From Sicily to Downers Grove and beyond: Preserving a family's rare tomato, even in DuPage jail

When Enrico Inciardi's family emigrated to the United States around 1900, they secretly brought a taste of their Sicily home with them.

Fearing U.S. Customs authorities would confiscate them, the Inciardis sewed seeds of their favorite vegetables into the seams and hems of their clothing. They included seeds for their favorite paste tomato - one that, unlike other tomatoes, was mostly flesh, with very few seeds in each fruit.

They moved to the Chicago area, where Enrico - now called Henry - started working for Western Electric. But in his spare time, he continued growing the family's tomatoes, saving seeds each year. He taught his son, John, how to preserve seeds.

For decades it was a family affair. But in recent years, other gardeners have joined to preserve the rare tomato, including detainees in the DuPage County jail's horticulture program.

A challenge

Connie Kollmeyer, an adjunct instructor in the horticulture program at the College of DuPage, works with JUST, a nonprofit agency providing education and counseling programs at the jail in Wheaton.

Several years ago, the jail started Hope's Garden, where detainees grow flowers and produce to donate to charity.

Kollmeyer got several Inciardi tomato seeds from Downers Grove resident Vicki Nowicki, who received seeds from John Inciardi. The tomatoes have very few seeds - as few as three, sometimes - unlike better-known tomatoes offered by commercial seed companies.

"I gave them (the jail students) a challenge: 'These are kind of important. Do you want to try to grow them?'" Kollmeyer said.

She told them the story about the seeds and why it is important to preserve plant diversity.

Fortunately, all six seeds germinated. The plants produced about 10 to 12 tomatoes per week during harvest. And from that batch, Kollmeyer taught the inmates how to preserve the seeds, fermenting them for a time with their gelatinous goop to remove a coating that inhibits germination and to destroy pathogens, then letting them dry.

They donated some seeds to the Downers Legacy Seed Library and the seed library at the St. Charles Public Library. The jail also kept some for this year's crop.

The gardeners started the plants indoors in a hydroponic garden on the fourth floor of one of the jail's wings. Last week, they transplanted 18 seedlings outside, where they hope the plants - which can climb as high as 15 feet - will grow along a fence.

"These will get really big," Kollmeyer said. "We had really good production last year."

Why save seeds?

Nowicki received the seeds in the 1980s.

She was at a friend's house when John Inciardi walked over and gave her a "massive" tomato, Nowicki said. He told her his family's story, that it was the only tomato his family ever grew and - as far he knew - nobody else was saving them. He said she should save the seeds and told her how.

"At the time, there was no term for 'heirlooms,'" Nowicki said. "They were just old-fashioned immigrant tomatoes."

It was the only time they met. Inciardi died in 2010. It was Nowicki who named the variety after the Inciardi family.

The tomatoes have sentimental value - the story of how the seeds came to the United States, how the family preserved them, and how others are making sure the Inciardi tomato doesn't become extinct.

"We're just really drawn by stories," Nowicki said. And the Inciardi tomato's story includes drama.

Henry Inciardi was a survivor of the Eastland ship disaster in 1915, where a pleasure ship full of Western Electric employees and their families rolled over in the Chicago River, killing 844 people. Henry Inciardi's first wife was among the fatalities.

Inciardi tomatoes have historic culinary value, here and in Italy, Kollmeyer said.

The Slow Food organization, to which Nowicki belongs, has listed the Inciardi tomato in its Ark of Taste project, which involves collecting and preserving foods, and breeds and varieties of vegetables, fruits, livestock and fish that are in danger of disappearing.

The effort to preserve the Inciardi tomato is one example of saving something different, rather than growing the same few things available at every big-box store.

It also contributes to genetic biodiversity.

"We know it does well in our climate and area because it has grown (successfully) for so long," Kollmeyer said. "If we save our seed, we know it has already acclimated."

Seed banks in Italy have no record of the tomato, according to Kollmeyer.

"The only place in the world you could get this tomato was in the Chicagoland area," she said.

The Inciardi tomato is gaining fame. Recently, one of John's nieces saw an article about it. She didn't know about the tomato but was delighted to share family photos with Nowicki.

Nowicki has shared that information with the Iowa-based Seed Savers Exchange, which is dedicated to preserving diversity, including the stories behind the seeds. And this spring, 200 of the plants were sold at a plant sale at the St. Charles Library, Nowicki said.

"It does my heart good to see that," Nowicki said.