That sad, reddish thing you pick out of your salad is to a tomato what Beef-A-Roni is to your Italian grandmother’s Sunday Dinner. Bred to not squish or bruise, rather than for flavor, if your red thing came from Florida, it was grown in sand pumped with nutrients, picked while green (often by literal slaves), and made red by storage in ethylene gas. It’s then packed and trucked off to stores and restaurants to be prepared and picked off by people who hate “tomatoes”.
You probably don’t hate tomatoes, you hate what mega agriculture wants you to think is a tomato. A home grown, ripe tomato is sweet and tart, juicy to the point of bursting, with a lovely outdoorsy, lightly earthy, uniquely tomato-y scent…needing nothing except perhaps a little salt and pepper to make eating one an almost erotic experience.
So rather than hate the poor red thing, hate the multinationals that push their fried corn/sugar/salt/cheese products and make vegetables something to dread, rather than savor!
Some information stolen from the book “Tomatoland: How Modern Industrial Agriculture Destroyed Our Most Alluring Fruit” by Harry Estabrook