I’m taking great pride showing off the fat juicy tomatoes growing in my backyard; nurturing spring’s infant seedlings to today’s plumped divas was a hard-earned victory.

For years I’ve attempted to grow tomatoes, trying to bend their rules of survival to suit my needs for convenience. I’ve learned the following lessons through the sweat of my brow:

Lesson #1: Nature’s rules don’t bend.

Tomatoes like sun. When I first tried to grow tomatoes, I lived on a woodland lot. I planted them in my one patch of indirect sun and reasoned a double dose of fertilizer would compensate for lack of solar energy. Bless their leggy little vines, they struggled to follow the dabbled daylight, but eventually bit the dust.

Lesson #2: Surrender your control needs.

Tomatoes like water, but not too much. Later years found me on a sunny lot - perfect for tomato propagation. I planted a few and watched them take off, yellow flowers unfurling like starfish. It was a bone-dry summer and friends recommended I water them once, maybe twice, a day. Surely a couple of good soaks a week would be ample; I’ve a tight schedule. On one prescribed water day, I discovered the flowers listless, choked and parched.

The following summer I made peace with the garden hose, catching up with friends on my cell as I soaked the plants daily. Overzealous watering, coupled with a rainy summer, rendered the few survivors water-bloated and rotten.

Lesson #3: Empower your fledglings with opportunities for growth.

Tomatoes like space - and supportive stakes. After Lesson #1 and Lesson #2 were learned, I was ready for serious tomato farming. In a small square footage of sunny garden space, I planted every varietal the farmers market had to offer.

After weeks of diligent watering and fertilizing, I created a hedgerow with thick intertwining vines resembling a jungle; the 2-foot metal tomato cages, merely playpens for medusa. Heaving vines snapped under their own weight, and sunlight was unable to penetrate through the thicket. Miraculously, they didn’t die, but fruit production (yes, tomatoes are a fruit) barely yielded a substantial salad.

Synopsis: It’s the tomato’s world, we just garden in it.

Applying this wisdom to tomato growing generally yields bumper crops for me about now - I’ve even ventured into the sacred cult of heirloom varietals.

According to the website, ehow. com, heirloom tomatoes are grown from seeds that have been passed down through generations because of their desirable fruit-bearing characteristics.

Their bold, irregular shapes and acidic-sweet flavor are the antithesis of the perfectly symmetrical, flavorless hybridized reds we’re accustomed to seeing in grocery bins. Available throughout the year, these tomatoes are genetically modified for shelf-life and to withstand the rigors of shipment.

But pity the produce manager, accountable for margins, required to stock the fashionable heirloom, with its close to non-existent shelf life. For the best time to eat an heirloom, indeed any home-grown tomato, is when the fruit is ready to burst from it’s seams - but not quite.

There’s a very thin line between perfection and rot, and non-hybridized tomatoes quickly reach that zenith. I’ve found farm stands and backyard plants are the best sources for summer tomatoes.

Enjoying tomatoes simply sliced and served with a bit of salt and pepper is surely the finest way to savor their hot-off-the-vine flavor. Simple pleasures, however, will soon be replaced with needs for other recipes - as one tomato quickly morphs into a dozen. This recipe combines red, green and heirloom tomatoes with sweet basil, rich cheeses and the crunch of toasted pine nuts, all bundled into a savory pie.

Project Grow is sponsoring their 10th annual tomato tasting from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. Saturday at the Ann Arbor Farmers Market. The Project Grow community of gardeners includes members who are charged with protecting our locally treasured heirloom tomato seeds. If you'd like to volunteer or you're growing any tomatoes that you consider a treasure, and would enjoy having featured at the tasting, visit the Project Grow website (www.projectgrowgardeners.org).

If you are considering planting your first tomato plant next spring, don't let my tomato trials dissuade. I tell my story, hoping you will avoid my mistakes. I've a knack for making most things more difficult than they need be. When I was in third grade, my best friend grew beauties out of an old coffee can, seemingly effortless, on her back porch.

Yield: 6 slices
Active Time: 35 minutes
Baking Time: 30-45 minutes
Cost: apx. $13.50

Ingredients

1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1 large leek, white and light green parts only, chopped into 1/4-inch pieces and washed
1 cup ricotta
1 teaspoon minced garlic
3 tablespoons plus 1/2 cup Parmigianno Reggiano
1/2 packed cup chopped or torn fresh basil plus 1 tablespoon thinly sliced basil
1 egg, beaten
6 large slices tomato (apx. 3 1/2-inch diameter), cut in 1/4-inch slices then cut in half
1 large fresh mozzarella ball (ovoline), cut into 1/4-inch slices
1 (9-inch) prepared pie crust, whole wheat preferred*
2 tablespoons pine nuts, toasted

*With vegetable pies, I only use a whole grain pie crust. You can't beat a whole wheat, scratch-made pie crust, but to save time I purchased Wholly Wholesome organic whole wheat frozen pie shells, available at The People's Food Coop and Arbor Farms.

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 400Ëš.
2. Heat olive oil in a large sauté pan to medium low. Add leeks and cook until tender, about 7-9 minutes, stirring occasionally. Reserve.
3. Combine ricotta, garlic, 3 tablespoons of the Parmesan and 1/2 cup basil, reserving remaining tablespoon basil for garnish. Season to taste with freshly ground pepper. Combine mixture with egg.
4. Line a baking sheet with paper towels or a clean cloth. In a single layer, place tomato slices on towels and lightly sprinkle with kosher salt. Allow to drain 15 minutes then press additional towels over tomatoes. This removes much of the liquid insuring a more dense pie.
5. Evenly spread cooked leeks on bottom of pie crust. With a spatula, spread seasoned ricotta over leeks. Arrange, like the spokes on a bicycle, tomato slice halves in a circular pattern over ricotta. Top with fresh mozzarella and evenly sprinkle with 1/2 cup Parmesan.
6. Bake on middle rack of oven 30-45 minutes or until cheese has set and crust is golden brown.
7. Let sit at least 10 minutes before slicing. Garnish with reserved basil and pine nuts.