He hated tomatoes. He could stomach them sometimes if they were liquefied in a sauce, but he always paid for his impulsive indulgences with a sharp case of heartburn and a marriage to Tums. Otherwise, he never ate tomatoes. As a child, he decided it was the seeds that deterred him. He didn't like the look of them, the way they sort of floated among the red, jelly-like ooze. When he was three, he couldn't understand why someone would eat seeds: "Aren't you planting them in your stomach?" he questioned. Then everyone laughed at him. He hated that too.