.
There's something pretty wonderful about making dinner on a cold winter night with tomatoes that were growing in your backyard during the warm days of summer.
Relish the Facts
Saving seeds from your favorite tomatoes doesn't just save you a trip to the garden center next spring.
When seeds are passed from one generation to another, they can carry something much more valuable than the plant itself.
A story.
A tradition.
A connection to the people who grew them before you.
Our Heart tomatoes are proof of that.
What's Cookin' in the Backyard?
This month, honestly?
Tomatoes. All the tomatoes.
Tomato sandwiches.
Summer Sunday sauce.
Fresh tomatoes sliced alongside dinner with nothing more than a little salt and pepper.
And as September winds down, we're filling the freezer with the extras so we'll still have a little taste of the garden waiting for us this winter.
That's one of our favorite things about cooking seasonally.
You enjoy something like crazy while it's here...
And then you find a way to save just a little for later.
A Backyard Note
We started saving Heart tomato seeds because we wanted to grow those wonderful tomatoes again the next summer.
But somewhere along the way, I think we realized we were saving something else, too.
A tradition.
A family story.
The smell of a vegetable garden on a warm summer day.
A greenhouse full of seedlings.
A bountiful side garden.
A table of vegetables and flowers left out for neighbors.
Family gathered around a pool.
Tomato sandwiches on the back patio.
And two people who worked hard, gave generously, laughed often, and built a home where everyone wanted to gather.
Maybe it's fitting that the tomatoes are called Hearts.
Because every summer when we plant those seeds, Grandma and Pop-Pop get to be part of our garden again.
And someday, those seeds will be planted by someone else.
That's the beautiful thing about traditions.
If you take care of them...
they keep growing.