Italian fruits and nuts

The latest issue of Genetic Resources and Crop Evolution (GRACE to the cognoscenti) has no less that three papers which use DNA markers to say interesting things about the agricultural biodiversity of Italy, my country of birth and (coincidentally) current abode. I want to talk briefly about two of these today — focusing on opposite ends of the peninsula — because they’re kind of unusual among molecular diversity studies in actually trying to answer a question, rather than just fingerprinting a load of stuff for the sheer thrill of it. In other words, they’re a little bit more than stamp-collecting. No offence to the philatelists among us.

In the first paper, Italian and American researchers wanted to know whether the “Sorrento” walnut variety is really always the “Sorrento” walnut variety. Sorrento is a beautiful little seaside town south of Naples, in the south of Italy. We used to go near there on our summer holidays when I was small. Walnuts are everywhere once you get up into the surrounding hills, and the local variety — or, better said, population or landrace, as it shows a lot of morphological variation — is one of the most famous in Italy. It is now widely planted, and the researchers compared two sets of trees, all commercially labelled as “Sorrento,” from areas 50 km apart: one around Sorrento itself, and one further north near Caserta.

It turned out that, although they looked roughly similar and were called the same thing, the walnuts from these two areas were genetically distinct. It seems that the farmers of the Sorrento region have carried out strong selection for particular yield and quality traits, but the original ancient stock still survives in Caserta. And some walnuts sold as “Sorrento” are probably nothing of the kind at all.

In the second study, conducted way up in the north, an Italo-Swiss team asked itself: what modern wine grape varieties are the descendants of Pliny’s famous “Raetica”? Caius Plinius Secundus (23-79 AD), better known as Pliny the Elder, says in his Naturalis Historiae that before Tiberius experimented with African wines, “Rhaetian” was considered one of the best tipples in the Empire. Rhaetia “comprised the districts occupied in modern times by eastern and central Switzerland (containing the Upper Rhine and Lake Constance), southern Bavaria and the upper Danube, Vorarlberg, the greater part of Tirol, and part of Lombardy.”

The researchers started with the observation that a Swiss cultivar known as “Reze” is very close to “Raetica” etymologically and comes from the right geographical area. They then searched molecular databases for its closest relatives, and came up with four varieties from Switzerland and northern Italy, again all from roughly the right place. Sorting out the possible relationships gets complicated, but it is unlikely that any of these are parental to “Reze”, and much more likely that they are siblings or offspring. Incidentally, one of these varieties — “Arvine Grande” — is no longer grown and is only available in genebanks.

So actually we are not much closer to answering the original question, because we can’t be sure about the “Raetica”/”Reze” connection. But, as they say, the journey is the destination. And for their next step on this journey back in time, the authors are now trying to extract DNA from ancient pips.

Long-crowing chicken origins

You may have noticed a neat new feature on the blog. There’s a “Show on map” link after some of the latest postings which whisks you off to a pointer to the geographic location of the story. Jeremy will say a bit more about how he did it and why later on. I bring it up now because it was the reason why I stumbled on an interesting paper.

You remember that video of the long-crowing chicken from a few days back? Well, how do you geo-tag that? Where does the weird creature come from? The caption on MySapceTV says that it is a pure-bred Totenko cockerel. If you google that, one of the things you get pointed to is a DNA study that suggests that this and a couple of other long-crowers were bred on Okinawa from fighting cocks from southern China or Indochina. Want to see exactly where Okinawa is? Click below…

How the cat became a pet

A DNA study of almost a thousand wild and domestic cats from around the world is helping to unravel the evolutionary history of this most numerous of household pets. There are five wild subspecies of nearest-relatives, including one in the Near East, from which all domesticated cats are derived, though there has been subsequent hybridization of house cats with local wild populations here and there. Modern cat breeds can trace their origin to at least five mothers domesticated in the Fertile Crescent around the same time as agriculture started, over 9,000 years ago. And, coincidentally, there’s news also today of archaeological evidence from nearby Cyprus backing up that date.

It’s a wise grape that knows its own father

In the annals of plant breeding there are many stories that have achieved the status of Truth. Like the discovery of the original pink grapefruit, the parent tree marked forever with a P carved in its trunk, or the Red Delicious apple found in a ditch somewhere. Not quite so well known is the tale of Cardinal grapes. It is a delicious table grape that, so the story goes, was bred in 1939 at the Horticultural Field Station in Fresno, California, by E. Snyder and F. Harmon, by crossing Flame Tokay and Ribier.

Alas, it ain’t so.

Flame Tokay is normally considered a synonym — just another name — for Ahmer Bou Amer, an Algerian table grape. In the course of examining the DNA of a bunch of Mediterranean grape varieties, A. Akkak, P. Bocacci and R. Rotta ((Cardinal grape parentage: a case of a breeding mistake. Genome 50(3): 325-328 (2007) doi:10.1139/G06-145)) discovered that Flame Tokay could not possibly have been a parent of Cardinal, though they cannot show who is either. I don’t imagine E. Snyder or F. Harmon is still around to tell us what really happened. The researchers also prove that Flame Tokay is not merely a synonym of Ahmer Bou Amer but a mutant in at least one gene.

And in other grape news, two scientists in Switzerland are warning that the American Vitis rootstocks that saved the European wine industry from Phylloxera are threatening the survival of native wild European grapevines. ((Arrigo N, Arnold C (2007) Naturalised Vitis Rootstocks in Europe and Consequences to Native Wild Grapevine. PLoS ONE 2(6): e521. doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0000521)) Nils Arrigo and Claire Arnold say that:

The regrouping of naturalised rootstocks in interconnected populations tends to create active hybrid swarms of rootstocks. The rootstocks show characters of invasive plants. The spread of naturalised rootstocks in the environment, the acceleration of the decline of the European wild grapevine, and the propagation of genes of viticultural interest in natural populations are potential consequences that should be kept in mind when undertaking appropriate management measures.

In other words, watch out.

The American rootstocks have already displaced wild grapes from the flood plains of the Rhone, and there may be worse in store.