A Matter of Taste - Soil: Reflections on the Basis of our Existence - page 118

They need plenty of sunlight or they don't get sweet.
But what about fertiliser, isn't that important?
Not for the taste, but it's important so the plants grow well.
“Who said fertiliser doesn't matter?” interjected the older woman, setting off a heated
discussion. I edged diplomatically to one side and busied myself picking a suitable selec-
tion of tomatoes.
The older woman then came up and suggested I talk to Kent, the owner, whom she
said knew all about the secrets of growing tasty tomatoes. She motioned towards
a forklift truck that was about to disappear through a door so I sprinted after it
and just managed to catch the driver's attention. Looking bemused, he asked me if
anything was wrong.
Not at all. I'd just like to ask you what's the best way to grow good tomatoes. I was talk-
ing to a lady in the shop and she told me to speak to you.
Kent grinned and took me aside to a quiet corner where he explained that it is
important to expose tomato plants to water stress to ensure full flavour develop-
ment. However, this is a balancing act and if you get it wrong, a lack of water will
stunt the plants' growth. Also, the salt content in the water should not be too low
because that causes tomatoes to taste watery. This observation reminded me of the
salty soil in Tunisia that my companion Hafedh always insisted produced delicious
tomatoes—a result of physiological dehydration perhaps. But the most important
factor of all, Kent said, is to allow the tomatoes to ripen sufficiently while still on
the plant. Some of his customers want tomatoes they can store prior to sale, which
requires them to be picked before ripening. Such tomatoes never develop the right
taste. Kent explained that he refuses to compromise on this point and turns such
customers away.
After thanking him for sharing his knowledge, I went off to pay. At the till,
the lady looked through the tomatoes I had chosen, exchanging one or two ropey-
looking ones for healthier-looking specimens before saying goodbye and wishing
me well with my greenhouse efforts.
On the way home I munched my way through the bag. Most of the tomatoes
were nice—considerably nicer, indeed, than the ones I buy at the local supermar-
ket. Best of the lot was an oval-shaped variety named “Santa”. But did they taste
as good as my home-grown ones? When I got home I went out to the greenhouse
and picked a large Black Russian tomato weighing almost half a kilogram. On
cutting through the thin skin, the sweet aroma of tomato wafted upwards while a
well-balanced sweetness filled the palate, a sweetness with which the Rockwool
tomatoes could not compete. Perhaps it was the soil or because I had forgotten
to water the plants properly, or perhaps simply because Black Russian, for all its
exquisite sweetness, has a fragile skin that makes it unsuitable for commercial
growing.
My forays into the world of wine and tomatoes have made me realise that plant
chemistry is a complex matter. Growers and winemakers can create new tastes
and sensations in their produce by manipulating growing conditions. The taste
does not actually come from the soil, but clearly the soil's ability to supply water
and nutrition has an effect on taste and quality. Home-grown tomatoes are tastier