What can I say... I love to read and I love to eat tomatoes. Was there ever anything better suited to my enjoyment than a 270 page book on the subject?
Allen covers everything (or what feels like everything)... a history of tomato cultivation and breeding, farming practices, labor issues, the tomato business here and abroad, and of course, taste tests.
The "standard" tomato we know today is actually the product of years of dedicated breeding. With increased demand, tomato scientists went to work in the twentieth century. There was a lot of room for improvement. A fruit was needed that didn't require coring and separated easily from the vine for better harvesting, had a thick enough skin to survive transport (but not too thick to slice or bite easily), could be reliably ripe by the time it hit shelves, and tasted decent. Add in more subtle differences for the canning and restaurant industry. And of course some modern consumers insist, in Allen's words, that all of these varieties be grown by "a farmer that employ[s] a lot of workers, providing them with good wages, health insurance, and decent living conditions. They'd want tomato farms that didn't damage watersheds, wetlands, or the ozone layer. The tomato, for starters, should be highly nutritious, organic, and tasty; have a minimal carbon footprint; and reduce our dependence on Middle Eastern oil. Its cultivation should feed the soil, make farmers prosper locally or in developing countries, and be free of germs and chemical residue. And they'd want it cheap, and they'd want it now - whether it was July or January."
The resulting diversity of breeds available today is truly stunning, as are the problems that arise. Mexicans value one kind of taste, Japanese another. The Dutch are getting in on the seed market. The Italians were incensed not long ago upon learning that a fair percentage of the tomato paste in their stores was produced my a Chinese military operation on the Uzbek border (some with lively names like 3rd Battalion Tomato Paste Company).
Then there are the American organic types, foodies, locavores, whatever. Trouble started in the late 70s when a practical and affordable mechanical harvester was introduced to the California canned tomato market, and purists complained of lost jobs and over-mechanization. Farmers shot back that picking was backbreaking work which no one wanted, especially long term. In the mid 2000s, a number of modern-day slavery rings were busted by the FBI for providing immigrant pickers to Florida farms. The scientists, breeders, farmers, and businessmen interviewed by Allen all seem to regard organic with mixed feelings. One large tomato paste provider summed it up: "Growing with less fertilizer means using more land to produce the same amount of food...because less fertilizer means lower yields. Where do we get the acreage? Wetlands? Forest?...Are petrochemical-based fertilizers and pesticides necessarily worse than spraying "organic" copper and sulfur and bacteria on your plants? Is it more ethical to eat organic heirloom tomatoes driven across the country than conventional ones grown fifty miles away? Is it more ethical to ship five hundred tomatoes one hundred miles than ten thousand tomatoes one thousand miles away?" The sheer volume of writing material provided by tomatoes makes for a ponderous trip to the produce section... surely the lettuce, carrot, beet, potato, banana, apple, kiwi, and organic pomelo industries are no less complicated.
Anyway. Allen ends by talking about his own little tomato plants in the backyard, and what we're really after (or at least he is, and I am too)- a tomato that tastes good. My own preferences are for the vine-on Camparis sold at Costco (which I'm told from this book are grown in eco-friendly greenhouses near Lake Erie), and the exotic Mexican cherry blends when I'm feeling particularly extravagant. This book was for me, like tomatoes, pure enjoyment.