First was the earth, then came tomatillos
Tomatillo plants learned long ago in Guatemala and Mexico to dress their fruits in little paper shirts that turn brown when the fruits are ripe. The fruits are not little tomatoes as the name indicates, although they are distant relatives of tomatoes, cape gooseberries, ground cherries, eggplants and all the 2200 species in the Solonaceae clan.
Tomatillo plants are similar to tomatoes in structure, but unless a gardener insists on staking them to a trellis or cage, tomatillo branches readily spread willy and nilly in all 27 directions. Five or six clustered in a bed might make a thicket.
Aztecs and Mayans depended on tomatillos even more than tomatoes because they handled heat better and resisted diseases and rot. Its original name tomatl came from the Nahuatl group of languages of southern Mexico (which included the Aztecs), but when the invading Europeans took New World seeds and plants back to southern Europe, the name migrated over to the more popular cousin tomato, and the less popular plant became tomatillo.
European tomatillo plants did not whimper. They continued to be what they had been for millenia – a smallish citrusy-tart flavored firm fruit which paired well with spicy peppers and herbs in soups, jams, and salsas that families in Mesoamerica valued.
In Central America and Mexico, grandmothers roasted tomatillos with spicy peppers and then blended them together to make salsa verde which was used as a condiment. Clever chefs like me add it to beans, burritos, scrambled eggs, chicken dishes, even potatoes if you know what you’re doing.
Back in the day before Kenmore appliances, you would roast your tomatillos by cutting them in half across the middle, not top to bottom, and placing them on an adobe platter over charcoal heat for thirty minutes. The roasting brings out sweetness and moderates the tartness. Nowadays, you preheat your oven to 400°, put the sliced tomatillos on a baking dish (skin sides up), add a splash of olive oil and bake for 20 minutes. Then you can add it to whatever you dreamed up.
Tomatillos are easy to grow. Start seeds with peppers and tomatoes in the spring. Transplant seedlings when the soil is warm enough. They are annuals, so you get to know them for only six months or so. The plants will sprawl if you let them or if you are a few days late containing them. They need one another for pollination to produce fruit. The outermost leaf-like parts that protect the flower while it develops is the calyx, and the calyx will surround the fruit as it grows and grow with it to protect it. It becomes a papery husk.
Most varieties are green or purple. The Chupon de Malinalco variety is yellow, four inches long and pointy. As a fruit approaches maturity, the husk turns brownish, and the tomatillo inside might push through the bottom. It is best to harvest them when they fill the husk and before they turn soft. The harvested tomatillos will keep for maybe three weeks in a dry, airy location such as your sock drawer. In the refrigerator, they can last for a couple weeks.
Tomatillos have a way showing up the following year in surprising places. In fact, tomatillos are so resourceful, Kenya considers them invasive weeds. I respect its procreative tendency and look forward to finding them in new spots every spring. Last year, I put in five leggy seedlings overdue for transplanting, and not only did they respond and produce fruit, several next generation seedlings sprouted this spring from fruit that dropped.
The fruit are a source of dietary fiber but without sodium, fat or cholesterol. They also contain vitamins A, C, K, plus niacin and your favorite minerals which might help ease arthritis and moderate blood sugar levels.
In a very productive year, the gardener will have more than enough fresh fruit, so freezing is an option. Peel the husks, rinse well, and place a layer on a tray in the freezer. Easy. You might get homemade salsa verde on New Year’s Eve.