Deep Purple

For four years, I've worked to stabilize genetics for plants that produce deep purple tomatillos from an original source of Baker Creek's Purple Tomatillo seeds, which at first grow-out produced mixed green, lavender, and occasionally purple tomatillos. This year, after years of roguing out plants that didn't match my ideal, I had no outliers; each produced inky-purple, very sweet tomatillos, and loads of them. Supported by tomato cages, the plants grow taller than I am, and they are covered with golf-ball sized fruits. As well, unlike their tomato relatives, they appear unfazed by the root-knot nematodes that have invaded my garden beds. When I pulled them up to clean out their bed for fall this week, I discovered their roots were smooth and nematode-free.

Since I've been working to pin down these genes, I've had to grow out more tomatillos than I would likely do so otherwise. Consequently, at the end of each summer, I am rich in sweet, deep purple marble-fruit. In the past couple years, I've been making big batches of salsa morada that I freeze to use for dinners during the winter. When I'm busy, I defrost a quart and make rolled cheese enchiladas in salsa morada. When I'm really busy, the enchiladas are stacked rather than rolled.

Quite unlike the large grocery-store green tomatillos, the fruit of this variety is near black on the exterior with purple flesh among the very ripe and mottled purple flesh among the near-ripe. It is much sweeter than the standard green tomatillo.

This year, I saved seed from my largest-fruited plant to grow out next year in an attempt to gradually increase fruit size, but if I lose flavor, color, or quality in this venture to produce larger fruit, I'll ease off on that goal. What I've got is already quite special.

A friendly acquaintance recommended I name this tomatillo "Wenger Ink." Any other suggestions?