Thanks in advance for any help!
John
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Nanna
As far as I can make out, this story exists in many versions, none of
which seem to be true.
Does anyone know if there is any real evidence for the "tomatoes weren't
eaten because thought to be poisonous" story? If so, when and where? They
were apparently being eaten in Italy as early as the 16th century.
--
David Friedman
DD...@Best.com
http://www.best.com/~ddfr/
In article <369f7...@news.isholf.is>, "Nanna Rögnvaldardóttir"
<nan...@isholf.is> wrote:
>Never heard this but I do remember a story about one Robert Gibbon Johnson
>eating a whole tomato in front of a large audience in front of the
>courthouse in Salem, NY, just to prove it wasn´t poisonous. This was in 1820
>so the assassin attempt probably occured before that.
Sorry to quote myself again, but...
From Chapter one of "The Tomato in America; Early History, Culture and
Cookery," (1994), slightly revised and without the end notes. The book is
available directly through the University of South Carolina Press or through
Food Heritage Press
"On Sunday, January 30, 1949, CBS broadcast live over national radio a
reenactment of Robert Gibbon Johnson eating the first tomato in America. This
episode of the You Are There series depicted an event purportedly held in
September 1820 in Salem, New Jersey. According to the CBS broadcast, prior to
this date Americans considered the tomato poisonous. Johnson, one of Salem's
most prominent citizens, had imported tomato seeds from South America and
planted them in his garden. When they produced fruit-bearing vines, he
announced that he intended to eat a tomato on the courthouse steps. From
hundreds of miles around, spectators traveled to view the sensation. An Italian
witness even journeyed all the way from Salem, Massachusetts. (As there were no
railroads in southern New Jersey in 1820 and steamboats were still novelties
along the Delaware River, a newspaper columnist reviewing the broadcast
commented dryly, "The stage coaches, saddle horses, sloops, and schooners must
have done a landslide business.")
"On the appointed day, as the CBS version had it, hundreds of onlookers
gathered to see the spectacle of Johnson eating a tomato, expecting him to fall
frothing to the ground, then die a painful death. Not all in the crowd,
however, believed Johnson would necessarily succumb. The actor playing the part
of Dr. James Van Meter, Johnson's personal physician, declared in an interview
with the You Are There reporter that, while ordinary people would be poisoned
by tomatoes, Johnson might not because he had an unusually strong constitution.
In the radio version, Johnson mounted the courthouse steps and turned in scorn
on the throng. "What are you afraid of? Being poisoned?" he asked. "Well, I'm
not, and I'll show you fools that these things are good to eat." He then sank
his teeth into one of the supposedly lethal fruits with dripping relish. Some
actor-onlookers fainted. Others gaped in astonishment. But much to almost
everyone's surprise, You Are There reported, Johnson survived and launched a
new and mammoth tomato industry.
"The CBS broadcast was not the first rendition of this story. The first known
version appeared in 1908, when William Chew, the future publisher of the Salem
Standard & Jerseyman, asserted simply that Johnson brought tomatoes to Salem in
1820. Sixteen years later Alfred Heston added that after Johnson introduced
tomatoes, Salemites considered them inedible but admired them for their
appearance. Joseph S. Sickler's initial version of the story, published in
1937, was not much different from Chew's and Heston's statements, but he
altered the status of the tomato from an ornamental to an edible plant.
Sickler, an amateur local historian, went one step further, claiming that after
Johnson introduced the tomato, he patiently educated the natives as to its
qualities, showing that it was edible and nutritious. Perhaps he misread Heston
or alternatively assumed that, if Johnson introduced the tomato, he probably
ate it and persuaded others to do so. Sickler's hypothesis, however
speculative, had some basis. Johnson owned a book, published in 1812, that
contained a recipe for making tomato ketchup; he therefore knew at least that
the cooked tomato was edible.
"The Johnson story might have remained simply a part of local lore except that
Sickler was also an excellent publicist. He recounted the story to Harry
Emerson Wildes, who used it in his nationally acclaimed book The Delaware. As
Johnson participated in the activities of the local agricultural society and
organized fairs in Salem County, Wildes assumed that he had used the
agricultural society to push his tomato hobby and had started county fairs to
make the vegetable popular. Wildes also claimed that Johnson dared to eat a
prize tomato publicly on the courthouse steps. Stewart Holbrook, in his Lost
Men of American History, dramatized Wildes's version by creating imaginary
dialogue for the event.
"Joseph Sickler's second version of the story, written in 1948, was not
published until the following year. Sickler tried his hand at rewriting the
legend, expanding Wildes's and Holbrook's embellishments. His second version
differed considerably from his initial brief account. It was enhanced even more
dramatically than previous renditions. Sickler then acted as historical
consultant to the CBS broadcast and added still more material to the story.
"Versions of this story have appeared in professional and scholarly journals
and magazines such as Scientific American, Horticulture, and New Yorker;
several publications of historical societies; and prestigious newspapers,
including the New York Times. Dozens of cookbooks and food books have retold
the story. As culinary historian and bookseller Jan Longone has reported, it
"has been repeated scores of times in almost yearly articles in major American
newspapers and journals." Since 1987 Salem residents have held an annual Robert
Gibbon Johnson Day in which a reenactment of the tomato-eating legend is
performed on the courthouse steps. The purpose of the reenactment is not to
promote historical truth but to foster a sense of pride in Salem's history,
which is a laudable goal. Less commendable are those who have reported on the
event. In 1988 the reenactment was covered by a Philadelphia television station
and rebroadcast over ABC's Good Morning America. In this broadcast it was
declared that Johnson ate the first tomato in America.
"Few writers, journalists, broadcasters, or historians attempted to examine the
historical basis for the Johnson story. Those who did performed inadequately.
CBS researchers attempted to authenticate it. William Chew affirmed that
"Salemites in general seemed to have heard it, but couldn't say just where."7
This vague response did not deter the network from broadcasting the drama.
Francis Coulter wrote to the Salem County Historical Society requesting
information about the incident. He received a reply stating that there was no
factual evidence that it happened. This response did not stop him from
reiterating the story in Horticulture. Robert Hendrickson claimed in his book
Lewd Food that several unnamed scholarly books on the Garden State endorsed the
story, but he cited only Coulter's article in Horticulture. He made an effort
to get at primary sources, he declared, but said it was thwarted when he
learned "that a fire in the local newspaper office had destroyed all records of
the period." There was no fire in the local newspaper office, but some Salem
newspapers from 1820 were missing. Hendrickson stated that the event occurred
on September 26, 1820. Unfortunately for his version of the story, a copy of
the Salem Messenger dated September 27, 1820, survived, as did several
subsequent issues. These made no reference to any tomato-eating incident. In
fact, no reference to the tomato in Salem has yet been located in any primary
source prior to the mid-1830s.
"In 1949 Sickler revealed that his version of the story was based on an account
given to him by William Casper, a respected auctioneer, many years earlier.
According to Sickler, Thomas J. Casper witnessed the incident in 1820 and told
the story to his grandson William. The Salem Standard & Jerseyman judged that
he had a reputation for accuracy in his historic yarns.8 However, there are
serious difficulties with Sickler's attribution of the Johnson story to William
Casper. These difficulties are related to William Casper's uncle, Charles
Casper.
"Charles Casper was a tinsmith who began canning fruit in Salem in 1853. Later
he was part-owner of a successful Salem canning factory. He continued to be
involved in the canning and packing industry until his retirement at the turn
of the century. According to the Salem Standard & Jerseyman, Casper had a good
mind and often made valuable contributions to the history of the community. One
example was a four-page paper prepared for the Salem County Historical Society
on the history of canning in Salem. In this paper he said that "the tomato was
brought to Salem, New Jersey, in 1829 by some ladies from Philadelphia."
Charles Casper's version of how the tomato arrived in Salem was written in
1906. Charles Casper's father was Thomas Casper, the same person who, according
to Sickler, told William Casper the story about Johnson and the tomato. Why
would Thomas Casper tell his grandson the Johnson story but not tell his son?
As Charles Casper was involved in the canning industry in Salem, he surely
would have been familiar with commonly told stories about the tomato, yet he
made no mention of the Johnson story in his history of canning.9
"Salem's history is fairly well documented, particularly during the early
nineteenth century. Johnson was often mentioned in Salem's newspapers. His
biography appeared in several nineteenth-century works, and his granddaughter
compiled a genealogy of the Johnson family. He was an active member of the
Salem County Agricultural Society. He also wrote the first history of Salem,
which chronologically covered the period around 1820. Despite this large
reservoir of information about Salem and Johnson, no nineteenth-century record
has yet surfaced crediting Robert Gibbon Johnson with introducing the tomato to
Salem.
[snip]
"Many introduction stories were grounded in fact and have collaborative
support, such as contemporary notations in diaries, letters, garden account
books, and newspaper reports with eyewitness testimony. Other stories are
modern speculations with excellent hypotheses, which, if pursued, might shed
insight into the introduction of the tomato into America. Still others are the
fanciful inventions of their authors. Some authors, such as those who helped to
establish and perpetuate the legend of Robert Gibbon Johnson, viewed the lack
of primary evidence as a license to display their creative writing talents. The
criterion for selecting (or manufacturing) details was not historical accuracy
but good storytelling. While these stories may have made good reading, they
made bad history.
Not so far as I know, unless people were trying to use the greens a potherb or
salad green (for which again there is no evidence). IIRC, there's a recipe for
tomatoes with a vinegar sauce in Gerard's Herbal, which suggests that tomatoes
were regarded as edible in the anglophone world well before the 1820s.
Stephanie
I don't know how long it lasted, and have no sources to back me up, but I
think the reasoning behind the whole tomato=poison thing was that tomatos
are member of the Nightshade family, which ARE poisonous. So they did have a
bit of evidence on their side. At least until the family dog bit into one
and didn't drop dead :).
BTW: Is it possible that the tomato in the assasination is being confused
with the story that President Taylor (I think it was him) ate poisoned
strawberries the day he became ill (and subsequently died). His body was
exhumed a few years ago in order to refute that theory.
>I don't know how long it lasted, and have no sources to back me up, but I
>think the reasoning behind the whole tomato=poison thing was that tomatos
>are member of the Nightshade family, which ARE poisonous.
That is one common element of the story. Of course, eggplants are part of
that family too, and had been eaten in the old world for many centuries.
I don't know of the incident you mention, but I think it could be safely
said that Bill Clinton's presidency was assinated by a tomato.
--
Ronald J. Wilson
Visit the Stanley Portal Hyatt Home Page at
http://www.outspan.com
I´ve been trying to remember my (original) source for the Robert Gibbon
Johnson story; I was quoting from a book I wrote myself so that doesn´t
count. But I think the point here is that it was a RAW tomato. But I found
this in Colin Spencer´s Vegetable Book:
"Reactions in America were, if anything, worse. Long cooking before the
tomatoes could possibly be palatable was earnestly advised. "Tomatoes will
not lose their raw taste in less than three hour´s cooking," Eliza Leslie
wrote in 1848 (in Directions for Cookery). The vinegar and spices added to
tomato sauce were considered to be some antidote to any lingering poison."
After all, there are toxic alkaloids in the stems and leaves of the tomato
plant. And don´t forget that the plant was originally called Mala insana,
the unhealthy apple. They were popular in Italy and Spain from the sixteenth
century onwards, came somewhat later into Provence, but it took them two
hundred years to be popularized in the rest of France and in England.
This from Gerard´s Herball:
"Poma Amoris. Apples of Loue.
...In Spaine and those hot Regions they vse to eat the Apples prepared and
boiled with pepper, salt, and oile: but they yeeld very little nourishment
to the bodie, and the same nought and corrupt. Likewise they doe eat the
Apples with oile, vineger and pepper mixed together for sauce to their
meate, euen as we in these cold Countries doe Mustard."
And tomatoes seem to have been quite a novelty in Paris at the beginning of
the 19th century, if one is to believe Brillat-Savarin, who says: "This
vegetable or fruit, as one may call it, was almost wholly unknown in Paris
15 years ago." They seem to have been used mostly cooked, in sauces, at that
time.
Nanna
>
>I´ve been trying to remember my (original) source for the Robert Gibbon
>Johnson story; I was quoting from a book I wrote myself so that doesn´t
>count. But I think the point here is that it was a RAW tomato. But I found
>this in Colin Spencer´s Vegetable Book:
>"Reactions in America were, if anything, worse. Long cooking before the
>tomatoes could possibly be palatable was earnestly advised. "Tomatoes will
>not lose their raw taste in less than three hour´s cooking," Eliza Leslie
>wrote in 1848 (in Directions for Cookery). The vinegar and spices added to
>tomato sauce were considered to be some antidote to any lingering poison."
>
Colin Spencer got it all wrong. Eliza Leslie does recommend cooking tomatoes
for two hours in a recipe for "Scolloped Tomatoes" due to reasons of taste, not
due to any lingering notions about poison. No pre-Civil War cookbook author
with the exception of Mary Randolph made a greater contribution to tomato
cookery in America than did Leslie. Later editions of her "Seventy-Five
Receipts for Pastry, Cakes, and Sweetmeats" included recipes for tomato
"sweetmeat" and ketchup. Leslie's "Domestic French Cookery," published in 1832,
included five tomato recipes. Her "Directions for Cookery," originally
published in 1837, contained thirteen recipes with tomatoes as an ingredient.
Later editions added fifteen more. In 1843 "Miss Leslie's Magazine" included
seven tomato recipes. Her "Lady's Receipt-book," published four years later,
included four tomato recipes, and subsequent editions added another five. "Miss
Leslie's New Cookery Book," her culminating work, published in 1857, contained
over thirty recipes with tomatoes as ingredients. In all, she published more
than fifty different tomato recipes during her lifetime.
While the quantity was notable, the quality and diversity of Leslie's tomato
recipes were also significant. Tomatoes were stuffed, hashed, pickled, baked,
scolloped, pickled, broiled, and preserved. They were added to several soups
and gumbos and to many types of meats and poultry products including veal, ham,
pork, beef, calf's feet, and sweetbreads. Tomato ketchup was added to many
other dishes as well. Many were altered from one edition of a cookbook to
another, indicating her continuing quest to improve them according to her
experience.
Does this sound like she had a "lingering" suspicion about tomato cookery?
Spencer simply repeated the words of previous writers. He failed to look at the
original source and he failed to cite properly his secondary sources.
We've been through the Gerard quote at least three times during the last year
and a half, and I just don't want to go into it again. I have summed up my
comments in my next book, "Tomato Soup: The Social History of an American
Icon," which is scheduled for publication by Rutgers University Press later
this year.
I would like to know in what section of Brillat-Savarin's "Physiologie du goût
" appears the quote: "This
vegetable or fruit, as one may call it, was almost wholly unknown in Paris
15 years ago." I've read it twice and missed it both times.
Andy Smith
During the Revolutionary War British agents attempt to assassinate Washington
using the famous poisoned tomato trick. Of course, Washington knows that
tomatoes weren't poisonous, because he ate them as aphrodesiacs in the
Caribbean (They worked, for he fathered Alexander Hamilton, or so the British
believe.) The British know that Washington knows, so they really poison the
tomatoes and dare him to eat them to demonstrate his virility. (The British
previously try an exploding cigar, but then they find out that Washington
doesn't smoke, or have I confused this with another plot?) A Jerry Springer
look-alike jumps in just in time to ask Washington a few questions about his
international affairs and confuse him. Meanwhile, Robert Gibbon Johnson
substitutes the poisoned tomatoes for the real ones... then the plot really
gets interesting... Washington hears about the attempt and thinks that Johnson
has the poisoned ones. He demands that Johnson eat the tomatoes. Johnson does
so on the court house step in Salem, New Jersey, which is why everyone thought
he'd die... but Johnson really has the unpoisoned ones after all. In the
confusion, the poisoned ones disappear. Hence, no one would eat tomatoes from
that day forth because they were afraid that they might be the poisoned ones...
Do you think this plot will sell?
Andy Smith
Huh? I don't get that one at all. Have I missed something?
I've heard about the cigar and the dress, but tomatoes?
Chris,
We're on a roll here. How about using real people to play the roles rather than
actors? Monica could play the hot tomato who offers the poisoned tomatoes to
Washington (Get the Biblical allusions?) Ken Starr could play the Jerry
Springer look-alike. The whole thing could occur in Faunce's Tavern--and the
Soup Nazi from Seinfeld could play Faunce. We could have a British agent who
questions his assignment. The dialogue would be something like this:
To poison the tomato
Or not to poison the tomato.
That is the question.
These are the questions that fry men's (people's?) soles!
How we doing?
Andy Smith
Bob
Istanbul
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usually young, and presumed available, woman.
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