The Best Way to Grow Tomatoes: With a Hummingbird Helper

"You should make some fried green tomatoes," Catherine suggests as I'm leaving her house. "Grab some tomatoes in the greenhouse, dip them in egg, then cornmeal and fry them. I like mine with soya sauce for dipping." So I took her up on her generous offer. After all, the rains have started here in Vancouver so we are under pressure to start picking tomatoes before early blight sets in. The recipe sounds simple enough, so I don't even do a Google search for the details. I just buy the organic cornmeal and do it. First off, I didn't know how thick to slice the tomatoes, second, which way to slice them and third, I didn't know how much oil to put in the pan. So I tried thicker and thinner slices, one tomato sliced across the width, the other vertically. Peter sampled a bite and shrugged. He always does this when he's not impressed with something. It happens involuntarily and I can pick up even the most subtle of shrugs. It's his "tell". I wasn't too convinced either. The tomatoes seemed tough and the cornmeal didn't feel cooked. I chalk it up as one of my culinary failures.

Later that evening I do my research. It seems there needs to be milk in the batter and at least a half an inch of oil in the pan. So I will give it another try on a later date. In the meantime I heated a couple of leftover slices in the oven this morning and piled smoked salmon on top with tsatskiki, onions and capers. It was delicious. The fried green tomatoes make a good bread substitute. I can imagine making grilled cheese sandwiches this way.

 

Did you know that bumblebees pollinate tomatoes? Tomatoes are new world crops that didn't evolve with honeybees. Our new world bumblebees have the ability to shake the pollen out of the stamen like a salt or pepper shaker. People who have enclosed greenhouses have to hand pollinate the flowers with vibrators, which must feel pretty silly. Then farmers got the bright idea to farm bumblebees, placing artificial nests in the greenhouses. This may have seemed like a good idea at the time, but they imported eastern bumblebees to western Canada. These bumblebees not only got sick, but many escaped and started bullying the indigenous western bumble bees out of their nests.

 

There are two families of plants that benefit from buzz pollination. The first is the nightshade family (Solanaceae) which includes tomatoes, eggplant, ground cherries, chile peppers, potatoes, chayote, and goji berries (Lycium barbarum). The second family is the heather family (Ericaceae), including red huckleberry (Vaccinium parvifolium), cranberries and blueberries. Bumblebees are better pollinators than honeybees for watermelon and cucumber, although there are squash bees that evolved to pollinator the cucurbits. They are about the size of honeybees and the males have an endearing habit of bedding down in small groups inside pumpkin flowers.

 

At the Saltspring Centre for Yoga there is a greenhouse hosting a wide range of colours and shapes of tomatoes. The door is wide open so that bumblebees can come in and shake the stamens. Furthermore, there is a resident hummingbird that perches on the wires suspending the tomato vines. She eats up all the tiny bugs that would otherwise be munching on the tomatoes. The back of the greenhouse is planted with hummingbird flowers: nasturtiums and beautiful purple morning glories that twine up among the tomato vines and will provide extra nectar for the bumblebees once the tomatoes have finished flowering. Surely this is one of the best ways to grow tomatoes in a northern climate. I have read in gardening forums that hummers will sometimes perch on tomato cages, so I bought a bright red one to put in my raised bed even when I'm not growing tomatoes.

 

Ever since I heard the story of bumble bees and greenhouses, I have been intrigued by the question: what is the best way to grow tomatoes here in British Columbia? Tomatoes are tricky here because we tend not to get enough dry sunny weather for them. Sustained late summer rains often means the tomatoes get blight, which means you've got to toss everything out and it's risky to grow tomatoes in that soil again. They are the most high-maintenance veggie I'm willing to grow in pots in our back yard and this year I didn't plant any because I knew I'd be too busy to attend to their needs.

Yesterday my friend Lori made me a salad with tomatoes, cukes, feta and olives. Having forgotten spoons we ate the ripe tomatoes with our fingers on a picnic table at UBC Farm. At least I know the best ways to eat tomatoes.

Links for more information about the problems of using commercially raised bumble bees in greenhouses:

http://www.plosone.org/article/info%3Adoi%2F10.1371%2Fjournal.pone.0002771
http://www.ballpublishing.com/insidegrower/CurrentNewsletter.aspx

Cypress Community Garden Pollinators

Madame Beespeaker had a marvelous day off today doing some of her favorite things: eating lunch at Aphrodite's Organic Delights, touring gardens and thrift shopping. Yes! These lovely bees are enjoying the vanilla scented Joe Pye Weed in the Cypress Community Garden. Note the odd morphology of these blossoms. I am not seeing much pollen here. I like capturing more than one bee on a plant. Bees seem to like to have space around them when they forage, much like me at the supermarket checkout. If someone gets in my personal bubble, I need to take a deep breath and  try to shift to  get away from the tailgater. The other day it was hot, I had a migraine and I snapped: "Could you please give me some space?"  I mean the woman was acting like I wasn't there and it was really bugging me.

I see bees bump one another out of their personal bubble, even bees of their own ilk. The larger bees often win, but not always. Sometimes the plant is so delectable that they tolerate the nearness of other bees. Kind of like me, when I'm tucking in to Aphrodite's delectable vegan cheesecake. I am very focused. Everything else in my range of vision melts away as I immerse myself in the cheesecake and nothing but the cheesecake and my iced chai. Does Joe Pye weed taste like vanilla cheesecake to a bee?

It was overcast today and I saw a few yellow leaves fall here and there. At first I would think it was a butterfly, but my heart sank as I saw it was a yellow leaf or two fluttering to the shadows on the ground.  I have had migraines the last two days with the humidity and heat, so today was a welcome relief. I can see into the future on days like this, and I spent the day imagining dresses inspired by bee and hummingbird plants. I was quickly brought to earth by the Chinese Canadian lady who owns the second hand store where I was perusing dresses. "That will never fit you," she said bluntly, "Maybe a friend, but not you, lady." Thump. Sound of a dreamer's dreams hitting the floor.

Can't you imagine a gown inspired by brown-eyed Susans and sneezeweed?

These gardens along the railway tracks are fascinating. Bordered by a hedgerow of blackberry they form pollinator corridors in our city. Linked up with gardens on bike lanes, they would form a strong network of passages for birds and insects. Wouldn't it be wonderful to turn all the disused rail lines into pollinator corridors across Canada? Told you I was in a dreamin' mood.

By the time I saw this skipper sipping nectar from a cosmos I was ready to head to Beaucoup Bakery for an iced tea. There should be tea rooms at regular intervals along the national pollinator pathways. Make mine jasmine green tea with a hint of rose and a fat brioche stuffed with hazelnut cream.

As I saw a honeybee attempt to sip nectar from one of these hardy fuschias it occurred to me that this plant is almost like a bee plant wearing a humming bird plant--purple underskirt for the bee, and red cape for the hummers, but those long stamens are definitely bird-sized. I wonder if these get robbed for nectar or if the double structure prevents that from happening. Watch your fuschias and tell me what you see!

Linden Swoon

 It was a stressful morning. I had to leave the house by nine, but everything was against me. I shook the dust out of my beekeeping suit, but I couldn't find one of my gloves. Bags and pots overturned. I put my bus tickets and all my bras in the wash. (Don't ask.) I couldn't find anything in the fridge to being for lunch and change for the bus was MIA. Finally, I just chucked some ice and cold tap water in a bottle and headed to a coffee shop to get a sandwich. (Yes, dear reader, it was closed.) However on the way there I was waylaid by a sight that I figured was a good excuse to be late for a hive inspection. The bees were swooning.

 I came upon two cute little shaggy dogs on the sidewalk surrounded by bees. "What's this?" I wondered? Then I looked at the linden blossoms that had fallen from the trees and dried in drifts of golden yellow. It was swarming with bumble bees. Everywhere I looked bees were frantically sifting through the blossoms. It was a frenzy. The dog owner was sitting on the nearby apartment stoop. "The bees have been doing that for two days," he said.

 It seemed as though the hot muggy weather had released the essential oils in the blossoms and it was driving them around the bend. One bee was frantically sticking her tongue in a blossom that had not yet dried up. I snapped these photos and then I hopped on the number three bus down the hill. I was eager to share my story with the other bee nerds I was meeting.

After the hive inspection I came home by way of the linden trees. There were no frenzied bees, but dotted here and there was the occasional dead bumble bee and one honey bee. I looked at the leaves on the trees and then I realized these were the silver lindens, Tilia Tomentosa, that are reported to be toxic to bees. The bottom branches had been pruned up so high that I had failed to distinguish them from the other lindens. I had been watching a silver linden around the corner for days, looking for dead bees, but everything there was hunky dory and the foraging honey bees and bumble bees were very much alive.

 So the mystery deepens . . . . What is it about these lindens that causes some bees to dance to their death? Are the older bees the ones who succumb to a linden swoon?

 If you look at the wings of the dead honeybee you'll see they are quite ragged, so she was probably on her last legs. Did she experience an alternative reality under the influence of the linden blossoms? Was it a beautiful way to die?

Bees Love Vetch

Yesterday I talked to the Moberly Remix summer camp kids about butterfly plants. There are a couple of Buddleja bushes near the entrance to the Community Centre that the Anise Swallowtails are enjoying right now, and I noticed that this vetch is climbing around a couple of plants in the herb garden. Vetch does double duty as a bee and butterfly plant. It is delicate and climbs upward on our snowberry bushes and artichokes without harming the plants. Vetch is also a nitrogen fixer. Honeybees and bumble bees love it!

The Joe Pye weed (see the post below) is also a nectar source for the swallowtail butterfly family.



Check out this snowberry that is fruiting and flowering at the same time--it's such a good bee plant.

This little bee is too bushed to boogie. I took the photo at about 7:30 pm when all good little bees are in bed. He's curled around the leaf of Jupiter's beard.

Bumble Bees Nap in Hollyhocks

 The Seed to Sky Garden Club organized a talk on small trees for gardens so I came early to do an evening bee safari at 6 p.m. Some plants benefit from the backlit glow of the setting sun, especially the aptly named. Mrs. Wilmot's Ghost.

I am taking scads of photos of eryngium spp. these days because it is attracting a diversity of bees. However, since it's so late in the day, many of the little native bees are already in bed for the night.

It was so sweet to see these three bumble bees hunkering down to spend the night on these sun-warmed holly hock leaves.

 The heritage garden looks charming in the evening light.

 Alistair Hesseltine's imposing piece is now complete. It is all about the willow, but there is definitely intensely muscular and it integrates so well into the site, having been made right here.

 I took a stroll down the lavender walk which was full of bumble bees and honeybees catching the last bit of light.

This bee is having its final rest.

Sino-Himalayan Gardener Gerry Gibbons took us on a tour of the garden, hilighting some of the trees that would be small enough to work in a standard city lot. I don't know my trees very well, so I learned about the incredible diversity that is represented at the garden including oak trees that look nothing like other oaks.

A hawk soared right by our group which a keen birder identified as a female Cooper's hawk, adult. Gerry told us that her nest is in his part of the garden. The chicks have fledged, but are still demanding to be fed. On day she brought them a crow and the gardeners cheered. He also showed us a tiny Anna's hummingbird nest. The two babies have fledged, but she will probably use the nest again next year.

"This is an example of the best that you can do with an 18 hole golf course," Gerry said. Ain't it the truth.

A Tale of Two Hydrangeas

 

 I took this photo of a little sweat bee in a yard that contained two kinds of hydrangea bushes. This bush had lacy blossoms in the center of each flower head. Each center is made up of many tiny florets with anthers containing pollen. It was alive with bumble bees scrambling across the blue filaments, and tiny bees foraging for pollen and nectar. The other bush had no visible stamens. It was pretty, but silent, like a statue of a hydrangea.

 So there you have a dramatic illustration of the choice we have in planting our gardens. Do we want to support our bees with pollen-rich plants, or do we want to put our time, money, space, and water into plants that do nothing for our pollinators?

Certainly I am not about to rip up the two hydrangeas that grace the side of our front door. They were here before we were, and I have fond memories of them blooming on the sunny afternoon our son was baptized at the Lutheran Church around the corner. However I would consider planting another lacy climbing hydrangea--if we had the space!

Under the Laburnums

We really should start a tradition of picnics under the laburnums when they are thrumming with bumble bees.

 The bumble bees and honey bees also love these alliums which look like fireworks.

And for the calming version of the alliums, head over to the white garden.

 I like this white version of the perennial cornflower, especially with a side order of honeybees.

 Masterwort is a good bee plant for dreary late spring days.

 This shows the inspired interplanting, integrating the shades of pale green and the burgundy, with a good use of texture.

 There were bumble bees in the red white and blue comfrey.

 The pollen from this false indigo is lighter in color than the lupin pollen. ˙Her suitcases are overflowing!

 This honeybee fits so nicely in the rosemary flowers. Her abdomen in distended with a nectar load.

 

It's bloomin' squid!

 There weren't any bees in this columbine patch, but there were some mining bees hanging around the green mulch nearby.

 You can really see why this is called milk thistle.

Another good choice for your white bee garden. The milk thistles I've grown have always been purple.

Here are my seedlings waited to be potted up.