Modern tomatoes are, by almost every measure that matters to a supermarket, a triumph of breeding. Decades of careful selection have produced fruits that are larger, firmer, more productive, and far better at surviving the journey from field to shelf than anything their wild ancestors could manage. Yet that success carried a hidden price tag. As breeders pushed for yield and durability, the crop’s genetic diversity narrowed, and one of the qualities consumers care about most—flavor—proved remarkably difficult to engineer back in. A new study from the Boyce Thompson Institute suggests that what was lost has not disappeared. It is still sitting, intact, in the genomes of tomato’s wild relatives, and researchers have now drawn a detailed map showing exactly where to find it.
The study, published in Genome Biology, was led by Senior Research Associate Carmen Catala and Professor Zhangjun Fei, together with adjunct professor and USDA scientist James Giovannoni. The team set out to answer a question that has frustrated tomato breeders for generations: which genetic controls produce the striking differences in color, sweetness, bitterness, and aroma between cultivated tomatoes and their wild cousins, and which of those controls are worth reintroducing into modern varieties? The answer required the researchers to look not just at which genes differ between species, but at how those genes are switched on and off as a fruit grows, ripens, and develops its final chemistry.
The wild relatives of tomato remain an extraordinary reservoir of traits that domestication left behind. Some wild species pack their fruit with high levels of lycopene, the red pigment that gives ripe tomatoes their characteristic color and contributes much of their nutritional value. Others store sugar in forms and concentrations that cultivated fruit no longer achieves. And some, notably Solanum pennellii and Solanum neorickii, never turn red at all, producing fruit that stays green through maturity. Breeders have long suspected that these species hold the raw material for tastier, more nutritious tomatoes, but importing wild traits into elite lines has always been a gamble, because the same wild chromosomes that carry desirable genes often carry undesirable ones as well.
That tension is at the heart of why wild diversity has been so hard to exploit. As Catala explained, wild tomatoes offer an enormous reservoir of diversity for flavor, nutrition, and resilience, but bringing those traits into modern varieties can come at the expense of characteristics that breeders have spent decades improving, such as yield, fruit size, or shelf life. The way around that trade-off, she argued, is precise information about how the genes responsible for each trait are controlled. If breeders know exactly which genetic switches govern sweetness or pigment, they can move those switches without dragging along the rest of the wild genome.
To build that precision, the research team turned to a classic genetic trick with a modern analytical twist. Imagine every gene as a lamp whose brightness shapes how a fruit grows, ripens, and tastes. A lamp can be dimmed in two ways. One is a dimmer built into the lamp itself—a change in the stretch of DNA sitting immediately next to the gene that controls how strongly that single gene is expressed. Biologists call this a cis effect. The other is a change in the building’s wiring: a trans effect, in which an alteration somewhere else in the genome changes the regulatory signals reaching many genes at once. From the outside, the two look identical, because either one changes a gene’s activity. Telling them apart, however, makes an enormous difference to anyone trying to breed with the underlying DNA.
The way to separate the two is to plug both lamps into the same outlet. The researchers crossed cultivated tomato with each of three wild relatives to produce hybrid plants. A hybrid carries one copy of every gene from each parent, and both copies operate inside the same cells, bathed in the same regulatory environment. If the cultivated copy and the wild copy of a gene behave differently under those identical conditions, the difference must be written into the DNA adjacent to the gene itself—a cis effect. As Fei put it, the hybrid gives researchers a natural controlled experiment: both versions of each gene sit in the same cells and receive the same signals, so any difference in their activity points directly to local regulatory change.
With that framework in place, the team measured gene activity with remarkable granularity. They examined three distinct fruit tissues—the fleshy outer wall, the placenta, and the jelly-like tissue surrounding the seeds—at up to four stages spanning early fruit development through ripening. This tissue-by-tissue, stage-by-stage design matters because a gene that influences sweetness may only act in the placenta, while a pigment gene may only matter in the outer wall during ripening. Averaging across whole fruits would blur exactly the signals breeders need to see.
The results were strikingly lopsided. In every species, every tissue, and every developmental stage examined, cis changes were the dominant driver of differences in gene activity, affecting up to 23.5 percent of active genes. Trans changes, by contrast, affected no more than 4.6 percent. The number of genes showing regulatory differences roughly doubled in the more distant wild relatives compared with Solanum pimpinellifolium, the closest wild cousin of cultivated tomato, consistent with the idea that regulatory divergence accumulates as species drift apart. Many of the identified switches were also highly specific, operating in only one tissue at one particular moment of fruit development—a specificity that could prove invaluable for breeders hoping to alter one trait without disturbing the rest of the fruit.
The regulatory map also illuminates several familiar fruit traits with new clarity. In the green-fruited species, cis changes boost genes that steer the pigment pathway away from lycopene, explaining why those fruits never develop the red color and associated nutritional profile of ripe cultivated tomatoes. Sweetness follows a matched pair of sugar-related genes: one gene that breaks down sucrose and another that blocks that breakdown are regulated in a coordinated way in the green-fruited species, allowing those fruits to retain more of the sucrose that cultivated tomatoes convert. Bitterness, meanwhile, reveals a developmental program the researchers describe as defense early, edibility at maturity. Early in fruit development, trans regulation helps maintain high levels of glycoalkaloids, the bitter defensive compounds that deter herbivores in young fruit. Later, cis changes in cultivated tomato redirect those compounds into non-bitter forms as the fruit ripens, converting a chemical shield into a palatable food.
For breeders, the practical payoff is a shift from fishing to targeting. As Giovannoni noted, breeders have always known that wild tomatoes hold valuable traits, but using them introduces undesirable traits as well, forcing time- and labor-intensive cleanup. What has been missing is a way to tell which of thousands of genetic differences lies behind each trait. With this map, researchers can point to specific genes whose effects operate in specific tissues at specific moments of development and ripening, making selection far more deliberate. To spread that advantage, the team has released its full dataset, including two newly assembled wild tomato genomes, freely available to the research community. The work was supported by the USDA National Institute of Food and Agriculture and the U.S. National Science Foundation. The flavor that breeding left behind, it turns out, was never gone—only waiting for a map good enough to lead breeders back to it.
Subject of Research: Regulatory divergence in gene expression underlying fruit traits of cultivated versus wild tomato species
Article Title: Wild tomatoes still hold the flavor we bred away: new map shows breeders where to look
Article References: Wild tomatoes still hold the flavor we bred away: new map shows breeders where to look. (n.d.). Original publication
Image Credits: AI Generated
DOI: Not provided
Keywords: tomato, wild relatives, cis-regulation, trans-regulation, allele-specific expression, fruit ripening, lycopene, sucrose, glycoalkaloids, Genome Biology, plant breeding, Boyce Thompson Institute
Cite Scienmag News
Juliet Wilcox. (October 2, 2026). Wild Tomatoes Still Hold the Flavor We Bred Away, and Scientists Have Mapped Where It Hides. Scienmag. https://scienmag.com/wild-tomatoes-still-hold-the-flavor-we-bred-away-and-scientists-have-mapped-where-it-hides/
Juliet Wilcox. "Wild Tomatoes Still Hold the Flavor We Bred Away, and Scientists Have Mapped Where It Hides." Scienmag, 2 October 2026, https://scienmag.com/wild-tomatoes-still-hold-the-flavor-we-bred-away-and-scientists-have-mapped-where-it-hides/. Accessed 2 October 2026.
Juliet Wilcox. "Wild Tomatoes Still Hold the Flavor We Bred Away, and Scientists Have Mapped Where It Hides." Scienmag. October 2, 2026. https://scienmag.com/wild-tomatoes-still-hold-the-flavor-we-bred-away-and-scientists-have-mapped-where-it-hides/

