Four months after we started our Corona plant nursery using cotton pads and an absurd amount of motivation, hope and dedication, this is it. The first tomato. There are 35+ more waiting to turn red, and some other pots from the same nursery made their way to my son's nursery as a goodbye present and to his Oma's garden in Germany.
This one looks fabulous. It also smelled fabulous. No idea however how it tasted like: after chopping it in half, it appeared something had decided to to grow inside (it did not look like a bug but rather an extension of the plant itself, if this is even possible), so we decided not to try it.
But who cares. It is the result of four months of freestyled dedication and absurd amount of love. As my husband had to say goodbye to his Corona sourdough culture earlier this week (RIP Bread-ley Cooper), I understood how small things became important on the daily basis in the past weeks: we cared about growing things and understanding how these things grew. We learned, we still do learn, and it works.
Sourdough #2 (feel free to suggest a name) has already flooded out its container, and I cannot wait to prepare salads and sauce with the next tomatoes to come.