Bookworm, Issue 29

The Book: Ten Tomatoes that Changed the World by William Alexander

Where I live in the North, August is a glorious month when farmers market stalls are overflowing with the freshest, locally-grown produce. Among the baskets of summer squash, green beans, crunchy cucumbers, and new potatoes, no fruit or vegetable is more prized than the sun-ripened tomato. But the beloved fruit’s ascendency was meandering, even uncertain at times, explains author William Alexander in Ten Tomatoes that Changed the World.

Alexander follows the tomato’s journey from arrival in Europe aboard Spanish ships to present-day, global ubiquity in this wide-ranging, informative, and entertaining novel. Fans of history, science, gardening, and food writing will enjoy the author’s anecdotes about the origin of canned tomatoes, pizza, ketchup, Big Boy hybrids, the “tasteless and soulless” Florida tomato, and more.

Because I adore pizza nearly as much as tomatoes – and because Alexander devotes a fascinating chapter to the birth of pizza in Naples, Italy – our wine pairing is one of my favorite pizza accompaniments. Lambrusco. Dry, fruity, floral, and lightly frizzante. Ours is an easy-drinking bottle that will spark your curiosity – much like Alexander does.

In Ten Tomatoes, Alexander debunks dubious “tomato legends” and devotes serious consideration to the forces that shape our modern-day food system. The author combines first-hand reporting and research with a healthy dose of dad humor for a lighthearted read. The writing is lively and conversational and balances learning with fun.

I was surprised to read that tomatoes, native to Peru and Ecuador, were domesticated in Mexico one thousand years prior to Spanish arrival. And when first introduced to Italy in the mid-1500s, they were not eaten. (Three hundred years will pass before tomatoes become a staple in Italian cooking.) Some Europeans thought the tomato was poisonous while others did not know whether to eat the leaves or the fruit. Tomatoes remained “unpopular, unloved, and uneaten well into the 1600s.” They did not not fare much better in colonial America where “the tomato’s most enthusiastic consumer…was the tomato hornworm.”

Then, in 1830, an Ohio physician falsely claims that tomatoes prevent cholera, and the fruit begins to “win over America’s hearts and stomachs.” The Civil War cements its popularity and kick starts an automated canning industry that will forever change the American diet. Meanwhile, in southern Italy, tomatoes gain acceptance among the vegetarian peasantry who make conserva tomato paste to preserve their crops year round. When these farmers discover that experimental seeds from a northern canning entrepreneur grow best in their volcanic soil around Mount Vesuvius, the San Marzano tomato is born, transforming Italy into the world’s largest canned tomato exporter.

In each of his ten chapters, Alexander’s curiosity about and enthusiasm for tomatoes is contagious. He continually asks ‘why” and then makes interesting connections to explain the answer. My favorite chapter chronicles his quest to discover why the tomatoes in his supermarket taste so terrible. He visits Florida tomato growers and breeders and learns that the answer is complicated, setting consumer demand against economics.

I was shocked to read about industrial agriculture’s copious use of fumigants and fertilizers – and 25 million pounds of single-use plastic “mulch” per year to cover Florida cropland. But Alexander concludes his novel more optimistically, describing the “scrumptious” flavor of an heirloom Brandywine tomato – a taste and texture “revelation” made all the more remarkable now that we understand how far the tomato has come.

The Wine: Zanasi, Tradizione, Lambrusco Grasparossa di Castelvetro, Emilia-Romagna, Italy, 2023 $18

Fruity and lightly-frizzante, this dry, ruby red Lambrusco exudes ease and charm. Dominant red and black fruits mingle with floral, earthy, and savory characters. Candied strawberry, jammy blueberry, ripe raspberry, and blackberry bramble come to mind. Also, crushed rose petal, potting soil, and a hard-to-define herbal element that reveals itself on the palate with minty, white-pepper spice. The fruit smells deliciously sweet, but the palate is decidedly dry. Few bubbles rise in the glass, but the wine feels light and lively in the mouth. High acid, low tannins, and 12% ABV. Linger for a moment to enjoy the concluding pleasant and faintly bitter note. Effortless enjoyment, indeed.

100% Lambrusco Grasparossa di Castelvetro grown in two vineyards with limestone-based clay soil, one planted in 1964 and the other in 2002. After six days of cold maceration, the grapes are pressed and undergo a single fermentation in stainless steel tanks using indigenous yeast. The wine is lightly filtered and bottled with no additional CO2. Best enjoyed young and fresh. Serve chilled.

Zanasi is a small, estate winery in Emilia-Romagna, Italy. Authenticity and simplicity are important to the fourth generation who farms and makes wine from 55 acres south of Modena. The family practices organic viticulture and integrated pest management, using natural predators to manage parasites in the vineyard.

From importer Oliver McCrum’s website: “Excellent with salumi, pizza, pasta with meat sauce, the hint of bitterness on the finish cuts right through rich flavors.”

Why the pairing works:

William Alexander devotes several chapters to Italy in Ten Tomatoes, including how the tomato was introduced to Cosimo de’ Medici in 1549. Later, the author takes us to southern Italy to learn about San Marzano tomatoes, the birth of pizza, and the moment when “tomatoes find pasta, and a new cuisine is born.”

Tomatoes are undeniably associated with Italian food, and so our paired wine is Italian, as well. But, you might ask, why Lambrusco? Lambrusco comes from Emilia-Romagna, in the north, rather than the tomato-adopting regions of Campania or Sicily. And despite a recent renaissance, Lambrusco has not entirely shaken its poor reputation as a sweet and frothy, low-quality wine.

But the fact that both Lambrusco and tomatoes were initially misunderstood in America reinforces this pairing. In the 1970s and ‘80s, Lambrusco was “on the list of reviled wines” as mass-produced, overly-sweet, fizzy wines flooded the market. Similarly, tomatoes were disliked when they arrived in New England. Colonists called them odious, repelling, offensive, and even revolting. Luckily for us, in both cases perceptions changed.

We now have access to artisanal and dry styles of Lambrusco that are delightfully food-friendly.  Lambrusco is a family of grapes, with more than a dozen varieties, and is made in a range of styles. Lambrusco di Sorbara yields elegant and floral pink wines while thick-skinned Lambrusco Grasparossa produces more tannic purple wines. The most planted variety is Lambrusco Salamino, whose wines are somewhere in the middle. Some Lambrusco wines are fermented in tank, while others undergo a second fermentation in bottle.

Our Lambrusco Grasparossa from Zanasi pairs perfectly with pizza. The wine’s light bubbles cut through the rich cheese and meat, and its fruity notes compliment the savory tomato sauce. Slight bitterness on the finish cleanses the palate between bites. Beyond the harmonious flavor combination, I appreciate the relaxed and easy-going state of mind that both pizza and Lambrusco invoke. Not fancy, but decidedly delicious. Altogether, we have an approachable and lively combination that perfectly compliments Alexander’s conversational and humorous tone.

P.S. Wine lovers will enjoy an amusing exchange between the author and a translator about the importance of the water and soil, the “terroir,” that sustain the San Marzano tomato farms.

P.P.S. And I appreciated “tomato nut” Craig LeHouiller’s description of the Brandywine, which reminded me of some wine writing: “(I)t is still Brandywine that I think of when I ponder the perfect tomato-eating experience…an unmatched succulent texture that melts in your mouth. The flavor enlivens the taste buds, with all the favorable components of the best tomatoes – tartness, sweetness, fullness, and complexity – in perfect balance.”

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Bookworm, Issue 28