Post G23-056: Yes, you can make sun-dried tomatoes in Virginia. Who knew?

 

This is the obvious followup to my just-prior post.

The answers are:

Yes, you can.  All it takes is four or five consecutive good drying days.  After four days, most of the batch was dry enough to be put in a jar and put on the shelf.  A small — but distinctly different — residual will get a fifth day of drying.

The catch is that it’s rare to get a string of good drying days in a Virginia summer.  You ideally need the weather to be consistently sunny, hot (85+ is ideal), breezy, and dry (relative humidity below 60% mid-afternoon).  So you can air-dry, if the weather is right, but you can’t count on being able to air dry, the way they can in a Mediterranean climate.  You can occasionally air-dry.

Achieving leathery versus crispy with open-air drying?  So far, the best I’ve gotten is “leathery”.   And I suspect that’s the limit of open-air drying here in USDA Zone 7, Northern Virginia.  Whether or not “leathery” is shelf-stable, absent further preservation steps, I’m going to find out.  (Near as I can tell, “crispy” keeps for at least a year.)

As a snack, I’ve already gotten the feedback that crispy beats leathery.  So for best end-user value, I’m probably going to stick most of these in my electric dehydrator, for a finishing step to get them all the way to crispy.

Does the low temperature of “sun-dried” tomato production result in a product superior to properly electrically dried tomatoes?  No. For sure, the sun-drieds are processed at a low temperature.  But I think the 135F limit for electrically-dried tomatoes was chosen specifically to avoid degrading the flavor of the finished product.  Bottom line, other than the leathery texture, neither my wife nor I could tell sun-dried from heat-dehydrated tomatoes

Leathery versus still too wet:  Listen to your inner “ick”.  It turned out to be remarkably easy to tell when the tomatoes were dry enough to be called “leathery”.  For some, it was obvious because they were still visibly wet.  For the rest, pick them up, and if the flesh of the tomato still moves when you rub it, it’s still too wet.  I say “ick” because that’s the sensation it gave me.  Like a gummy worm, but less firm.

 


A better rule for cutting tomatoes for drying.

One nice thing about air-drying is that you can cut your tomato slices thicker, and so pack more tomatoes into a given tray area.  (You can’t put really thick slices in a Nesco dryer because the space between the tray surfaces is only about a half an inch.)  In fact, traditional Italian sun-dried tomatoes are literal tomato halves, and so are quite thick in the middle.

For this batch, I aimed for 1/2″ thick slices, versus the 1/4″ slices typically recommended for use in an electric dehydrator.  Some of the slices did not dry fully in four days.  But that wasn’t due to their thickness.

All of my tomato slices that failed the “leathery” test had tomato skin on one side.  And conversely, all the slices with skin on one side failed the “leathery” test at four days.They were either slices from the end of the tomato, or cherry tomatoes that I had simply cut in half.  And I’m pretty sure that makes sense.  The skin is going to be nearly impervious to water. 

I’m far too lazy to skin the tomatoes before drying, so my new rule is to cut very thin (1/4″) slices off the ends, and thicker (1/2″) slices in the middle.  That way, all tomato flesh is at most 1/4″ from a surface through which water may evaporate.  I’m still not sure what I’m going to so for cherry tomatoes.


Summary.

Yes, you most certainly can sun-dry tomatoes in a humid climate. I dried most of a batch of tomatoes to a stable, leathery state in four days.

You need to have a string of good drying days.  The most common rule is that you need considerable time with air temperatures 85F or higher and relative humidity 60% or lower.  Plus sunlight and a breeze.  In my case, the past four days have been brutally hot (flirting with 100F), sunny, and reasonably dry.

You can predict afternoon relative humidity based on morning conditions, and the use of an on-line relative humidity calculator.  (That’s at the end of the prior post).

In my case, the slices that failed to dry in four days were the same as the slices with tomato skin covering one side.  (E.g., from cherry tomatoes, halved).  I had no problem drying 1/2″ slices, as long as there was raw tomato on both sides of the slice.

Otherwise, just follow standard guidance.  Cut and salt the tomatoes.  Put them in the sun, with some sort of netting to keep off bugs.  Bring them in at night and flip them.  Dry until leathery.

The only thing I can’t seem to achieve is drying tomatoes to the point of crispness.  But crisp is preferable for snacking.  So I’m going to have to use a bit of electricity to get them to that point.

By far, the hardest point for me was getting over my aversion to having sliced tomatoes sitting around at room temperature.  But, as a matter of logic, everybody says this takes about four days.  So for most of that time, those tomato slices are going to be quite wet.  And that’s normal.  Ideally, the high acidity of the tomato (and maybe the salting), plus the sterilizing effects of the UV in sunlight, all combine to keep mold at bay long enough for the tomatoes to dry.

Post G23-054: Copper soap versus citric acid for powdery mildew, the rematch.

Edit:  Copper soap works, citric acid does not (see Post G23-059).

It’s déjà mildew all over again. If you are looking for a way to kill powdery mildew cheaply, read Post G19 and Post G20.  But if you have a powdery mildew problem, you might be well served to read this entire post.

Arguably the biggest expense in treating powdery mildew is the DeLorean.  This, because once you spot powdery mildew on your plants, the only truly effective treatment involves a time machine.

By that, I mean that I should have been spraying something to prevent this, weeks ago.  But I’m just not the sort of person to spray stuff on perfectly health-looking plants.

And so, I’m setting up a test of two sprays for preventing further spread of powdery mildew.  In this post, I’m just showing the “before” pictures and setting up the background.  It’ll be a couple of weeks before I have any results. Continue reading Post G23-054: Copper soap versus citric acid for powdery mildew, the rematch.

Post G23-053: It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

 

Today feels like a fine autumn day, here in Vienna, VA.  So I thought I’d write something unalloyedly nice.  On the screen porch, feet up, sipping iced tea.

Listening to the katydids sing.  As I type.

Or whatever those damned bugs are.  Maybe the right name is locusts, but locusts get such a bad rap that I’ll cut them some slack and call them something nicer.  You might find that loud chirruping annoying, where you live.  But where I live, the katydids are Nature’s white noise machine.  They mask what would otherwise be unrelenting traffic noise, lawn mowers, leaf blowers, and so on.

I say autumn day, because the air is cool and the humidity is low.  After the heat and humidity of summer, this is a welcome change.  So it feels like fall, even if the autumnal equinox is still almost a month away.

Here are my observations on three nice things that are happening in my garden. Continue reading Post G23-053: It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

Post G23-052: I dried my underwear in my food dehydrator.

 

I know what you’re thinking.  You’re thinking “Hey, dummy, that’s what the microwave is for.”

And while I acknowledge the truthiness of that statement, my excuse is that I baked my briefs in this manner for Science.

This post focuses on a seemingly simple question:  Why is an electric food dehydrator such an incredibly energy-intensive way to preserve food?

The answer is unsatisfying.  In roughly equal parts:

  • Evaporating water is energy-intensive
  • Evaporation water out of food is even more so.
  • My particular dehydrator is somewhat inefficient.

My bottom line is that drying a pound of wet produce, in my electric dryer, under optimal conditions, takes about 2 kilowatt-hours of electricity.  And there ain’t much I can do about that, other than coming up with a solar dryer that will function in my climate.  My first attempt at that turned out mediocre (Post G22-015).

Continue reading Post G23-052: I dried my underwear in my food dehydrator.

Post G23-051: Gardening, the home stretch 2023.

 

The summer of 2023 is drawing to a close.  They days are getting noticeably shorter.  The kids are back in school.

Good riddance.  In part, that’s because it’s been a mediocre gardening year for me.  But mostly, that’s because I can recall a time when reading the weather report didn’t routinely scare the crap out of me. Continue reading Post G23-051: Gardening, the home stretch 2023.

Post G23-050: Marigolds, beautiful but deadly

 

You will come across gardening advice suggesting that marigolds are an excellent companion planting for your vegetables.  They … something something something … and bad bugs begone.  Plus, they attract pollinators.  And they’re pretty, to boot.

What’s not to like? Continue reading Post G23-050: Marigolds, beautiful but deadly

Post G23-049: Harvesting a mess of okra a day requires a lot of okra plants

End-of-season edit:  I did, finally, get an excellent yield out of Jambalaya okra.  Toward the end of August/early September, productivity picked up.  I had a string of days on which I collected my mess of okra (defined below) per day.  In that light, I’ll revise this to say that 24 high-productivity okra plants is enough to give you a mess of okra per day, for a couple of peak weeks in the okra season.  It’s not nearly enough to yield that, on average, for the entire season.

That said, I could not be more pleased with Jambalaya okra, compared to other varieties I have tried.

Original post follows.

My goal is to grow “a mess” of okra a day, defined as enough to be worth frying up as a side-dish for two.  My wife guesstimates that as 24 tender okra pods.

How many okra plants must I grow, to yield a mess a day? 

More than 24, that’s all I know for sure.  That’s what I have producing right now, and I’m nowhere near my goal.

Answer:  Like onto 75.  Or roughly 150 square feet of okra.  Near as I can figure. Continue reading Post G23-049: Harvesting a mess of okra a day requires a lot of okra plants

G23-048: Uncooked mustard. Handle with care.

 

About mustard, the condiment, I know nothing.  I follow recipes.

I’ve now tried making two batches of mustard, from seed I harvested a little earlier this year.  You can look at recent prior posts to see how I went about harvesting, threshing, and winnowing the mustard seeds.

Continue reading G23-048: Uncooked mustard. Handle with care.