when old tomatoes meet new: norfolk purple ripens in my garden

This morning, as I picked my first Norfolk Purple tomato, I was swept back to childhood summers in my grandmother’s backyard. Back then, tomatoes were always red, plump, and a little misshapen—never these glossy, deep-purple beauties. My hands remembered the feel of sun-warmed fruit, but the color in my palm was something my family would have called 'strange.' I can almost hear my father scoffing at these modern varieties, insisting nothing beats the taste of a classic beefsteak. Yet, my neighbors—especially the younger ones—are obsessed with growing the rarest, most Instagram-worthy tomatoes. It’s funny how gardening has shifted from a humble, practical tradition to a showcase of novelty and aesthetics. Here in the Northeast, where late frosts can still surprise us, I wonder if these new hybrids are truly suited to our unpredictable climate. My grandmother’s tomatoes survived anything, but last year, my neighbor’s exotic seedlings withered in a sudden cold snap. Are we sacrificing resilience for beauty? And then there’s the community garden debate: should we stick to tried-and-true varieties that everyone knows, or embrace these new cultivars that might not even survive our seasons? Some folks say the old ways are best, while others argue for progress and experimentation. As I sliced into that Norfolk Purple, I thought about what we lose and gain with each generation’s choices. The taste was different—sweet, almost floral. Not better, not worse. Just new. Maybe that’s what gardening is all about: honoring the past, but daring to grow something different, even if it sparks a little controversy. #gardeningdebate #familytraditions #heirloomvshybrid #Gardening