Gregory Moore, University of Melbourne

When it comes to fruit and vegetables, the most common battleground (for parents and public health experts alike) is getting people to eat them. But there’s a battle over semantics too, because many of the things we call “fruit” and “vegetables” … aren’t.

In botanical terms, a fruit is relatively easy to define. It is the structure that develops from the flower, after it has been fertilised, and which typically contains seeds (although there are exceptions, such as bananas).

But while there is no doubt that tomatoes, cucumbers and pumpkins are fruits in the botanical sense, any linguist will tell you that language changes and words take on the meaning that people broadly agree upon and use. We live in a linguistic democracy where the majority rules.

Hence a tomato is still usually called a vegetable – although many people take pride in calling it a fruit, while overlooking other “vegetables” with similar claims to fruit status. If this makes your inner pedant bristle, that’s just tough – trying telling the nearest five-year-old that a pumpkin’s a fruit and see how far you get.

Berries, by definition, are many-seeded, fleshy fruits which are often brightly coloured. They may have a soft or tough outer skin, but they must be fleshy. Oddly, strawberries and raspberries are not really berries at all, because they originate from a single flower which has many ovaries, so they are an aggregate fruit.

True berries are simple fruits that develop from a single flower with a single ovary. Tomatoes and grapes are technically berries, as are avocados, watermelons, pumpkins and bananas. Citrus fruits are also berries and their flesh is renowned for being acidic, which makes the flavour bitter.

Nuts are generally dry, woody fruits that contain a single seed. However, as you might have come to expect by now, things are not always so simple; the word “nut” is often used to describe any woody fruit. So a Brazil nut is actually a seed, whereas the walnut is botanically a “drupe” – a fleshy fruit with a hard inner layer that often persists when the flesh is lost (other drupes include peaches, mangoes and olives).

We all know fruits are good for us, but why are they typically more appetising than vegetables (certainly to kids)? Fruits are often the means by which seeds are dispersed and so the plant, in competition with other plants, needs to attract the right insect, bird or mammal to spread its seeds. This is why fruits are often brightly coloured and rich in nutrition (or at least high in sugar). It is not just humans who like a flash of colour and a soft, sweet sugar hit.

On the other hand, in the case of many leafy vegetables, plants need to protect their leaves from grazing animals and insects. The leaves are valuable and productive assets and so contain chemicals that are often unpalatable. They may be bitter or very strongly flavoured, which may explain why kids are inclined to stay away from them. Luckily, proper cooking and good recipes can often save this situation.

Now eat your veggies

So if fruits are, with a few exceptions, seed-bearing organs, what are vegetables? Here the definition is less clear, because the word “vegetable” has no real botanical meaning.

To a botanist, if the word vegetable is used at all, it would simply mean any plant, in much the same way that plants are collectively referred to as “vegetation”. So we could apply the term vegetable to almost any part of any plant if we wanted to. Hence the term tends to encompass a wide range of foods, particularly green leafy ones.

Cabbage, lettuce, zucchini and cucumber are all described as vegetables (despite the latter two being fruits), and the term has generally come to refer to a specific group of plant parts that are commonly used as foods in various societies. Of course, different cultures eat different parts of different plants. But, generally speaking, in Anglophone cultures the term vegetable is used for plant materials used to make a main meal, while fruits are typically associated with breakfast or dessert.

Among the group that is loosely classed as vegetables, there are some interesting and diverse structures. Bulbs, such as onions and garlic, are highly modified shoots that develop as fleshy underground organs from which new plants can develop. They are a form of asexual reproduction, a natural kind of cloning.

The bulb contains all of the ingredients required for the production of a new plant, such as roots, leaves and flower buds. The food reserves it contains – usually starch or sugar – allow a new plant to develop rapidly at the appropriate time, hence the sweetness of onions and the fact that they caramelise so beautifully. Bulbs such as garlic can also contain pungent defensive chemicals to ward off insects or fungi.

The flowers and stems of many vegetables can also be tasty and nutritious. The flowering heads of broccoli and cauliflower are prized, as are the stems of celery and rhubarb. Once again the richness and diversity of flavours arise from the different chemicals that the plants produce to protect their valuable assets from the ravages of grazing by insects and other animals.

Tubers are formed from swollen stem or root tissue, and it’s relatively easy to distinguish between the two because stem tubers have buds, or “eyes”. Potatoes are typical stem tubers, whereas carrots are root tubers. All tubers are storage organs and last only a year. They are rich in starch, which is often readily converted to sugar to fuel the plant’s growth.

These plant-nourishing characteristics also make tubers very nutritious for us. What’s more, their high fibre content and homogeneous internal structure mean they can be cooked in a wide variety of ways: boiled, mashed, chipped, baked or roasted – even though you and I might not necessarily see “eye to eye” on which is tastiest (with all due apologies for the cheesy potato pun).

While the definitions may be debated and the words may have different meanings for different people, one thing is undeniable: whichever way you slice it, fruit and veggies are very good for you. So eat up.

Gregory Moore, Doctor of Botany, University of Melbourne

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.

Clockwise from top left, tomatillos, cape gooseberries, ground cherries (photo by Gail Thomas)

As alternatives for the garden cape gooseberries, ground cherries and tomatillos (all in the Physalis family) are both edible and ornamental with their fruit forming in protective lantern-like calyxes which conveniently keeps the birds and bugs at bay.
All three species are best planted in spring and treated similarly to tomatoes. The lemon/gold flowers develop into green calyxes which turn to a papery beige hue as the fruit, suspended inside ripens from late summer through to autumn.
Cape gooseberries (Physalis peruviana) also known as goldenberry, Aztec berry, Inca berry or Peruvian cherry are native to tropical South America and grow to around 1.5m high. While treated as an annual, if planted in a warm sheltered spot, plants can be pruned back by about one third after fruiting to get a head start for the following season.
When ripe the bright orange fruit which contains tiny seeds, is around the size of a cherry tomato and boasts a delicious tangy, tropical flavour. Fruit will keep well in the husk for 3-4 weeks. They can be eaten raw, are excellent with cheese, added to fruit salads, desserts and also make exceptional preserves.
Ground cherries (Physalis pruinosa) also known as Cossack pineapple are native to eastern North America and have a lower growing habit to cape gooseberries but can be used in a similar manner. They are prolific bearers and the fruit ripens to a golden/lemon colour with a refreshing tangy flavour.

Tomatillo

Tomatillos (Physalis ixocarpa) pronounced ‘toe-mah-tee-yo’ are native to central America, are also known as Mexican green husk tomato or tomate verde and are a staple in that country’s cuisine, being an integral ingredient in salsa verde.
These hardy plants produce fruit in a husk similar to their cape gooseberry and ground cherry relatives, however, as it matures the size of the fruit fills the husk causing it to split open. Tomatillos are about the size of a small tomato and their skin tends to have a sticky, sappy-like coating.
Green tomatillos are used for salsa and ripen to a pale lemon/gold shade with some varieties having blushes of purple on the skin. Along with being used for savoury sauces they also make an interesting soup. Ripe tomatillos are excellent in salads, combined with tomatoes and can also be baked or pickled whole as a cold meat accompaniment.

Seeds of the three species are available from Phoenix Seeds PO Box 207 Snug Tasmania 7054 email:  phnxseed@ozemail.com.au and Diggers Seeds

All About Tomatoes by Clive Blazey, The Diggers Club, Dromana, Australia. Hardcover, 80pages, $24.95

Would you like to know how modern industrial agriculture destroyed our most alluring fruit? Or more importantly, why? That’s the book that Barry Estabrook has written.

We grow a lot of out-of-season tomatoes in Australia, mostly from Bowen in Queensland and from a little further south in Bundaberg. Occasionally a tiny greengrocer in Victoria whacks up a cardboard sign in August that says: Tomatoes that taste like tomatoes!  But when you pick them up to sniff them you know there’s a problem. Most flavour in tomatoes is actually aroma, and “Tomatoland” explains the science comprehensively. One grower Estabrook interviewed built his business on “the ineffable flavour ofa real tomato, the very trait that industrial producers have bred out of their product”. Why would they do that? Because of the rush toward “higher yields, disease resistance, toughness, shelf life, and round uniformity …”. You might know this already. But you might also be one of the people who “wants something red to put in their salad”.  We are, as Estabrook says, engaged in an inevitable race to the bottom.
This is a great book, and stylishly written. An underlying theme is the exploitation of immigrant workers in seasonal agriculture. It also takes a good look at very successful examples of low-income housing, and again we could learn a lot from the US experience. Ditto Estabrook’s study of successful organics on a commercial scale. — AMS

Tomatoland, by Barry Estabrook, is published by Andrews McMeel. Borrow it from your library or order it from
your local independent bookshop, at about $28 (depending on the exchange rate).

Turk's Turban, Delicata, Potimarron, Australian Butter, Buttercup and Bohemian are just a few of the heirloom varieties of pumpkins available to grow.

Heirloom varieties of squash, gourds and small pumpkins

At Petty’s Orchard they held the Heritage Apple Day with over 100 varieties of apples to try. From the beautiful sweet dessert apples like Cox’s Orange Pippen to the more tart but sublime when cooked Edward VII (a late season English cooking apple first recorded in 1902) , and even cider apples like Dabinett, an old Somerset cider apple producing bittersweet cider.

Such a rich panoply of tastes and textures, colours and scents. So much to loose if we don’t make an effort to preserve our heritage of varieties. So what can we all do? It’s pretty simple really, support the organizations and companies that sell these precious seed and grow unusual varieties of vegetables and fruit. Grow these vegetables and harvest and store our own seed, that way we help to preserve genetic diversity for future generations. Volunteer for the organizations that keep these fruit going, like the Heritage Fruits Society — PW

Scarlet Stymared

Sweet Coppin

Orange and red striped Tigerella tomatoes not only look great the flavour is superb too.

By Anne-Marie

A FRIEND has just arrived with that most treasured of gifts, fresh tomatoes, bless her glut. Black Krims, Little Sugars, Tigerella and Cherry Toms surplus to her own requirements, and a generous handful of fresh basil. She has had a good tomato season (mine was awful: I planted them in the wrong place, neglected them badly and missed one of summer’s pleasures). She is one of those natural gardeners who can grow anything without much apparent effort, and she has been a source of wisdom for years.

So I have immediate plans for them, involving garlic and basil and crisp salad greens and some proper rustic croutons warm from the oven, with a herby dressing and some warm, thinly sliced rare beef scattered over the top, and the pan juices poured over to mingle with the dressing. A very satisfactory meal, as long as everything is properly seasoned with plenty of salt and pepper. I don’t hold with a lack of seasoning: flavour is all.

My daughter’s new love interest is coming for dinner. She’ll use the cherry toms and basil with olive oil and butter and chicken stock to make a simple pasta dish and shave some fresh parmesan over it. I like this boyfriend: he has chooks and loves fishing, so he arrives with free-range eggs and achingly fresh fillets. He has quite won me over.

Marieke Brugman at Howqua Dale does a wonderful savoury tarte tatin with tomatoes. But for many people, cooking a tomato is a sin, like cooking oysters. Our favourite way to eat tomatoes is warm from the vine, or to chop them roughly and macerate in a bowl with good olive oil, basil, and plenty of salt and pepper (and sometimes a pinch of sugar), then pile them on to warm grilled sourdough or ciabatta. Can’t beat it.

Red and yellow tomatoes make a vibrant and delicious salad.

If you are lucky enough to have Mediterranean friends you might score some tomato seeds from Greece or Italy. I have 15 recipes for panzanella, that lovely bread and tomato salad. Google it and take your pick!

Years ago I saw Ian Parmenter make a tomato consommé, involving much straining of juice through muslin (I’d use a clean Chux) and hours of work that was obviously well worth it. I think he may have jellied it after all that, and one day I will do it myself – when I have a whole day to spare. Just as rewarding and a lot less effort is a shot glass with an oyster at the bottom and a Bloody Mary over the top – my favourite Christmas Day breakfast. You shouldn’t really eat oysters in the summer because they’re spawning and they’re too creamy, but I make an exception on Christmas Day. And in May and June and July, I try to really appreciate them.

Joanne Glynn’s slow-roasted balsamic tomatoes are great with grilled fish or meat, or as part of an antipasto platter. The recipe is at the end – it’s from Slow Cooking, Murdoch Books, Sydney 2004. (Buy it from your local bookstore or borrow it from from your library, if you please – it doesn’t do to support Amazon or chain stores when our independent bookshops are struggling against multinationals. The garden is not the only place where diversity might save the planet.) — AMS

Slow-Roasted Balsamic Tomatoes

10 firm, ripe Roma (plum) tomatoes

8 garlic cloves, crushed

4 tablespoons caster sugar

4 tablespoons torn basil leaves

4 teaspoons chopped oregano leaves

Few drops balsamic vinegar

Preheat the oven to 140 degrees. Line two baking trays with baking paper. Slice each tomato lengthways into quarters and put the quarters in rows on the trays.

Mix the garlic with the sugar, basil, oregano and balsamic vinegar. With clean fingers, put a little of the mixture on to the sides of each tomato quarter and season with salt and pepper.

Bake in the oven for 2.5 hours. The tomatoes are ready when they are slightly shrivelled at the edge and semi-dried (they should still be soft in the middle). Eat warm or cold and store in the fridge.

Little sugar yellow tomatoes make a delightful sweet bite with true tomato taste