Garden Reflections: 2026

The tomatoes are still blooming and we haven’t had a frost yet, but I think now that it’s November I can call the 2026 gardening season basically over. How’d it go? What did I learn?

Goal: Grow a shitton of tomatoes and can them.
Status: Absolute success

Erik makes bread every week. This is a valuable addition to the family foodstock. Also, it turns out “loaf of bread” is great for things like breakfast (toast!) and lunch (sandwiches!) but it’s kind of hard to make a compelling dinner in February that’s quick and bread-based. Soup is great, but most soups are pretty labor-intensive. I tried to make various stuff-on-toast happen, but Erik remained skeptical.

Last winter, I bought some cartons of tomato soup from Costco, and realized of course! Grilled cheese and tomato soup!! Wonderful!!! And I can make a quick-n-easy tomato soup from a can of tomatoes. And my first mother in law taught me to can tomatoes.
A plan quickly took form.

In my previous life, I had san marzano tomatoes every year and they went gangbusters. I could easily pick 100+ fruits on the right day. I’d tried san marzanos a few times in my current garden, but they were always deeply underwhelming. They’d put on a few fruits, but not enough to make the effort worth it.

I did research, and found something that seemed a little more disease resistant; something more likely to be successful in the very active ecosystem of my potager: Ten fingers of Naples. Also Amish Paste, which i’d bought and planted a seedling of the year before and it died before I could get any fruits.

Both established well. Ten Fingers was prolific through high summer, trailing off as the season cooled. Amish Paste took longer to get going, but is still putting on fruits the size of my fist with beautiful thick flesh. Flavor-wise, I haven’t bothered to make a comparison. I can a mélange of whatever needs preserving. I have made note of the ones with a higher percentage of Black Krim and Cherokee Purple, though.

While I didn’t get one big flush of a gross of tomatoes, I ultimately put up about 2 dozen pints over a handful of canning sessions. Now, I’ll count this a true success if all those jars are empty by this time next year.

“Tomasins” was a weird little side quest on the tomato preservation project. Last year we made sheet pan tomato sauce with whatever was ripe, then put it through a food mill for texture. And when we cracked it open in the winter, it was *unbearably sweet* because of the quantity of cherry tomatoes. But also, cherry tomatoes are *prolific*, and I didn’t just want them to breed fruit flies on my counter. So I started halving them and drying them. Tiny, extra-sweet sun dried tomatoes. Again, this is only *really* a success if we subsequently use them, but this is a genuine improvement over the previous status quo.

Goal: Take seed starting to the next level
Status: Overall success, with lessons learned


I’d previously told Erik that if I ever started tomatoes and peppers, I should have an intervention. I was Too Far Gone. I have stopped issuing those ultimatums, because I have realized I will cross every one.

The past couple of years, I’d start some herbs indoors. I didn’t have a ton of space, so I kept things minimalist. Some clip gooseneck lights from Amazon. Seed starting mix from Lowe’s. A couple dozen seedlings, *maybe*. And that was fine for basil and dill! I didn’t have to pay $3 a seedling, and I could have enough to truly have an abundance.

But if i had specific goals for my tomatoes, I would need to be more intentional about varieties. So i upgraded: new lights, heat mats, more trays, the whole nine yards. Made my own seed starting mix from bought components to save money. And I started all these seeds:

Tomatoes:
Cherokee Purple
Black Krim
Brandywine
Japanese Black Trifele
Sweet Apertif
Sungold
Isis Candy
10 Fingers of Naples
Amish Paste

Peppers:
Golden Marcono
Pimento (with a goal of homemade paprika, more on this later)
Pepperoncini
Jalapeno
King of the North (bell pepper suited to my climate

Random:
Basil (Emerald Towers, Genovese — Emerald towers I’d had great success with the thai basil version, and I wanted to try the more traditional one.)
Patio Baby Eggplant
Tomatillos
Some fancy zinnia

What worked? What didn’t?


Some of those tomatoes did amazing!! The Sungolds and 10 fingers were strong. I had germination rates so high that I ended up with more potted-up seedlings than I had original seed cells. Some were potted up to half-gallons by the time they went into the ground, and I was pinching off flowers. At the other end of the spectrum, my potato leaf varieties (japanese black trifele and brandywine) failed utterly. It turns out those kinds of tomatoes tend to be much more susceptible to over-watering and fungus and such. I managed a recitation to a few stunted, withered seedlings, but they never produced fruit. Isis Candy produced just one delicate seedling — I don’t think i ultimately got any fruit, either. In the middle, Amish Paste only produced a couple seedlings, and while the fruits are spectacular, they came late and were fewer than hoped.

Cherokee purple and black krim were solid performers, as always. Juicy, flavorful fresh tomatoes. This is why I garden. Erik and I went to KC for my birthday weekend, and at least two of the restaurants we went to had tomato features. I joked “This is correct, actually. Tomatoes are wildly underrated two months of the year, and wildly overrated ten months of the year.”

At the neighborhood plant exchange, a neighbor brought a friend, who was an avid gardner. The friend bemoaned she’d been looking everywhere for Cherokee Purple seedlings but no one had them! She was absolutely astonished when I handed her a healthy seedling and told her “no! It’s free! that’s the point of the exchange!!” She left a tin packed with seed packets that dated back, in some cases, to the late 20th century. (The plant exchange this year was great. More on that later, I hope.)

The Eggplant and Tomatillo were fine. Tomatillos tend to be pretty robust. I don’t know if I’ll have them again. They are *so* sprawling, and as of now we don’t make good use of the fruit. But my neighbor who gives me eggs loves salsa verde, so in part I grow tomatillos so I can return his egg cartons with a dozen tomatillos tucked in the cavities. Erik put up a few pints of salsa verde; I think whether or not tomatillos come back next year depends on whether or not we crack into those.

I chose the Patio Baby Eggplant variety very intentionally. I never want a big fuck-off eggplant. I *would* like a few pieces of eggplant to add variety in with a vegetable mélange throughout the summer. Something that made many small eggplants seemed like the perfect variety! Low germination rate, with only 2 of six surviving. As plants, I underestimated how huge the tomatillo would get, so they got kind of outcompeted. Yet, I still did get maybe a dozen or so eggplants off the pair over the summer: one at a time, sliced, marinated in balsamic vinaigrette, and then used as pizza topping. Exactly what I was looking for!

Goal: Audition more peppers for the greenhouse! Make paprika?
Status: Progress!

Peppers are a slightly different project than tomatoes. I have the little greenhouse. Last winter I successfully over-wintered a productive little lunchbox, and so this year I was in sweet little peppers quite early, and pretty prolifically. (Like the eggplants, excellent for Garden Veggie pizzas!) So my goal with peppers isn’t to plant some seedlings for this year’s harvest. I’m auditioning long-term members of my crew. Jalapeno and Pepperoncini excepted. Those are just “grow these, get one next year” plants.

The Golden Marconi, only one seedling survived, and then it got outcompeted by the tomatillo. It has survived, so it’s potted up, will get babied over the winter in the greenhouse, and then try again next year. I don’t even remember what this pepper is supposed to be like.

I wanted Pimento so that I could make homemade paprika — I’d always understood it to be dried and ground pimento. But apparently while that’s not incorrect, paprika is often made with hotter or more exotic peppers. That said, our dried ground pimento is a delicious, sweet, umami flavor and I look forward to using it this winter!

Pimento ultimately had two successful plants. I transplanted the better one into the greenhouse, and hope it will continue well next year.

King of the North, I actually came to the decision I don’t need bell peppers. I have lunchbox peppers, i have pimentos… something that grows one or two honkin bell peppers a year just isn’t that useful to me. So he’s currently standing tall and proud in the garden. In fact, I think he might be putting another goddamned pepper on, but he will succumb to frost.

I won’t start Pepperoncini or Jalapeno from seed again. They’re ubiquitous. We’ll just pick one up at a plant sale or farmer’s market. But they were successful seedlings! I gave a lot away and still had plenty! And they produced prolifically! I picked dozens of peppers every other week. Erik made pints of pickled peppers and hot sauce.

Basil was also very successful. I have a new kitchen window basil, and a potted patio basil for over the summer is now greenhouse basil. And then a half-dozen or so other plants. I made one batch of pesto to freeze, but didn’t go as hard on this as I could/should have.

Back to starting seeds…
The greenhouse and potting bench created a wonderful hardening off zone. They, along with the house, create a little enclosed courtyard with the fence on the 4th side. Protected from most wind. South-facing so gets wonderful sun. Plenty of infrastructure to ensure good water, etc. So I developed a rhythm:
– Seeds in tiny pods
– Once they have a couple true leaves, up into the smallest pots (3″, maybe?)
– Then up to 6″ when ready. At that point, move out to the greenhouse.
– Within the greenhouse, move outside on fine days, keep inside on windy or chilled days.
– Spend more and more time outside.
– Eventually last frost has passed, stuff can get planted.

Wild success. At one point, there was a hailstorm, and my plants were all out on the potting bench. I as the first few hailstones fell, I ran out to the greenhouse, grabbed a tray, and shuttled it the six feet from the potting bench to the greenhouse. The hail was already coming faster and harder, and it HURT. In the greenhouse i looked around for something to use as protection, and found an old tupperware collander I use to sift soil. So I put that on my head as a makeshift helmet and shuttled the rest of the trays of seedlings inside. Then i had the weird realization I was essentially trapped there until this mad hailstorm past. But I saved all my babies.

And then i had lots of seedlings! I was able to prime the table at the plant exchange. Give them away to friends. A++

The zinnia, it was also nice to have some fancy zinnias. Will continue to do.

Seed starting bummers and mistakes:
I’d intended to start Dill from seed, but then time got away from me, and I never got it done. I saw stuff saying it was OK to direct sow, but that was basically a failure. I got tiiiiny little seedlings that would live briefly and die. Perhaps in a less competitive garden than mine.

Same with cilantro, and celery, and leeks, and lemongrass, and chamomile…. I had dreams, but my eyes were bigger than my stomach.

Then there were the things that i was confident in, and felt I’d had repeated success, and could rely on: Pumpkins, Beans, Cukes, potatoes

Squash? Hah! I picked four (4) squash, from a variety that volunteered, apparently a cross of seminole pumpkin and something else. But the rest of my pumpkins were violently attacked by the worst squash bug infestation I’ve ever seen! Even summer squash didn’t escape! I got maybe 1 or 2 zephyr. And I planted zucchini 3 times and it never grew past 2 true leaves. Absolutely the worst squash year I’ve ever had. It was, honestly, humbling, because I’ve generally had at least one kind of squash per year do very well. Next year I want to commit to a preventative BT(?) injection.

Beans? It’s a good thing I don’t rely on these to feed my family. I got some. I planted fewer than in years past. Didn’t meaningfully have a dried bean harvest.

Potatoes? I planted seed potatoes held back from last year, and then … well, it turns out the burrowing rodent infestation from the herb garden last year is becoming a thriving civilization, and they are grateful for my contributions to their larder. I planted a full bed — like 3×6 — of purple potatoes b/c Erik loves weird purple foods. We got one (1) I could serve him. found many, many half-gnawed ones, though!

A recurring success i *did* manage to repeat this year was my garlic! 3 or so seasons ago, I bought some garlic. I planted it out. I got a tiny little thumbtip of a bulb of garlic. Maybe 3. But then the next spring, I started seeing little bundles of “green onion” looking things pop up! Discovered they were overlooked bulbs of garlic, planted out the cloves in early spring. harvest what I can when the greens die back. Inevitably miss a few bulbs. Repeat. I feel like I now have a low-effort recursive garlic process, which I appreciate.

Goal: Grow cucumbers, make pickles
Success: Hubris.

I had a goal of making pickles. Erik hadn’t historically been very successful with making pickles from homegrown cukes, and I’d had *great* success with a green tomato relish the end of the 2025 season, so I thought “i’ll grow cukes and make pickles! It cannot be that hard!”

The words of a fool! There are so many kinds of pickles! And somehow none of them claim to be shelf-stable and good to eat for more than a few weeks. But?? Pickles??? The point of them is to last through the cold season?

I made a few pints of attempted spears. Erik tried several experiments. We are not that excited to try any of them, given past years’ mushy messes.

Greens like lettuce? Ironically in the year everyone was growing their own, I didn’t even try! I wanted to take a year off, after years of disappointing bitter bolting stuff. Sure, I *can* grow lettuce, but i can buy better from the store with less work.

Experiment: Sweet potatoes
Success: Concept Proved, willing to repeat
I’d always believed we had too short a season for sweet potatoes, but my friend Sophia has good success, and I found a variety (Beauregard) that’s supposed to be suited to more Northern climates. They are… fine? I got some. I didn’t have curing setups for them, so I don’t know if they will be any good. I’m not sure if I’ll do them again.

Long term Investments
This year I also made good on a plan that’s been in place since the very first draft of the potager, made early 2023: The asparagus bed. I’d always had it drawn out, I knew where it would go… but we had an idealized version of building a good retaining wall, and year by year passed, and now here I am, four years in, no asparagus. And every year I delay, I’m still 5 years from asparagus. So I bought some. Was the wall in? Of course not! But now i had to deal with it. So Erik and I built a little shallow retaining wall/raised bed situation, like we had for the rest of the north edge of the property, and I was able to plant some crowns. Maybe half put up some fronds, and at least one seems happy and established now! We’ll see who comes back next year.

As another investment in the future, next year: I’m going to budget the money for a pretty big investment: good landscape underlayment and limestone chips, to do up all the walks in something that will be more weed-proof, and get more stable and established over time.

Now that I’ve decided this is the house I’m going to die in, it changes my whole relationship to the idea of time and investment. Someday I’m going to be 70, and less stable on my feet. But if I put in stable, accessible paths now, I can garden for more of my future years.

And Yet the weeds endure.
Grassy weeds continue to be a defining problem of the garden. Last year I put down some landscape cloth and woodchips, and that did a great job suppressing weeds! This year we expanded the setup, but I guess there’s just too much dirt in the woodchips, and by the end of summer, the paths were unnavigable. That’s part of why I want to invest in the improved paths, so I at least retain access to more of the garden; it will be easier to keep up with!

This year I did have one significant advance in my weed management! As i planted out beds, I’d mulch with straw, which significantly helped keep weeds at bay! (Though also affected my success rate on direct sowing.) It was also a great feeling to look out at the garden and see the parts that were straw-covered; it was a visual indicator of all the work I’ve done.

In terms of weed control, Next year I want to take it farther and put down cardboard and just cut a hole. Everything I can do to push back weeds a little bit is helpful!

This barely scratches the surface of all the THINGS I THINK AND KNOW about the garden, but for now this is where the train of thought terminates. I feel like to make this a proper journal entry I must wrap it all up in a conclusion, but if i hold myself to that standard, I simply never post anything.

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