I have long contended you're not a true Hoosier unless you plant a tomato plant. I grew up in a home where a patch of the yard was designated for growing tomatoes each summer. We watched the plants like hawks, eagerly awaiting vine-ripe tomatoes. Nothing compares to a warm, sweet, juicy, red tomato!

The first plant I ever set out was a tomato plant-in the tiny yard beside my rental apartment in college. I graduated to several rows of different varieties of tomatoes while in my first and second houses. Then vegetable gardening became a summer project for my family. Big Boy, Better Boy, Early Girl, Beefsteak, Roma, and Cherry tomatoes all got their turn. Although I had grown yellow tomatoes, I didn't do "fancy" varieties until we moved into our current house. Then I experimented with a few specialty heirlooms that were reintroduced thanks to seeds that had been handed down from one family member to another or from earlier introductions by seed companies. I tried the Cherokee Purple and the Black Krim because of their dark, brown/red color. I also gave Brandywine and Yellow Pear varieties a whirl.

As time marched on and each year's growing season came around, I noticed maturing trees were increasingly blocking sun needed for vegetables. To accommodate the changing light pattern in my backyard, I created a raised garden bed in another location. With a quarter acre, I thought the dogs could give up a 16x8 foot area. The new spot for my tomatoes would get the best sun in my yard. I proceeded to put in a dozen plants, caged the seedlings, weeded the plot, and watched for the green tomatoes to ripen.

Alas, a maddening lesson followed. One day I saw the ripest of the green tomatoes scattered around the yard, decorated with teeth marks. My devoted dogs had helped themselves. I countered by putting up a low wire fence. Sadly, later in the summer, the dogs broke over the fence to devour almost all the ripe tomatoes as afternoon snack. From that year on I have resorted to planting three tomato plants in pots on my sunny patio-out of the reach of the dogs.

Through growing tomatoes, I learned to make tomato juice (Joy of Cooking recipe); I learned that six cloves of garlic does not mean six bulbs of garlic thanks to once overdosing garlic in gazpacho; and, I fell in love with basil (pesto or just leaves) on fresh tomato slices.

I have one more tomato story. My Aunt Suzie from Florida used to visit us back in the days when The Sunshine State focused on citrus. While she could get tomatoes there she would always say, "There is nothing like an Indiana tomato. The ones grown in Florida don't taste the same!" We would pick a tomato from the garden, sit on the back step, dash the red orb with salt, bite in, and just let the juices drip down our chins, exclaiming, "Now this is living. This is summer in Indiana!"