With Labor Day weekend in the rearview mirror and the crisp September air taking hold, I’ve been thinking about this season’s successes, failures, and any end-of-summer projects I might want to try to end on a high note. And while I’ve saved lettuce and pea seeds, I’ve never saved tomato seeds before. I thought, “Why not give it a try? Now’s the time.”

You see, my mom is selling the house I grew up in, and I’m having a hard time thinking about saying goodbye to the humble 8’x4′ raised garden bed I built. This little corner is where my love affair with home gardening began. I cleaned it up this spring and planted peas, kale, lettuces and carrots as I have in the past. But as it exploded with weeds over the summer, a few volunteer tomato plants also fought their way to grow.

I figured saving the seeds is the best way I can honor my love for this garden, along with a few other more artistic projects I have up my sleeve. But more on those later!

Step One: Pick the Best Tomatoes for Saving Seeds

When planning to save seeds, you’ll always want to give your plants a once over and select the healthiest, best-looking fruit. I got lucky because the one Cherokee Purple heirloom tomato I grew this year was also a beauty. I’m thinking it’s also a choice specimen because it sprouted from a volunteer tomato plant, so it’s got the chutzpah and can-do attitude I’m looking for! A tomato after my own heart (and my New York/New Jersey roots).

For the last few years, I’ve gotten my tomato seedlings from the wonderful women of Rise & Root Farm in Chester, NY. Stopping by their farm in the rich black dirt region of Orange County, NY to pick up my plant babes is always a treat, and if you’re in the city, I’d encourage you to stop by one of their farmers markets! They’re a group of women committed to “building a strong local food economy” with justice and equity at the forefront. Hell yes, please.

Step Two: Scoop the Seeds

To scoop the seeds, cut the tomato in half across the middle of the fruit, i.e. not top to bottom. This will reveal all the pulpy seed pockets for easy removal with a small spoon. Now’s also a good time to take a second to admire just how gorgeous fresh food can be, like the inside of these heirloom tomatoes. They almost resemble a watery map to me with lots of little streams. Anyone else? Moving on!

Gently scoop the seed pockets into a clean jar, along with all the juice and pulp. You’ll only want to avoid getting too much of the pithy center bits, so take your time. Next, cover the jar with a double layer of cut cheesecloth and tie it around the top of the jar with twine or a rubber band.

This concoction is going to sit and ferment for three days, you’ll want to contain that smell as best you can. I was expecting the worst, but I think the cheesecloth made a big difference. Not so smelly after all! But why might you want to ferment your tomato seeds before cleaning and drying them for storage?

In a nutshell, wet tomato seeds contain an extra gelatinous outer layer that protects the seed. This gel-sac can inhibit germination, and so it’s a good idea to be rid of it for the purposes of saving viable seeds. Fermenting your seeds in a jar mimics the natural lacto-fermentation that happens when a rotting tomato drops to the dirt out in a field. This is how I got my glorious single volunteer plant! And though it’s a good idea to go through the process, it’s not 100% necessary. In a pinch, you can also thoroughly clean and dry your tomato seeds straight from the fruit.

Step Three: Clean the Seeds

If you too go the fermentation route, you should see some gentle bubbling over the course of a few days. A moldy film should also form on the top of your tomato pulp and seed mixture, so don’t be alarmed! I left my seeds to ferment for about three full days, and I don’t think you want to go much longer that that. What you don’t want to is for the seeds to germinate in the jar and moldy mixture, which can happen if they’re left too long.

To begin the cleaning process, dispose of as much of the moldy film as you can without accidentally dumping all your seeds too. Then, pour the remaining contents of the jar into a larger bowl and add cool water. Swirl it around a bit and gently pour off as much water as you can. Repeat as many times as needed, until you’re left with clear water and visible seeds.

Viable seeds will sink to the bottom, and any bad ones will float. You can dispose of those that are floating because they won’t germinate properly, and so you don’t want to save them. Once you have clear water and clean seeds, lay them out on a paper plate to dry.

Step Four: Dry the Seeds

After a day or two, check on your drying seeds and move them around the pate to ensure they’re not sticking in place. But here’s the thing — make sure you leave your plate of precious drying seeds someplace safe, and not on top of your freezer door where you may flip them over in a sleepy haze at 5:30am.

That’s right, I managed to launch all my delicate seeds right off the plate and into the abyss that is the space between the wall and the fridge. I was able to retrieve most of the seeds, which were now covered in dust. A little patience and some tweezers, however, go a long way. Once I separated most of the seeds and got them back on the plate, I moved them out of the way but within eyeshot, i.e. on top of my record collection. No accidents here!

Step Five: Pack the Seeds

Once your tomato seeds are dry, you’re ready to package them for safe keeping. I use small brown paper envelopes from AC Moore, and then for a final flourish, I wrap them with decorative washi tape. If you too use washi tape, be sure to wrap enough layers so that the packet is sealed completely.

It’s so satisfying to hold in your hands a packet of homegrown seeds, knowing all the love and care you put into the process. It’s optimism for the seasons(s) ahead, and it’s slowing down to thank the garden for all it’s provided in seasons past. It’s part science experiment, part ritual, and every bit a special time to appreciate the generations of growers who came before you. Happy seed saving, my dears.