Growing Your Own Black From Tula Tomatoes

If you're looking for a fruit that actually tastes like something, black from tula tomatoes are pretty much the gold standard for heirloom lovers. I still remember the first time I grew these; I was used to those bland, watery red spheres you get at the grocery store, and then suddenly I had this dark, moody-looking fruit that tasted like it had been seasoned with smoke and salt right on the vine. It honestly ruined regular tomatoes for me.

These tomatoes originally come from Tula, Russia, which tells you a lot about their temperament. They're tough, they can handle a bit of a chill better than some of the more delicate Mediterranean varieties, and they have this deep, complex flavor that you just don't find in hybrids. If you've been thinking about adding some variety to your garden, these should definitely be on your shortlist.

What Makes These Tomatoes So Different?

The first thing you'll notice about black from tula tomatoes isn't the taste, but the color. They aren't literally "black," but they are a very deep, dusty mahogany or a brownish-purple. Most of them have dark green "shoulders" (the top part near the stem) that stay green even when the bottom is fully ripe. It looks a bit strange if you're only used to bright red tomatoes, but that dark pigment is where all the health benefits and flavor compounds live.

In terms of size, they're pretty substantial. You're looking at a beefsteak-style tomato, usually weighing in between 8 and 12 ounces, though if you're lucky and your soil is hitting all the right marks, you might see some that push over a pound. They aren't perfectly smooth like a pool ball; they usually have some ribbing and a slightly flattened shape, which gives them that classic "old-fashioned" look.

The Flavor Profile People Rave About

I always tell people that if you want a sweet tomato, grow a SunGold cherry. But if you want a tomato that tastes like a meal, you go with the Black from Tula. The flavor is often described as "smoky" or "salty." It's a very rich, savory profile that's balanced out by a decent amount of acid.

A lot of heirloom enthusiasts compare them to the Cherokee Purple or the Paul Robeson. While they're in the same ballpark, Tula tends to be a bit more consistent in its flavor even if the weather isn't perfect. Some heirlooms get really watery if it rains too much right before harvest, but these seem to hold onto that concentrated intensity a bit better.

Getting Them Started in Your Garden

If you're going to grow black from tula tomatoes, you need to remember they are indeterminate. This is just a fancy gardening word that means the vine is going to keep growing and growing until the frost finally kills it. You can't just stick these in a tiny little cage from the hardware store and expect them to behave. They will easily reach six or seven feet tall, so you'll want a heavy-duty trellis or a very tall, sturdy stake.

Starting from Seed vs. Buying Starts

I usually start mine from seed indoors about six to eight weeks before the last frost. They germinate pretty easily, but they do like heat. If you have a heat mat, use it. Once they sprout, they need a ton of light so they don't get "leggy"—that's when the stems get thin and weak because they're stretching for the sun.

If you aren't into the whole seed-starting saga, you can usually find them at local nurseries that specialize in heirlooms. Just make sure the plant looks stocky and green, not yellowed or root-bound.

Soil and Sun Requirements

These guys are sun worshipers. You want to give them at least eight hours of direct sunlight. If you put them in the shade, you'll get a beautiful green vine but almost no fruit. As for the soil, they love organic matter. I always dig in a bunch of compost or aged manure before I plant. They also appreciate a bit of calcium in the soil to prevent blossom end rot, which is that annoying black patch that can form on the bottom of the fruit.

Common Challenges and How to Handle Them

No plant is perfect, and black from tula tomatoes have a few quirks. Because they're heirlooms, they don't have the "built-in" disease resistance that modern hybrids do. They can be prone to things like wilt or early blight if you aren't careful.

The best way to prevent this is to keep the leaves dry. When you water, aim for the base of the plant, not the foliage. I also like to mulch around the bottom with straw or wood chips. This keeps soil from splashing up onto the leaves when it rains, which is how most soil-borne diseases get a foothold.

Another thing to watch out for is "cracking." Dark beefsteak tomatoes have thin skins, and if you get a sudden heavy rain after a dry spell, the fruit can expand faster than the skin can handle, causing it to split. The best way to avoid this is to keep your watering as consistent as possible. If you know a massive thunderstorm is coming, sometimes it's worth picking any fruits that are even remotely close to being ripe just to save them from splitting.

When to Harvest for the Best Taste

This is where most people mess up. Because black from tula tomatoes have such a dark, muddy color, it's hard to tell when they're actually ready. You can't wait for them to turn bright red because they never will.

You want to look for a color shift from green to that deep brownish-purple. But the real test is the "squeeze test." Give the fruit a very gentle press. If it feels rock hard, it's not ready. If it has a little bit of give—like a ripe peach—it's time to pick it.

I actually prefer to pick mine just a day or two before they are "perfectly" ripe. I let them finish ripening on the kitchen counter (never the fridge!). This protects them from birds, squirrels, and the aforementioned cracking. Plus, once a tomato reaches the "breaker stage" (where it starts changing color), it has all the sugars and acids it needs; it doesn't actually need the vine anymore to taste great.

In the Kitchen: What to Do With Your Harvest

Honestly, it's almost a crime to cook these. They are so good raw that I usually just slice them up, sprinkle a little sea salt and cracked pepper on them, and eat them as a snack.

They are, without a doubt, the best sandwich tomato I've ever found. If you make a BLT with black from tula tomatoes, you'll never be able to go back to regular ones. The smokiness of the tomato plays off the bacon perfectly. They're also incredible in a Caprese salad with some fresh mozzarella, basil, and a drizzle of really good balsamic vinegar.

If you end up with a massive harvest and you can't eat them all fresh, you can make a sauce, but be prepared for the color. Because of the dark pigments, the sauce will look a bit more "rustic" and dark than a typical bright red marinara. It tastes amazing, though—very deep and savory.

Why You Should Give Them a Space in Your Garden

Gardening is a lot of work. Between the weeding, the watering, and the constant battle against pests, you want the payoff to be worth it. Growing black from tula tomatoes provides that payoff. There is something incredibly satisfying about walking out to the garden, picking a heavy, warm, dark fruit, and knowing you're about to eat something you simply cannot buy at a store.

They might be a little fussier than a standard red hybrid, and they might not produce quite as many fruits as a commercial variety, but the flavor more than makes up for it. If you have the room for a big, sprawling vine and a desire for a tomato that actually tastes like a tomato, you really can't go wrong with these Russian classics. Just make sure you have some sturdy stakes ready, because once they take off, there's no stopping them.