30+ Tomato Varieties That’ll Grow in Just About Any Climate

Let’s get one thing out of the way: I didn’t set out to grow 30+ varieties of tomatoes. It just sort of… happened. Like when you go to the store for one bag of compost and come home with a tray of seedlings, a new trowel, and an “heirloom mystery mix” you couldn’t say no to.

That’s gardening. It pulls you in. You start with one or two dependable plants and before long you’re saving seeds, comparing Brandy Boy to Brandywine, and defending Cherokee Carbon in a way most people reserve for sports teams.

Let’s Talk Tomato Types For Your Growing Zone

So if you’re like me—someone who’s spent more weekends than you’d care to admit coaxing tomatoes out of stubborn soil—this post is for you.

The Gateway Tomato

Most folks start with something like Better Boy or Jet Star—and there’s a reason. They’re dependable. Better Boy is like the golden retriever of the tomato world: loyal, friendly, easy to grow, and always happy to see you. Jet Star? Smooth skin, low acid, and doesn’t crack under pressure (literally).

If you’ve got warm summers and average soil, either one will treat you well.

But once you grow a few hybrids and start getting a taste for something more… let’s say “flavor forward”—that’s when the heirloom bug bites.

The Heirloom Obsession

This is where I went a little off the rails. Heirlooms have personality. They’re not perfect—some crack, some sulk in the heat—but the flavor? Oh man.

Take Cherokee Carbon. Deep, dusky purple with a smoky sweetness. It’s what a tomato dreams of being. Or Paul Robeson, which tastes like it should come with a glass of wine and a jazz record.

Brandy Boy is another favorite—a hybrid heirloom with big fruit and old-fashioned flavor, but more forgiving than its Brandywine parent. I’ve had great luck with it in raised beds, even during dry spells when everything else was wilting.

And then there’s Lucid Gem, which looks like it was painted with sunrises. Orange-yellow skin, red-marble flesh, and a fruity, tropical finish. I grew it just to see what it looked like—turns out, it tastes like something you’d pay too much for at a farmer’s market.

Tomatoes Built for Heat

If you’re gardening where summers hit triple digits and the soil bakes by noon, let me save you some heartache. Choose tomatoes that were bred to sweat.

Phoenix (yes, that’s the correct spelling—no shade to any mislabeled seed packets out there) thrives in heat like it’s on vacation. Doesn’t crack, doesn’t quit.

Florida 91 is another sun-lover. I call it my “July workhorse” because it just keeps putting out fruit when others have tapped out. Same goes for Homestead, especially if humidity is your unwelcome summer companion.

And Arkansas Traveler deserves a mention. Mellow flavor, handles heat and humidity, and doesn’t seem to mind when you forget to water it for a day or two.

Cold-Climate Champs

Now, if you’re somewhere with short seasons or cool nights, you need tomatoes that hustle.

Jetsetter matures fast and gives you ripe fruit before the frost whispers threats. Juan Flamme, a French heirloom, brings tangy citrus-like flavor and ripens early enough for northern growers to enjoy.

La Roma also does fine in cooler areas and is one of my go-tos for sauce. It’s not fancy, but it’s reliable. Like that one neighbor who always lends you the right tool and never asks questions.

Eye Candy You Can Eat

Let’s talk color. Because not every tomato has to be red to earn its keep.

Lemon Boy gives you bright yellow fruit with a gentle tang—great in salads, especially mixed with darker varieties like Black Beauty. Speaking of which, Black Beauty might be the darkest tomato I’ve ever grown. It looks like it belongs on a magazine cover. Rich, earthy, and best when just slightly soft to the touch.

Terra Cotta is another beauty—not flashy, but a warm, rusty orange that looks like autumn on a vine. It’s got a mellow sweetness that makes it a perfect slicer.

Cherries Worth Chasing

If you’ve never had a Sungold, stop what you’re doing and go get some seeds. These little orange marbles taste like sunshine and mangoes had a baby. They rarely make it to the kitchen—mostly because I eat them straight off the vine.

Mexico Midget is another snack-worthy cherry. Tiny, intense, and bursting with flavor. If you’re into preserving, try dehydrating them—they turn into little tomato raisins you can toss into soups or just eat like candy.

And then there’s Barry’s Crazy Cherry, which sounds like a circus act but grows like a dream. Clusters of pale yellow cherries that my nieces go wild for.

Sweet Million and Super Sweet 100 are also worth a grow if you want reliable, sweet, red cherries. Crack-resistant, high-yielding, and almost too easy to grow.

What to Grow Where

So, with all these choices, how do you decide what to plant?

Here’s what’s worked for me:

• Hot/Dry Climates – Phoenix, Florida 91, Homestead, La Roma, Chico
• Cooler/Short-Season Areas – Jetsetter, Juan Flamme, La Roma, Better Boy
• Humid South – Arkansas Traveler, Indian Stripe, Paul Robeson, Florida 91
• For Flavor – Cherokee Carbon, Brandy Boy, Lucid Gem, Paul Robeson
• For Sauce – La Roma, Chico, Cuore di Bue
• For Snacking – Sungold, Mexico Midget, Sweet Million, Barry’s Crazy Cherry

Mix and match based on your space, your tastebuds, and your zone. I always recommend growing at least one cherry, one slicer, and one paste tomato—gives you options come harvest time.

Final Thoughts from a Dirt-Lover

Here’s the thing about tomatoes: once you start growing them, it’s hard to stop. Each variety tells a different story, and every season brings new lessons. Some years are abundant, others are humbling. But even when the hornworms get greedy or the weather throws you a curveball, there’s something incredibly grounding about watching those green fruits blush into ripeness.

So don’t worry about getting it perfect. Try a few, take notes, and grow what brings you joy. That’s the real harvest.

As for me? I’ll be in the garden, chasing down the next variety that catches my eye—probably something weird and wonderful with a name like “Pink Bumblebee” or “Chocolate Stripes.”

Are Tomatoes Fruits or Vegetables?

Botanically speaking? Tomatoes are fruits.

More specifically, they’re classified as berries because they develop from the ovary of a flower and contain seeds. Just like apples, cucumbers, and even pumpkins.

But…

In the kitchen (and legally)? They’re vegetables.

In 1893, the U.S. Supreme Court actually ruled that tomatoes should be taxed as vegetables because of how they’re used in cooking. Most folks eat tomatoes in savory dishes — not desserts — so culinarily, they behave more like vegetables.

So if you’re talking to a botanist, it’s a fruit.
If you’re talking to a cook, it’s a vegetable.
And if you’re talking to a gardener like me? It’s just delicious.