When my wife Lindsay and I bought our Queens apartment in 2011, I couldn’t wait to start gardening. We had lucked into a rare New York amenity: a proper big balcony, 7 by 20 feet and all to ourselves. That first winter, I nursed tomato and chili plants from seed under a grow lamp in the back room. In spring, I moved them outside, eyes always on the thermometer lest a late frost arrived. All summer I carefully watered and fed them, hand-pollinating the chili flowers each morning with a small paintbrush. Out of 14 plants, I got one sad pepper and a handful of flavorless grape tomatoes. I didn’t plant anything else for a decade.
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