From Red Handed to Green Thumbed

I have a confession to make: When I was a child, my parents told me to eat my vegetables, and I did—right out of my neighbor’s garden.

I think they still wonder why they couldn’t grow radishes back then. Actually their radish crop was pretty good. So were their peas, carrots and green beans.

My current neighbors have nothing to worry about; I haven’t stolen a vegetable in decades. And, I am proud to report that I actually planted my own garden this year.

Well, I planted three tomato plants anyway. I believe in starting small. And if I’m only going to have one vegetable in my garden, it’s going to be tomatoes. Or are tomatoes fruit? If I’m only going to have one fruit in my garden, it’s going to be tomatoes too.

Some people dream of Caribbean cruises. Some dream of George Clooney or Julia Roberts. When I dream, I dream of eating fresh-picked tomatoes year round. I often find myself sniffing grocery store tomatoes in the dead of winter to see if they bear any resemblance to their former selves. They never do.

So this year, I planted my own. I placed my tomato plants in large containers, and I pamper them by moving them to shelter whenever the wind blows too hard or the night is too cold. I speak lovingly to them and yesterday, I introduced them to some role models, a bunch of tomatoes still on the vine that I bought—honest—at the grocery store.

While tomatoes are my favorite, there are many other vegetables I like straight from the garden. And now that I’ve given up raiding the neighbor’s garden, I rely on farmers markets and not-so-subtle hinting to get my hands on them. In other words, when I ask you how your garden is doing, I’m not just making idle conversation.

Fortunately for me, gardeners think big—too big for their own needs. I know a lot of gardeners and few have what I would call small gardens. (Keep in mind that my standard is three tomato plants.) They always seem to wind up with more produce than they can eat, can or allow to rot guilt free. I think it behooves some of us not to garden so that those who do will have someone to help them deal with the fruits (and vegetables) of their labor.

I stand ready to help.

Some of my freeloading friends seem disappointed that the ubiquitous zucchini makes up the majority of garden giveaways. It does seem that even gardeners who don’t like zucchini feel obligated to plant three rows of it every year.

I’m not sure I believe the story, but a woman once told me that in her tiny hometown, residents had to lock their car doors to avoid having their backseat loaded with zucchini when they weren’t looking.

Another woman told me that in response to zucchini abundance, she and her friend created and now compete against each other annually in the Great Zucchini Challenge—an effort to use every zucchini they grow or are given. They make fried zucchini, mashed zucchini, stewed and stuffed zucchini, zucchini brownies, zucchini bread, zucchini cake and so on. Keep in mind the rule is to use every zucchini, not necessarily to eat every dish they use the zucchini in.

I happen to like zucchini—as well as zucchini brownies, zucchini bread and zucchini cake. And just for the record, I don’t lock my car doors.

Dorothy Rosby is the author of several humor books, including I Used to Think I Was Not That Bad and Then I Got to Know Me Better. Contact drosby@rushmore.com