Big heirloom tomatoes come in all sorts of quirky shapes—some look like pumpkins, others like hearts, and a few resemble knotted fists. Unlike most supermarket tomatoes, these heirlooms haven’t been bred for shelf life—they’re all about flavor. Some heirloom varieties have been passed down for over 100 years through generations of backyard gardeners.

You might spot names like “Brandywine,” “Mortgage Lifter,” or “Cherokee Purple”—they sound like horse races, but they’re tomato royalty. Big heirloom tomatoes often have thin skins, which makes them juicy but also harder to transport without bruising. A single heirloom tomato can weigh over two pounds—bigger than a softball and often juicier than a peach.

In blind taste tests, big heirloom tomatoes regularly beat commercial hybrids for richness and complexity. The wilder the color—like green-striped or deep black-purple—the more intense the flavor profile tends to be. Some heirloom tomato plants grow so tall they need ladders for harvesting.

Thomas Jefferson grew heirloom tomatoes at Monticello and recorded his seed-saving methods in his garden diary. Heirloom tomatoes are open-pollinated, meaning the seeds can be saved and replanted with the same result—like a biological memory card. Big heirloom tomatoes often have more seeds and more gel than hybrids, giving them that rich, old-school tomato taste.

They’re especially prized in Italy and France, where home cooks swear by their use in raw salads and sauces. The “Mortgage Lifter” tomato was bred by a mechanic who sold enough of them to pay off his house in the 1930s. Heirloom tomatoes ripen unevenly—some stay green at the shoulders even when perfectly ripe, which confuses beginners.

Big heirloom tomatoes are ideal for slicing—just one thick slice can cover an entire burger bun. Some varieties like “Pineapple” or “Mr. Stripey” have streaks of yellow and red that look like a tomato tie-dye. A garden full of heirlooms often smells stronger and sweeter than one filled with modern hybrids.

Tomato festivals across the U.S. feature contests just for heirloom giants—weight, flavor, and weirdest shape are all judged. Heirloom tomato plants need more space, water, and support—but the payoff is in the taste. Biting into a ripe big heirloom tomato is like tasting summer—sweet, tangy, and dripping with sunshine.

The “Paul Robeson” tomato, named after the actor and activist, is known for its rich, smoky flavor. Big heirloom tomatoes tend to be more sensitive to diseases but are also more genetically diverse. Seed banks around the world store rare heirloom tomato seeds to preserve biodiversity.

Some heirloom tomatoes have green flesh even when ripe, which tricks people into thinking they’re still unripe. The Aztecs were likely the first to domesticate tomatoes, and their wild cousins still grow in parts of South America. Big heirloom tomatoes are often sold at farmers markets because they don’t hold up well in long-haul shipping.

Unlike grocery store tomatoes, most heirlooms are picked fully ripe—which is why they taste so much better. There’s a tomato called “German Johnson” that’s meaty, low in acid, and perfect for sandwiches. Heirloom tomato skin can be a little tougher in dry climates but super tender in humid ones.

Big heirloom tomatoes make great salsa when combined with lime juice, salt, and fresh jalapeños. “Black Krim” heirloom tomatoes have a rich, almost wine-like flavor that chefs love. Some gardeners talk to their tomato plants—especially heirlooms—as a superstition or tradition.

The colors of big heirloom tomatoes can range from golden yellow to deep maroon, often all on the same fruit. Heirloom seeds are often swapped among gardeners like recipes—prized and protected. Eating a freshly picked heirloom tomato still warm from the sun is a peak garden moment.

Some heirloom tomatoes have cracks on top—that’s not a flaw, it’s a badge of juiciness. The “Hillbilly Flame” tomato is orange with red streaks and tastes like citrus-infused tomato candy. Tomato collectors keep journals tracking which heirlooms performed best each season.

Saving seeds from big heirloom tomatoes requires a little fermentation to remove the natural gel coating. Heirlooms often grow slower than hybrids, but their long wait pays off with complex flavor. Big heirloom tomatoes are like fine wines—no two seasons taste exactly the same.

Some heirloom tomato fans swear the flavor is best when tomatoes are harvested just before a thunderstorm. If your heirloom tomato smells like a tomato, that’s a good sign—it means it’s ready to eat. Even the stems of heirloom plants often have a spicy, tomato-leaf aroma that’s unmistakable.

In some rural areas, big heirloom tomatoes are used in friendly neighborhood growing competitions. Heirloom tomatoes bruise easily, so wrap them gently if you’re giving them as gifts. The phrase “tastes like a real tomato” almost always refers to an heirloom.

The seeds of big heirloom tomatoes can be saved for decades and still grow strong plants. Heirloom tomato slices on toast with just olive oil and salt is a summer classic in Mediterranean cuisine. Some heirloom tomato enthusiasts grow 20 or more varieties just to taste the range each year.

Big heirloom tomatoes tend to have irregular lobes or folds, which makes every slice a surprise. The “Aunt Ruby’s German Green” tomato is huge, green when ripe, and has a spicy-sweet zing. Heirlooms are one of the few veggies where “ugly” means “delicious.”

Restaurants often use big heirloom tomatoes as a centerpiece in seasonal dishes. In the South, thick heirloom tomato slices are served with nothing but mayo on white bread. Some gardeners treat their heirloom plants like family, naming each one and tracking its progress.

Growing big heirloom tomatoes connects people to gardening traditions that go back generations. The best-tasting tomatoes often look the weirdest—embrace the oddballs. Each bite of an heirloom is a little bite of history.