I say tomato, you say Big Zac

People zoom past Elizabeth Casteel’s house on University Road in their vehicles oblivious to what lurks a few hundred feet away in her backyard.

Hidden from the whirlwind of Spokane Valley life are Casteel’s tomato plants – 1,500 to be exact. And all varieties. Tomatoes aren’t just red anymore, they’re orange and white and green and some have fuzz.

Say tomato and the Tomato Lady says Heirlooms, Great White (they’re a blonde color and so fruity), Orange Sungold (the best cherry tomato I’ve ever had), Vintage Wine, Pineapple, Alberta Peach (they have fuzz on them), Big ZAC (a two-pounder) and Amana Orange in the same breath.

“You mean there are more than red tomatoes?” a visitor asked. The Tomato Lady has patience. She smiled and said, “Oh yeah. Lots.”

This Master Gardener’s backyard was filled with a veritable array of flower and vegetable beds. Quaint wicker chairs were covered with tiny yellow flowers from the massive tree above. Cats romped through the grass and a large friendly dog greeted the visitor entering the floral paradise.

In the corner of the yard sat the greenhouse where Casteel’s prized tomatoes quietly grow every year awaiting their emergence at the annual Garden Expo at Spokane Community College during Mother’s Day weekend. “It’s one of the most top-drawer shows I’ve been to,” Casteel said. “It’s an amazing show. It has like 200 venders. It started out with maybe 1,000 people coming. Now they’re up to 12,000 plus.”

Casteel’s booth at the Expo is typically sold out by noon. Her reputation precedes her. “It’s so neat because I was in a nursery and this person said, ‘Oh my gosh, I’ve heard of you, you have a reputation in the tomato business.’ I thought, ‘Well, that’s great.’ “

Casteel is adamant that store tomatoes can’t compare to homegrown because “they’re picked green and the tomatoes don’t have time to get flavor.

“My mission is to teach people about different kinds of tomatoes,” she said. She stays true to that mission. “There are a lot of people who say if it ain’t red, it ain’t a tomato. So what I usually do is sell them a red one and then I sell them something different.” The Tomato Lady is sneaky that way.

Ten years ago Casteel lived in obscurity on the South Hill. Becoming the Tomato Lady was the furthest thing from her mind. “I wanted to grow something I couldn’t get at some of the nurseries. I would grow the tomato plants and hated throwing them away so I’d put them in my driveway with a sign that said, they’re X-amount of dollars; pick what you want and put the money in the can. I never had any problems. Gardeners are good people.”

A business was born and the logo soon followed. “That’s when people started calling me the Tomato Lady and I thought, ‘That’s clever. We’ll go with that,’ ” said Casteel, who is also a stay-at-home-mom and graphic artist.

Casteel did the laborious tomato chores solo until she married Steve five years ago. Luckily Steve came equipped with four children who eagerly got involved with tomato growing. “They would all help sell the plants, take the money, and they know lots of stuff about tomatoes. I pay the kids. They earn as they learn.”

In early March, the tomatoes are planted. “I start them in the house in little flats under lights. Each variety goes in one and when they get their first two seedling leaves, I put them into six-packs and later into four-inch pots.”

This year, Casteel almost gave up her tomato selling venture after she broke her ribs in a horseback-riding accident that left her unable to do the required two transplants. “My friends said, ‘We’ll be there and transplant them for you.’ Five friends came over for the last transplant, and they did 1,500 in one day. I’m really grateful for that.”

One transplanting friend and fellow expert gardener, Heather Figg and her husband Loren Moll, stopped by to pick up tomato plants for themselves and a neighbor. They rattled off varieties of tomatoes they wanted and the kids plucked them from the 1,500 growing in the greenhouse.

A typical tomato harvest entails 60 varieties, but this year due to the accident, Casteel reduced her assortment to 34. Before each growing season Casteel seeks advice from her family as to which tomatoes were fast sellers and which ones they like best. “And then I look through the catalogs for new introductions, and if they sound good, I try them.”

Casteel also does special requests for people. “If someone asks me, I’ll grow it,” she said with a sly smile. “And then I’ll also send them another tomato plant.” sneaky Tomato Lady strikes again.

Casteel and Figg admit that gardening becomes an addiction. Casteel’s husband thinks differently.

“I’m not addicted,” Steve Casteel laughed. “I joke TGIM (Thank God It’s Monday) because I can’t wait to get to work on Monday so I can rest. I’ve been working all weekend.”

The Tomato Lady is sympathetic to her husband’s complaints. “Every year when I’m sick and tired of dragging hoses to water and weed, I think I’m going to asphalt in the backyard,” she said smiling. “By December, that’s over, and I’m ready to start again. The best thing about it is, once the show is over, I’m done for the year.”

Along with building some muscles, Steve Casteel has learned plenty about tomatoes. “We walk through the greenhouse and wave our hands over the plants. That makes them think it’s windy, and they don’t want to break so they get thicker and sturdier,” he said.

“Another interesting thing is that height is determinate on what container they’re in because they send out feeler roots and if it gets resistance that tells it how big it can grow.

“When we got married I only had a lawn,” he said. “No flowers, no vegetables, just grass.”

“Grass is so overrated,” Figg quipped. Figg described her yard as a Hosta haven, but she also has a passion for roses and “just about anything that grows.” Currently she’s on a “dwarf willow quest.”

The kids love helping out at the garden show earning money and selling tomatoes, but there’s another side benefit.

“Sometimes we have entire meals just from our garden; like stuffed bell peppers and tomatoes,” said their son Dave, “and we call that part of our yard, ‘The Garden of Eatin’.”

As the sun began to set on Casteel’s colorful backyard she turned to her husband. “What are some things we can say that I can’t remember?”

“You mean how wonderful you are?” he said.

“Yeah, that part … and how beautiful.”