Field Notes

Spring 2026

In spite of the most iconic renderings of “The Fall,” in which Eve eats an apple, the Bible never specifies the type of fruit which led to the pair getting 86ed from the garden. Most historians agree that it was, almost certainly, not an apple. The Mediterranean climate of modern day Eden—Southern Iraq—would make bananas, figs or pomegranates, much more likely candidates for causing the corruption of mankind. Zone 10 unite! 

Contrary to what I’m sure are well-researched theories about the identity of the unnamed fruit, I’d like to throw another idea out into the discourse: the tomato. Let’s look back at the verse and systematically disqualify the other proposed crops.

“When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it.” 

Bananas taste terrible when eaten directly off the tree. Figs, while absolutely delicious, are not the most beautiful belles at the ball. And even those unfamiliar with the economy of the motion principle can see that the juice ain’t worth the squeeze when it comes to pomegranates. 

Tomatoes, however, hit all the marks. Scrumptious, visually stunning, and packed with brain-boosting antioxidants, lycopene and carotenoid— promoting memory, cognition, and mood, all while combatting neuroinflammation. 

And for the hair-splitting literalists out there who argue, “a tomato isn’t a tree!” I would altogether avoid scriptural semantics and instead suggest they read up on the merits of growing indeterminate varieties, which, much like a tree, can grow in excess of twenty feet.

All of the above is presented in an effort to distract readers from the catastrophe that was Kind Folk Farm tomatoes 2025. For more insight into that crop failure, scroll back a couple of newsletters as my ego can’t handle more self-flagellating. And if you’re a CSA member going, “there was a problem with the tomatoes last year?” — bless you but the bottom line is no one walked away last summer going, “boy am I sick of tomatoes,” and our goal is to always make you sick of tomatoes.

BUT I am happy to report that Tomatomania 2026 is off to a great start! We have already harvested our first ripe fruits nearly a month and a half earlier than in years past and we have more fruit on the vines than I’ve ever managed to grow. With the help of my consultant, Josh Volk, I overhauled the tomato plan and am seeing improvements of biblical proportions! 

The main changes: 

Trellising— We have moved away from highly-pruned, vertically trellised plants and are allowing our tomatoes to bush out. We have adopted a Florida-Weave management system that helps contain the unchecked growth. What this means is we are sacrificing tomato size for overall yield. We aren’t aiming for giant tomatoes, just a tasty and extraordinarily abundant harvest. 

When I was learning to farm, I was in the PNW and the Northeast where humid climates mean growing tomatoes under protected culture. This necessitates constant suckering and pruning to promote airflow and prevent disease. But here in San Diego, where dry heat prevails, humidity is not a factor and thus pruning was only leading to sunscald and stunted growth. Solving this issue served as a great reminder that context is everything. 

Seed and Soil Switch-Up— We have abandoned heirloom tomatoes in favor of a hybrid line-up. Before you freak out, scroll back to the newsletter on seed types (heirloom/OP vs hybrid/F1 vs organic vs GMO). Hybrids = just as tasty as heirlooms minus the quirky names plus disease protection packages. On such small acreage, we have to invest our limited real estate in varieties that are going to produce reliably. Instead of Purple Cherokee you’ll be getting Carbon Cherokee (a hybrid cross between heirlooms Carbon and Purple Cherokee). Instead of German Johnson, we have Genuines. Esertinas over Sungolds, etc. 

Seedling Overhaul— The most impactful addition to our greenhouse game was the purchase of a temperature/humidity/light controlled grow tent. Here, our warm loving seedlings broke from seed dormancy and matured past the true leaf phase before being introduced to the minimally heated greenhouse. Instead of starting tomatoes in late February, we seeded on 12/15/25 (Yes, Jac says, you read that correctly—less than 3 weeks after giving birth she was tasked with seeding our largest and most important crop of the year— no pressure). This means the tomato seedlings were much larger than typical when heading to the field. Upgrading our seed starting mix has also been a game changer for the root system establishment and field readiness of our young tomato seedlings. In addition, I’ve been constantly integrating compost into the field all year long to better support the health of our plants.

Growing food is a risky business. Tomatoes have been a bit of a golden goose for me since I launched my own operation. Which is a bit funny as most home gardeners would say that tomatoes are their bread and butter. There’s a lot of factors that have attributed to the elusive goal of           to-mastery, but I’m proud to say that the 2026 season is a step forward after a couple years of stagnating. Thanks for your continued support. I can’t wait for y’all to bite into your first tomato and mayonnaise sandwich this summer. 

In Gratitude, 

Ayzsha

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