The Roman Vegetable Garden

Joan Alcock says that the Republic’s most popular garden was the Vegetable Garden, but the Empire’s favourite garden was the Flower Garden. ((Or have I got that backward?)) All, however, were very proud of their gardens. Pliny insisted that those who visited the flower gardens were to go through the vegetable garden, the better to appreciate it.

If you have a slave society, you have to keep the slaves occupied, to avoid a revolt. Many of the Roman manuals suggest that slaves pick off greenfly by hand; maybe this was just to keep them occupied. On the other hand, was there any evidence that a barefoot menstruating girl walking round the plants was any more effective at getting rid of pests?

Their tools were more or less the same as ours, and barely needed improvement. Roman spades were wooden, with a T handle and an iron sheath; the sheath and the nails that held it to the wood are generally all that is left.

The Romans were very interested in the medical properties of vegetables. Pliny the Elder spends Book 19 on the vegetables, and 20 and others on the medical properties. Joan spent some months in the hospital last year trying to get the back in order, during which she wondered whether she should turn to Pliny, who said that ashes of bean stalks are good for the back and sciatica. “But he doesn’t say whether the ashes should be eaten or rubbed on the back.”

Romans brought a lot of vegetables into the wild and cultivated them. Carrots and turnips were hard and wooden, but were pulverised in a dish with stones in the bottom. They brought weeds into the garden, and spread their vegetables around the empire, with samples found from forts in Britain and Germany.

Nibbles: Yeast, Weeds, Bioprospecting, Iraq, Pine wilt, Vietnam, GM, GM, Insects, Bees, Sheep, Fowl

Nibbles: Amazon, Aquaculture, Bees, ICTs, Food prices, Dates, Cats, Taro

Tasteful breeding

A couple of days ago the Evil Fruit Lord complained — a little bit — about an article in a Ugandan newspaper which extolled the virtues of traditional crops and varieties over new-fangled hybrids. While not doubting the many attractive qualities of landraces and heirloom varieties, he quite rightly pointed out that there’s nothing to stop modern varieties and hybrids tasting just as good:

I get really sick of the tendency to talk about plant breeding as a process which makes crops into finicky, crappy tasting garbage in exchange for yield. You absolutely can create varieties which taste as good (or better) than traditional varieties, produce more, and resist pests. In fact, plant breeding is the only way to get to that.

Now there’s an article by Arthur Allen in Smithsonian magazine which basically says — not very surprisingly, I suppose — that both those things have happened in the tomato:

Flavor … has not been a goal of most breeding programs. While importing traits like disease resistance, smaller locules, firmness and thicker fruit into the tomato genome, breeders undoubtedly removed genes influencing taste. In the past, many leading tomato breeders were indifferent to this fact. Today, things are different. Many farmers, responding to consumer demand, are delving into the tomato’s preindustrial past to find the flavors of yesteryear.

Allen has a good word to say for the wild relatives:

The architect of the modern commercial tomato was Charles Rick, a University of California geneticist. In the early 1940s, Rick, studying the tomato’s 12 chromosomes, made it a model for plant genetics. He also reached back into the fruit’s past, making more than a dozen bioprospecting trips to Latin America to recover living wild relatives. There is scarcely a commercially produced tomato that didn’t benefit from Rick’s discoveries. The gene that makes such tomatoes easily fall off the vine, for instance, came from Solanum cheesmaniae, a species that Rick brought back from the Galapagos Islands. Resistances to worms, wilts and viruses were also found in Rick’s menagerie of wild tomatoes.

And he also plugs genebanks:

…we can take comfort in the tomato’s continuing, explosive diversity: the U.S. Department of Agriculture has a library of 5,000 seed varieties, and heirloom and hybrid seed producers promote thousands more varieties in their catalogs.

Not quite sure where he got that number, as the C.M. Rick Tomato Genetic Resources Center seems to have about 3,500 accessions, but anyway.