I generally don’t mind eating tomatoes much – in salads, in sandwiches, on pizza. In moderation, I find tomatoes inoffensive. I understand, of course, that people have different tastes – I don’t begrudge you your tomato.

A couple of days ago I read this:

The Jer Zone – “Cherry, grape, pear…whatever they are, the small tomatoes are now ripening. Good for impromptu snacking.

and this:

Tinyblog – “I saw Daniel off this morning with a kiss, three of the biggest sandwiches I’ve ever helped make and a sack of freshly harvested cherry tomatoes(his favorite garden snack).”

and today, this:

Sagbottom – “I have them [tomatoes] sliced with a little salt and pepper, tossed with a little oil and basil, popped into my mouth naked.”

Each time I read one of these blog entries, a minor impulse somewhere in the back of my head made me feel that the writer wrote about eating a whole tomato to make people squirm. These bloggers couldn’t honestly like eating whole raw tomatoes, I thought. They’re just being intentionally controversial.

It appears that I might be an intolerant and unreasonable person.

Categorized as Before


  1. It is sort of with a mixture of revulsion and delight that I ate those wee little heirloom lovelies whole. I’m pretty ooky about tomatoes, what with the scary childhood memories I had of my mother eating tomatoes like they were apples. Bluh. The pale boring varieties at the grocery store are certainly not worthy of such gluttonous glee. But heirlooms! I certainly don’t advocate stuffing a whole yellow boy or brandywine into one’s maw, but man… those tiny little grape-sized ones need to be inhaled in their natural form to be truly experienced. It’s like eating summer. Yum.

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