"The tomato is so accommodating in flavour that it lends itself to all styles of dishes, and is equally delicious in them all. On the continent it is in common use, but the Americans appreciate it even more highly than the French, and, exhausting all methods of combining new culinary delicacies, eat it in it's raw state, just gathered as a bonne bouche, at an early breakfast. Fresh tomatoes may be cooked in a variety of ways: cut in thick slices and fried in a little butter, they form an excellent addition to a matutinal chop; or a fresh and delicate flavour may be given to the time-honoured rasher at breakfast, by mashing them up with a little butter and seasoning, and simmering them over the fire for a few minutes until thoroughly hot through..."
Our Wartime Kitchen Garden -The Plants We Grow and How We Cook Them (1917) by Tom Jerrold
A slightly late start this year owing to not having the greenhouse put together until April, but some fruits are now beginning to turn orange. There is a lot to learn about growing under glass, a lot of things that I'll do differently next year. Fewer plants and more space around them (25 are crowded in there, probably 16-18 at most next year), careful pollination and better support. It was so simple when I first grew them back in Canada. Plant out on Victoria Day, stake them and water occasionally and by September we'd be enjoying a matutinal toasted tomato and crispy bacon sandwich. I never encountered blight, magnesium deficiency, dry set (I thought that it was brilliant that the fruit was staggering it's development until it dawned on me that those tiny ovaries are never going to swell) or blossom end rot. The greenhouse should protect against the blight which has snuffed out the crop 4 out of the past 5 years but -whew!- the watering (twice a day), pruning and tying. I had no idea how quickly they would grow in here, taller than I've ever seen them, taller than me. I climbed the ladder and pinched out the apical shoots once they got to be massed and tangled in the roof spine. But, fingers (and legs) crossed we'll get to eat some of this year's crop.