Why organic tomatoes are good for you

I’ve been meaning to blog this for almost a month. R. Ford Denison (a name to reckon with) blogged about some of his own research that summarizes 10 years of research into the flavonoid content of tomatoes grown conventionally and organically. Bottom line is that the organic tomatoes contained almost double the flavonoids of conventionals. I’m not going to go into whether that’s a good thing or not. Instead, I’ll stress the point that Denison himself makes, about Darwinian agriculture.

Why do the organic tomatoes contain more flavonoids? Maybe because flavonoids play a part in combatting herbivory. And they are often produced in response to pest attacks, rather than all the time. So one reason that organic tomatoes contain more of these compounds — which are believed to be good for human health — is precisely because on an organic farm there are a few pests that attack the plants. No pests, no need for defense, no benefits for human health.

This is just one aspect of what Denison calls Darwinian agriculture, a fascinating approach to the whole question of just what is being selected. There is, as someone else wrote, grandeur in this view of life …

Stalking the wild peanut

A propos of the peanut’s past, it just so happens that one of the great peanut people of the world (as immortalized in this specific epithet) now lives just down the corridor at work. So I showed him that article. He was well pleased to see it, explaining for me how it confirmed previous ideas based on crossing and geography. Then, on the way out, he casually mentioned that seeds of one of the ancestors had been collected only once, and that it had never been found again.

“It’s probably extinct,” he said.

Ipaensis Well, that certainly adds a certain spice to an otherwise moderately routine story, I thought. So at the first opportunity I asked Luigi, who understands these things, to gbif A. ipaensis for me. ((Webbies are well aware of the verb “to google.” To GBIF is not yet a verb, as far as I can discover. Probably not in the present tense, and definitely not in the past. I hereby lay claim to it.)) Quick as a flash, he sent me arachis.kml, a KML file for Google Earth. There were precisely two entries, one for the type specimen at the Missouri Botanic Gardens and one for an accession in the USDA genebank. To me, they looked suspiciously located, on exactly the same latitude but about 45.5 km apart. And while the USDA’s specimen was reasonably near to a stream, Missouri’s was nowhere near water that I could see.

Arachis Ipaensis Luigi quickly confirmed that the Mo specimen, collected in 1971 and thus well pre-GPS, was probably in the wrong place; OK. These things happen. Then he was on the IM again, telling me that I could look at an image of the type specimen (that’s it over there) and that the USDA specimen was “unavailable”.

“What’s that mean?”

“Could be dead. Could be regenerating and they don’t have stock.”

“Bummer.”

“Yeah.”

And then we went about our independent business for a while until he sent “Can you imagine how hard that would have been 10 years ago? Or even 5?”

And it’s true. A few quick clicks, some very spiffy intertube tools, and we had the kind of information that could have taken months to gather back in the day. Information is going to be the life and death of efforts to conserve and make use of agrobiodiversity. And easy though it was to find out a bit about A. ipaensis, we don’t really know anything about the plant itself. Is it drought tolerant? Disease susceptible? Fertile with A. hypogaea? Got good genes?

And, in other Arachis news:

That’ll do, for now.

Probing the peanut’s past

ResearchBlogging.orgMany readers in developed countries probably regard Arachis hypogaea — if they regard it at all — as a salty snack, maybe a source of clarty peanut butter. The peanut or groundnut, however, is a major staple crop in many parts of the world, a valuable source of protein and energy. So of course scientists are interested in its ancestry, not least to help them breed better varieties. A recent paper by Guillermo Seijo and his colleagues confirms what many have long suspected; that the cultivated peanut is a hybrid between A. duranensis and A. ipaensis. ((Seijo, G., Lavia, G.I., Fernàndez, A., Krapovickas, A., Ducasse, D.A., Bertioli, D.J., Moscone, E.A. (2007). Genomic relationships between the cultivated peanut (Arachis hypogaea, Leguminosae) and its close relatives revealed by double GISH. American Journal of Botany, 94(12), 1963-1971.))

The thing is, like many domesticated plants, peanuts have a complicated genome. Peanut has 40 chromosomes. But it is an amphidiploid, an allotetraploid, meaning that it has two sets of chromosomes from two different ancestors, each of which almost certainly had 20 chromosomes. The genome is described as AABB. But which species did the As and Bs come from? Many attempts have been made to find out, most of them involving attempting to cross existing modern species. Based on all that, the most recent monograph on Arachis ((Krapovickas, A., Gregory, W.C. Translated by David E. Williams and Charles E. Simpson (2007). Taxonomy of the genus Arachis (Leguminosae). Bonplandia, 16(Supplement), 1-205.)) names A. duranensis, A. ipaensis and A. Batizocoi as the wild species that grow where cultivated peanuts have the most characters considered primitive. This kind of evidence is generally taken as indicating the site of domestication.

As in many cases, however, there is a powerful belief abroad that if it is in the DNA it is somehow truer. One of the techniques that addresses the DNA directly, and that is especially useful when chromosomes are believed to come from different species, is called genomic in situ hybridization, or GISH. ((Raina, S.N., Rani, V. (2001). Methods in Cell Science, 23(1/3), 83-104. DOI: 10.1023/A:1013197705523)) In essence, this technique allows researchers to see which parts of which chromosomes match a particular target. Seijo and his colleagues used it to see how seven wild peanut species with 20 chromosomes paired up with the chromosomes of the cultivated peanut. Cut to the chase: “Of all the genomic DNA probe combinations assayed, A. duranensis (A genome) and A. ipaensis (B genome) appeared to be the best candidates for the genome donors.”

That rather vindicates the original conclusion. But it raises a couple of rather interesting questions. One will have to wait for another time. But the other is worth posing now. Why has it proven so difficult — impossible, in fact, so far — to reproduce the original cross that gave rise to the domesticated peanut? Synthetic wheat, made by combining three, not two, genomes, has been a huge boon to breeders, giving them access to a whole range of genetic diversity that they couldn’t readily find in existing wheats. Synthetic peanuts might be expected to do the same. But as yet no new domesticated peanuts have been synthesized by crossing the wild relatives. Why not?

An archaeodentist’s take on domestication

Jason at Hominim Dental Anthropology (a bit of a mouthful; hahahaha) has been taking a look at some recent papers on domestication. The papers are, by his own admission, nothing new. We’ve covered some of them ourselves here. What I thought was interesting was the stress on the timing and duration of domestication and Jason’s views of what constitutes “nature” and “natural”. He seems, to me, to be a bit confused as to whether Homo sapiens (just another unique species, as Rob Foley puts it) is a part of nature, or apart from nature and yet with its (our?) own nature.