Good morning!
I just got back from the garden with my hands smelling of tomato plants and saltpeter because I was harvesting 🍅.
June is tomato month, and it shows. They're looking fine, with that sheen of something grown with care, and with each cut, the juice appears as if to say, "Here I am!" This year, we gave them the attention they needed, and they, being very grateful, returned it in flavor.
The Valencian tomato is pure tradition from here, and it shows. Let me tell you why...
It's a variety that thrives in sandy soil with a touch of salinity, the kind found near the sea. That sand warms up quickly in the morning and drains well, so the roots can breathe and the plant isn't stuck in water boots all day.
The result for you? Firm flesh, thin skin, and a balance of sweetness and acidity that is perfect in June. When the day is hot but the night still cools down, the tomato retains its spark, it doesn't fall flat. That's why the June tomato is especially delicious.
What I like most about this tomato is precisely what large retailers dislike: its skin is thin and delicate, not made for being tossed around.
It requires very specific care for harvesting and shipping, and that's why I'm proud to cultivate it and send it to you from Campos del Abuelo. Here, we harvest to order; every morning, we check your orders and head to the plant.
We pick them by hand, one by one, just as my grandfather taught me, and we prepare them for travel without losing their soul. This "harvest-to-order" approach is almost unique in Spain and is how we champion our fruits and vegetables at a fair price, with farmers working as always, with skill and without rush.
I'm going to confess something to you. It's my favorite tomato. At home, we cut it thick, a pinch of salt, and a good drizzle of olive oil, and you can leave me there alone—I don't need anything else.
If you try it in that summer salad you make, you'll see there's no need to disguise it. It speaks for itself. And if you find a tear of juice dripping onto the plate, it's not sadness; it's pure joy.
The season is short. This Valencian doesn't understand eternities; it understands rhythm. And maintaining a tradition, I tell you after many early mornings, isn't about letting it slide.
You have to keep the thread every day, listen to the plant, adjust irrigation, stake it, choose the right moment. To continue, which is the hard part, is what bears fruit. That's why I'm so excited to tell you that the first ones of June are coming out very well. If you fancy some, they're freshly picked, straight from the garden to your table.
Thanks for the support these past few weeks. We had to finish the table orange harvest earlier, and I'm saving that story for another day, as it's quite substantial and better told calmly.
Meanwhile, we continue tending to the plants, alongside fellow farmers across Spain who care for their land as their parents and their parents' parents did.
There's no magic here, just perseverance and many hands.
I wish you a week with the taste of real tomato.
A big hug and until next time,
