When people find out I grow most of my own tomatoes through summer, they assume I have a large garden. I don't. I have a south-facing balcony that measures roughly eight feet by four feet — smaller than most people's living room rugs.
Last summer, that balcony produced more cherry tomatoes than my household could get through. We ate them fresh off the plant most evenings. We made sauces. We gave bags of them to neighbors. By the end of August, the question was no longer whether we had enough tomatoes — it was what on earth to do with all of them.
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