Imagine yourself at a nice little cocktail party, enjoying your favorite adult beverage and perusing a modest yet enticing buffet of appetizers, hors d’oeuvres, tapas, snacks, or whatever it is that you personally like to call them. A plate of crudites has been presented, and cute little cherry tomatoes are among the offerings. You might remark that “these vegetables look so fresh,” and that’s when it happens. The feeling of negative air pressure can be felt as all oxygen is sucked from the room with the comment, that… I don’t really even want to say it.
There’s this thing that some people like to say about tomatoes, but I don’t want to say it, really. You know what they say. And you know what they want, too: they want you to know just how fucking smart they are, and how much time they have spent poring over Species Plantarum and other botanical volumes by candlelight, amassing such a depth of knowledge about the plant world that their chalice of esoterica cannot help but to overflow onto you: the unsuspecting, pedestrian, ignorant pleb who has somehow managed to avoid all education, who still thinks the Earth is flat, and who still thinks that a tomato is a vegetable.
Which it is.
Now listen: I’m not saying that our friend here is wrong. Let’s give him a name, actually, because we’re going to be talking about him for a bit. His name is Mathieu Nix, and he spells it that way despite a drivers license and birth certificate that say “Matthew Nix” because he simply cannot deal with the agony of being common.
I’m not saying that Mathieu is wrong. He’s partly right, and he’s partly wrong, but he’s completely an asshole, because he just turned an otherwise fun and relaxing party into a game of “I’m smarter than you” over a distinction of such little consequence that only an asshole would use it as a point of conversation in the first place.
I’m going to write 2500 words about this though, because I’m that other kind of asshole: the kind who has been cursed with an obsession to truly understand such minutia. Also, I want you to be armed with information that will hopefully help you to slap Mathieu down to an appropriate rung on the social ladder next time he tries this pseudo-intellectual shit, so that I don’t have to do it myself. Along the way, we will also talk about peanuts, because that’s the other bomb Mathieu likes to drop on unsuspecting commoners.
Now if you want to be really anal-retentive, a tomato is neither a fruit nor a vegetable; it is a plant. It is a plant that in the realm of botany produces fruits, which in the realm of food are used as vegetables, and which in the realm of commerce are called simply “tomatoes” because they are the only commercially-important part of the plant.
Does that clear it up? If not, then read on…
Mathieu’s critical misunderstanding stems from the two realms in which one might discuss edible plants. There is the realm of botany, and the realm of food. There’s also the realm of commerce, which closely follows the realm of food but differs in one small way that we will discuss.
Food is largely a matter of aesthetic. Botany is entirely a matter of science. The rules in each realm are slightly different, and as a result, the same bite of food might have one classification in one realm, and another classification in the other. Let me first assert that discussions of botany are not great for cocktail parties, unless the people there are botanists or people who have studied life sciences. Food is a great topic for everyone to discuss because we all have lots of experience with food. We all eat food. We all like food. Most of us buy food and prepare food. Food is the common denominator among people at a cocktail party, and most likely the greatest common denominator among all humans the World over. Therefore, food is the default realm of understanding when discussing tomatoes unless it is overriden by the room-full-of-scientists situation above, and even then, botanists at a cocktail party do not want to hear Mathieu’s shit either; they just want to have a drink and a nosh like the rest of us.
This is Carl Linnaeus. He is the king of botany, and the father of the taxonomic system of Latin names that are still used in life sciences today. Linnaeus would identify your tomato as the fruit of Solanum lycopersicum, and he would be thrilled to discuss with you how that fruit is technically a berry, because its seeds are suspended in the fleshy mesocarp, while strawberries are not berries (they’re accessory fruits) and neither are raspberries (aggregate fruits). To Linnaeus, the classification of plant parts follows their anatomical structure, not their usefulness to humans. He would probably still be okay if you wanted to keep calling strawberries “berries” though, because after devoting his life to the study of plants, he would understand how complicated it can be. He wasn’t an asshole like Mathieu.
In the realm of botany, the term “vegetable” is meaningless and it is not used. There is no anatomical plant structure that is classified as a vegetable, and so discussions of vegetables do not occur in the realm of botany. Discussions of vegetables occur in the realm of food.
This is Julia Child. She is the queen of cooking, and is considered by some to be the greatest chef of all time. She is certainly the most notable. Julia would identify your tomato as a vegetable, and she would be thrilled to discuss with you all of the ways it can be prepared and seasoned to bring out its best characteristics for the table. Julia loved tomatoes. Her stuffed tomatoes Provencale recipe is still inspiring people today, and has been reinterpreted many, many times. She even has a tomato cultivar named after her. Julia probably understood that tomatoes were botanical fruits, but she put them in the vegetable sections of her books and her cooking series because that’s where they belong. She wasn’t an asshole like Mathieu either.
Julia Child and Carl Linnaeus each knew a great deal about tomatoes that the other did not. They were both tomato experts, but they were experts in different fields. There is more than one way to approach the tomato, and more than one way to understand it.
It’s time to bring peanuts into the fold because Mathieu loves peanuts. The only thing he loves more than peanuts is pointing out to you that peanuts are not in fact nuts, but legumes. In the realm of botany this is partly true: the peanut plant is a legume. The part you eat is the seed of the fruit of that legume. Problem is, in the realm of botany, walnuts, almonds, pistachios, pecans, and cashews aren’t nuts either; they’re all seeds. In the realm of botany, the word “nut” refers to an entire fruit, with a hard outer layer and a single seed inside. If the seed inside the nut is edible, then that seed is called a nut in the realm of food. Sometimes in botany, nuts are called “true nuts” to qualify them as such, because most nuts that are important in the realm of food, and thus commercially valuable, are not actually nuts in the realm of botany. Even the “true nuts” like hazelnut and chestnut have inedible shells that prevent the entire fruit from being eaten. In every one of these examples, the edible part of the plant is its seed and its seed alone, and since a nut is an entire fruit, there are no nuts in the realm of botany that are eaten by significant numbers of people.
Now let’s step into the realm of commerce, because this is where some of the confusion probably arises. In the realm of commerce, products have names that do not necessarily describe accurately what the product is or what it is made of. And that’s okay. These mutually agreed-upon names are meant to be a simple and unambiguous understanding between buyer and seller. Pencil lead is not lead anymore, but we still call it lead. Blackboard chalk is not chalk anymore, but we still call it chalk. Sharpening stones are not stone, tin cans are not tin, head cheese is not cheese, soy milk is not milk, and coconuts are not nuts (by any definition). These are names that stuck with these products and we use them so that we can just run to the store for what we know we need, and leave the laboratory equipment at home.
This is Madonna. Madonna is so fucking famous that everyone knows who she is and what she does, but most people don’t know her last name because she doesn’t even need one. I had to look it up myself (it’s Ciccone). Madonna is an expert at having one name because she knows that every other woman named Madonna is less commercially-important than she is.
While we are in the realm of commerce, Madonna will help us with a quick point about the generic term of “tomato,” or “potato,” or “apple” for clarity: these are the primary products which are derived from the plants that bear their name. The product therefore becomes synonymous with the plant that produced it. This is why carrots are not labeled as “carrot roots” and apples are not labeled as “apple fruits.” It is understood that the rest of the plant is pretty much irrelevant in the realm of commerce once the product is harvested. Sometimes a plant has more than one valuable part, but one part is always the most important and that one gets to have the single name. Like Madonna. You only need one name to know that Madonna is… well… Madonna. And turnips might not be as famous as Madonna, but they’re pretty well-known, and you only need one name to know that turnips are turnip roots. Turnips have edible leaves too though, but those are less important so they get two names: “turnip greens.” “Apple wood.” “Sunflower seeds.” “Bamboo shoots.” The single names were already taken. Try calling yourself “Madonna” and see: that shit is not happening.
But a name is just a name. It’s the substance of what you are that really counts.
Tomatoes are vegetables because they are used like vegetables. They are eaten like vegetables. They are sold with the other vegetables. Peanuts, also, are nuts because they are used like nuts, eaten like nuts, and sold like nuts. Those are the only qualifiers that are needed in the realm of food and commerce.
Once upon a time, the US Supreme Court was charged with deciding this very matter because Mathieu Nix is descended from a long line of assholes, and some distant asshole relatives of his thought they could circumvent import tariffs through this scientific technicality when they sued the collector at the Port of New York for taxing their tomatoes. At the time, fruits were exempt from import duty and vegetables were not. The case found its way to the highest court in the land, and the fate of the tomato would be forever decided.
Justice Horace Gray said in his deliverance of the Supreme Court’s unanimous decision in Nix v. Hedden that “botanically speaking, tomatoes are the fruit of a vine, just as are cucumbers, squashes, beans, and peas. But in the common language of the people, whether sellers or consumers of provisions, all these are vegetables which are grown in kitchen gardens, and which, whether eaten cooked or raw, are, like potatoes, carrots, parsnips, turnips, beets, cauliflower, cabbage, celery, and lettuce, usually served at dinner in, with, or after the soup, fish, or meats which constitute the principal part of the repast, and not, like fruits generally, as dessert.”
I aspire to one day express myself so succinctly. “The principal part of the repast.” Well put Justice Gray. Well put.
And so, if you are now wondering how to organize your understanding of whole foods from the plant world, I offer this: don’t overthink it. We live in the realm of food. No longer walking through the vast gardens of Linnaeus’s mind, we are now free to use one of our most pleasurable and simple senses to give us our understanding of such matters: taste. If it tastes like a vegetable it’s a vegetable. If it tastes like a nut it’s a nut.
I will nonetheless offer a breakdown of many common grocery store items to drive the point home completely. If you are reading this and you are a botanist, please excuse my liberal use of certain terms for the sake of reductionism. We both know this could go on forever without some discipline. I do want to mention mushrooms also, which are the fruiting bodies* of fungi and are in the realm of mycology, not botany. But I’m sure Mathieu already knows that.
| REALM OF COMMERCE |
REALM OF FOOD |
REALM OF BOTANY |
| almond |
nut |
seed |
| apple/pear |
fruit |
fruit |
| avocado |
vegetable |
fruit |
| banana |
fruit |
fruit |
| basil |
herb |
leaf |
| black pepper |
spice |
fruit |
| broccoli/cauliflower |
vegetable |
inflorescence |
| cabbage |
vegetable |
leaf |
| carrot |
vegetable |
root |
| cashew |
nut |
seed |
| cayenne |
spice |
fruit |
| celery |
vegetable |
stem |
| coconut |
fruit |
fruit |
| cucumber |
vegetable |
fruit |
| cumin |
spice |
seed |
| dill |
herb |
leaf |
| eggplant |
vegetable |
fruit |
| garlic |
vegetable/spice |
bulb |
| ginger |
spice |
root |
| green beans |
vegetable |
fruit |
| kindney/pinto/black bean |
vegetable/grain |
seed |
| lettuce/spinach/kale |
vegetable |
leaf |
| mint |
herb |
leaf |
| mushroom |
vegetable |
sporocarp* |
| olive |
vegetable |
fruit |
| onion |
vegetable |
bulb |
| orange/lemon/lime |
fruit |
fruit |
| oregano |
herb |
leaf |
| parsley |
herb |
leaf |
| pea |
vegetable |
seed |
| peach/plum/cherry |
fruit |
fruit |
| peanut |
nut |
seed |
| pepper |
vegetable |
fruit |
| pineapple |
fruit |
fruit |
| potato |
vegetable |
root |
| strawberry |
fruit |
fruit |
| sweet corn |
vegetable |
fruit |
| tomato |
vegetable |
fruit |
| walnut |
nut |
seed |
| wheat/oat/barley |
grain |
fruit |
| yam |
vegetable |
root |
| zucchini/squash/pumpkin |
vegetable |
fruit |
The picture should be coming into view. I must caution you, however: as powerful as your newfound knowledge makes you feel, please do not use it on innocent bystanders who are enjoying vegetables or nuts at a party. One of them still might know even more than you do.
If you still find yourself intrigued, and hungry for more, take to the web and let curiosity be your guide. Learn about drupelets and corymbs and caryopses. Or better yet, learn about insalata caprese and confit byaldi, pico de gallo and stuffed tomatoes Provencale. When you bring these to your next cocktail party, you won’t need to look for things to talk about; everyone will be talking to you. In the meantime, you now have the wherewithal to hold assholes like Mathieu accountable. Together, we can beat back their horde into the dark forests of obscurity from which they came, and return to it’s rightful place a vegetable, yes a vegetable, that has warmed the hearts and bellies of billions of people. Rise, oh Holy Tomato. Let your calyx be your crown. Your defenders are here, and we stand ready to fight with you.
