Is there anything more difficult than growing a fruitful tomato plant?

The annual battle with tomato plants is in full swing. Every year, growing a decent tomato represents the supreme challenge. I might have walked over 200 miles from Edinburgh to London and produced dozens of TV shows over the years, but rearing a fruitful tomato plant from seed is more difficult than dealing with challenging creatives or navigating non-existent footpaths.

Two years ago, when I moved from Yorkshire to Norfolk, I asked the removal company to transport my tomato plants from their cosy greenhouse in Nidderdale to an overgrown walled garden in the Broads. I had lavished so much attention on the ruddy things I could not bear to leave them behind. Amazingly, they not only survived the lorry journey but thrived, producing dark red exotic fruits with names like Duke of Burgundy – probably because the weather that August was hot.

I had a repeat success last year, with plants costing 50p from the bargain bin at the local farmshop. They produced a bumper crop (granted, they were run-of-the-mill fruits of the Moneyspinner variety) with little hands-on nurturing.

This year, the half dozen plants I bought in May were kept indoors during the horrible rain. Big mistake – they’ve turned into leggy disasters and look like I did as a teenager, two metres high with sprawling limbs. Flowers are thin on the ground. The plants reared from seed are weeks behind schedule, but stocky and bushy.

Will any of them produce tomatoes worth eating? At the supermarket there’s a glut and punnets cost £1. But I’ll persevere with my crop – during this pandemic, we’re taking pleasure in small things close to home. And I’m determined (no matter what I have to feed them with) that this lot will flourish.