The new fruit
"Mama, guess what I learned today?" Charlie asked as he dipped his chocolate chip cookie in his milk.
"What, sweetheart?" his mother responded absently as she began her dinner preparations.
"Tomatoes are a fruit!"
"No, darling, they're a vegetable."
"Nope. Mrs. Hanley said that tomatoes are a fruit because all fruits have seeds."
"Would you like a slice of apple on your ham sandwich in your lunch tomorrow?"
"Eww!"
"Exactly. Apples fruit, yummy dessert; tomatoes, vegetable, delicious with lettuce and ham on white with a touch of mayo or mustard."
"Mrs. Hanley says all fruits develop from the o, the ov, the ovary of the plant and contain the seeds."
"Ovaries in second grade?"
"And not only tomatoes are fruit, Mama."
"Do tell."
"Peppers are fruit and so is eggplant!"
"Sounds like new math to me."
Charlie giggles. "It's not math, Mama, it's science."
"Mmhmm. Maybe I should make an eggplant pie for Mrs. Hanley for Teacher Appreciation Day next week."
"With tomatoes and peppers?" Charlie asked, still giggling.
His mother smiles and says, "Maybe."
As he puts his empty plate and glass in the sink, Charlie says, "Whatcha making for dinner?"
Without hesitation she responds, "Grilled chicken with a fruit salad."
"Yum! With blackberries and raspberries?"
"No, not that fruit. The new fruit: tomatoes, cucumbers, avocado and olives. "
"Oh." Charlie frowns then laughs, "an old salad with new fruit."
Tomato, Tomahto
I am an ardent believer in rules, standards and guidelines. These are important components of the framework supporting the society I want to be part of. Ambiguity from open-ended interpretations is the grease that coats the slippery slope which leads to chaos.
Without criteria to guide us, we’ll find ourselves on this irreversible, angled trajectory, doomed for an existence of regret. Our once vibrant and lush and hopeful landscape will be replaced by a dystopian topography, the result of our dismissive attitude towards the importance of descriptive compartmentalization.
With that said, there are always gray areas that push the boundaries of common sense. At the risk of contributing to the fraying of humanity’s moral fabric by ignoring what’s in the Oxford dictionary, with regards to the tomato debate, I am compelled to spurn the botanical definition of a tomato being categorized as a fruit and refer to the ruling of Nix v. Hedden.
John Nix’s company used steamships to import food from the Caribbean and Europe. In order to avoid the 10% surcharge levied on importing vegetables in accordance with the Tariff Act of March 3, 1883, Nix argued that tomatoes were fruit and not subject to this additional cost of doing business.
The case was ruled on by the Supreme Court in 1893. The Court unanimously disagreed and found that the tomato is a vegetable based on the idea that it is most often served during the main part of a meal and not as a dessert.
Although this particular incident of spurning scientific data may have been the impetus that led us to the current state of anarchy we are now teetering on, I have to agree with the fine judges presiding over this case 132 years ago. What was reasonable to these robed gentlemen back before the invention of the mousetrap rings true to me in 2025.
Is a tomato considered a fruit or a vegetable? Here’s my humble, supportive argument reinforcing the legal precedence that refuted conventional science. If I went into Dairy Queen, would I be shocked to find out that tomato was not a Blizzard option? The answer is: “Nope.” Strawberry? Absolutely. Blackberry? Sure. Banana? Yes. But tomato? I would not be surprised by this omission at all. Nor would I feel so slighted that I became a community organizer/activist to boycott DQ until corporate included tomato on the menu.
I also wouldn’t stroll into a Baskin Robbins expecting to be served a cup of turnip sherbert or a double scoop of celery cheesecake with sprinkles in a waffle cone.
I understand by definition, a fruit is the result of a ripened flower and contains seeds while a vegetable makes up a plant’s roots, stems and/or leaves, but I can’t envision a world where picking up a quart of Blue Bell’s limited-edition flavor: Southern Tomato Cobbler was an option.
A tomato belongs on a burger, converted into ketchup or with its adopted vegetable siblings in soups, side dishes and salads. Fruits are for ice cream-based concoctions. In my mind, such a differentiation brings order to an otherwise disheveled universe.
Now I have to reflect on how I feel about the acceptance of mincemeat pie not containing actual meat.
(FYI, I feel like an anarchist because I’m categorizing this submission as Micropoetry. Just saying.)
