These days, it is hard to imagine a tomato causing much of a stir. Despite its current ubiquitousness, however, the tomato inspired controversy for centuries. The fruit (or vegetable…) that we might now think of as mundane, in previous centuries, stimulated fear, myth, religious zealotry, and even legal dispute.
The tomato can most likely be traced back to a wild, berry-sized ancestor that grew in the Andean area that is now present day Peru. The plant migrated up to Central America and the pre-Colombian peoples of Mexico adopted it sometime afterwards. Soon after their arrival in the new world, the Spanish brought tomato seeds back to Europe. By the early 17th century the tomato had infiltrated Spanish and Italian cuisine. The French and Northern Europeans were, however, much more reticent in adopting the fruit for anything outside of ornamental use.
Even though their neighbors to the south adopted the tomato, Northern Europeans believed the plant to be poisonous and potentially deadly if ingested. The botanical cousins of the tomato plant might explain this erroneous assumption. The tomato is a member of the Solanacae family along with many plants that actually are poisonous such as nightshade and belladonna. Also, though the fruit is edible, the leaves, stems, and roots may contain toxic glycoloids and solanine – perhaps dangerous to those Europeans who first encountered the plant.
In many languages, the word for “tomato” still reflects the once perceived perils of the plant. Though the English word is simply a derivation of the Nahuatl (Aztec language) word “tomatl,” other languages adopted more ominous sounding names. The scientific name for tomatoes, “Lycoperisicum,” translates to “Wolf Peach” – a moniker based on the assumption that tomatoes could serve as a poisonous bait for wolves. The Hungarians baptized the fruit the “paradice appfel,” believing the Garden of Eden to have been located somewhere in the New World and the tomato (rather than actual apples) to be the dreaded fruit that caused Eve to sin. The Italian and French translations may have also followed this line of the thought. The Italian “pomodoro” can be interpreted as “golden apple” (a possible reference to the apples in the garden of Hersperides) or “love apple.” Using these interpretations, linguists and food historians assume that the first tomatoes were actually golden in color or that the Italians, like the Hungarians, also associated the fruit with original sin. The French “pomme d’amour” or “Apple of Love” would also support this hypothesis. This word, though, could also have been a bastardization of the French word for eggplant (a close relative of the tomato): “pomme des mours.”
Centuries after most people forgot the etymological origins of their words for tomatoes, beliefs in the supernatural and dangerous powers of the tomato persisted. To this day, in many rural areas of North America, there are still people who remember being told not to eat them. The citizens of the United States, in fact, were some of the last in the world to incorporate tomatoes into their cuisines. Though the French-influenced people of Louisiana used tomatoes as early as 1812 and Thomas Jefferson had cultivated the plants at Monticello, the inhabitants of the northeastern United States did not start cooking the fruit/vegetable until the middle of the 19th century. Even then, widespread popularity and acceptance of tomatoes only occurred well into the 1900s.
In keeping with the tomatoes’ ability to stimulate and excite the imagination, a popular tall-tale is often told about the Colonel Robert Gibbon Johnson, the man supposedly credited with finally introducing tomatoes into American cuisine. According to the folk legend, one day in the fall of 1820, Johnson gathered hundreds of spectators to watch him eat a basketful of the deadly fruit on the steps of the Salem, NJ courthouse. In the story, people came from miles to hoping to see Johnson keel over. In many versions, his doctor stood nearby warning the crowd that Johnson would foam at the mouth and develop a deadly brain fever. Of course Johnson survived, and, as many tell it, he later makes a fortune running a tomato cannery.
Even after Americans were satisfied that the fruit was safe to eat, the tomato could not avoid controversy. In 1887, the debate over whether the tomato was a fruit or a vegetable traveled all the way to the Supreme Court. In Nix v. Hedden, the tomato importer John Nix, argued that, since tomatoes were botanically considered fruits, he should not have to pay a vegetable tax when importing them. The court acknowledged that, botanically speaking, tomatoes were fruits but decided that in common parlance and everyday culinary use they were considered to be vegetables. Nix did indeed have to pay and the tomato continued to straddle the vegetable/fruit divide.
Though now so often taken for granted as just another part of a salad or merely the main ingredient of ketchup, the tomato may be one of the most interesting vegetables (or fruits!) on modern tables. Few foods have sparked so much fear, debate, and deliberation. From forbidden fruit to versatile vegetable, the tomato stirred imaginations for centuries.
The tomato can most likely be traced back to a wild, berry-sized ancestor that grew in the Andean area that is now present day Peru. The plant migrated up to Central America and the pre-Colombian peoples of Mexico adopted it sometime afterwards. Soon after their arrival in the new world, the Spanish brought tomato seeds back to Europe. By the early 17th century the tomato had infiltrated Spanish and Italian cuisine. The French and Northern Europeans were, however, much more reticent in adopting the fruit for anything outside of ornamental use.
Even though their neighbors to the south adopted the tomato, Northern Europeans believed the plant to be poisonous and potentially deadly if ingested. The botanical cousins of the tomato plant might explain this erroneous assumption. The tomato is a member of the Solanacae family along with many plants that actually are poisonous such as nightshade and belladonna. Also, though the fruit is edible, the leaves, stems, and roots may contain toxic glycoloids and solanine – perhaps dangerous to those Europeans who first encountered the plant.
In many languages, the word for “tomato” still reflects the once perceived perils of the plant. Though the English word is simply a derivation of the Nahuatl (Aztec language) word “tomatl,” other languages adopted more ominous sounding names. The scientific name for tomatoes, “Lycoperisicum,” translates to “Wolf Peach” – a moniker based on the assumption that tomatoes could serve as a poisonous bait for wolves. The Hungarians baptized the fruit the “paradice appfel,” believing the Garden of Eden to have been located somewhere in the New World and the tomato (rather than actual apples) to be the dreaded fruit that caused Eve to sin. The Italian and French translations may have also followed this line of the thought. The Italian “pomodoro” can be interpreted as “golden apple” (a possible reference to the apples in the garden of Hersperides) or “love apple.” Using these interpretations, linguists and food historians assume that the first tomatoes were actually golden in color or that the Italians, like the Hungarians, also associated the fruit with original sin. The French “pomme d’amour” or “Apple of Love” would also support this hypothesis. This word, though, could also have been a bastardization of the French word for eggplant (a close relative of the tomato): “pomme des mours.”
Centuries after most people forgot the etymological origins of their words for tomatoes, beliefs in the supernatural and dangerous powers of the tomato persisted. To this day, in many rural areas of North America, there are still people who remember being told not to eat them. The citizens of the United States, in fact, were some of the last in the world to incorporate tomatoes into their cuisines. Though the French-influenced people of Louisiana used tomatoes as early as 1812 and Thomas Jefferson had cultivated the plants at Monticello, the inhabitants of the northeastern United States did not start cooking the fruit/vegetable until the middle of the 19th century. Even then, widespread popularity and acceptance of tomatoes only occurred well into the 1900s.
In keeping with the tomatoes’ ability to stimulate and excite the imagination, a popular tall-tale is often told about the Colonel Robert Gibbon Johnson, the man supposedly credited with finally introducing tomatoes into American cuisine. According to the folk legend, one day in the fall of 1820, Johnson gathered hundreds of spectators to watch him eat a basketful of the deadly fruit on the steps of the Salem, NJ courthouse. In the story, people came from miles to hoping to see Johnson keel over. In many versions, his doctor stood nearby warning the crowd that Johnson would foam at the mouth and develop a deadly brain fever. Of course Johnson survived, and, as many tell it, he later makes a fortune running a tomato cannery.
Even after Americans were satisfied that the fruit was safe to eat, the tomato could not avoid controversy. In 1887, the debate over whether the tomato was a fruit or a vegetable traveled all the way to the Supreme Court. In Nix v. Hedden, the tomato importer John Nix, argued that, since tomatoes were botanically considered fruits, he should not have to pay a vegetable tax when importing them. The court acknowledged that, botanically speaking, tomatoes were fruits but decided that in common parlance and everyday culinary use they were considered to be vegetables. Nix did indeed have to pay and the tomato continued to straddle the vegetable/fruit divide.
Though now so often taken for granted as just another part of a salad or merely the main ingredient of ketchup, the tomato may be one of the most interesting vegetables (or fruits!) on modern tables. Few foods have sparked so much fear, debate, and deliberation. From forbidden fruit to versatile vegetable, the tomato stirred imaginations for centuries.
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