- Ancient farmers didn’t have to wait for the genetic diversity that made domestication possible. They selected from variation already present in wild plants, including the ancestors of rice and maize. Domestication was as much about spotting (or happening upon) useful differences as creating new ones.
- English colonists in America called Indigenous dogs “wolves,” revealing as much about colonial perceptions as about the animals themselves. This history of Indigenous dogs shows how unfamiliar animals were classified through peculiarly European ideas about wildness.
- Austria is bringing forgotten apple varieties back to life. Saving old varieties in genebanks is one thing: getting people to grow, sell and eat them is another, but it can be done. Or at least tried.
- Jordan’s olive-oil heritage centres on traditional varieties such as Nabali and ancient Rumi trees, but most production is consumed locally, leaving exports limited and making provenance, cultivar and harvest date important indicators for buyers. Compare and contrast with Austrian apples.
- Small island developing states have distinctive food cultures and ingredients, but face particular challenges in building sustainable and resilient food systems. FAO’s A Taste of SIDS explores the connections between island food, biodiversity and culinary heritage. Nice to see diversity within crops considered, though a few local variety names would have been nice.
Wine from the ashes
I’ve been following the vineyards of Pompeii for quite a while, it turns out. Maybe because archaeology and wine are two of my favourite things. As part of our anniversary celebrations, here’s a recap of the story, as it has unfolded on the blog over the past ten years and more. It was prompted by a recent piece by renowned wine writer Jancis Robinson. It’s unfortunately paywalled, but I found another source.
In 2013, I wrote about the vines I encountered growing among the ruins, planted where archaeologists had found evidence of ancient vineyards: casts of vine roots and the supports on which they had grown. The idea was to reconstruct not just a Roman vineyard, but something of the agricultural landscape that disappeared when Vesuvius erupted in AD 79.
By 2016, the experiment had progressed from vines to wine, and we duly Nibbled about it. The Mastroberardino winery was using archaeological evidence, ancient texts and surviving local grape varieties to recreate aspects of Pompeian viticulture. Some of the varieties thought to have been grown in antiquity were still being cultivated around Vesuvius. The reconstructed vineyards were producing wine too, although the winemaking was sensibly not being reconstructed quite as faithfully as the viticulture.
By 2020, the vineyards had become part of the experience of Pompeii itself, with harvesting and winemaking incorporated into the archaeological site’s interpretation of its ancient gardens and agriculture.
And now, in 2026, the project is entering a new phase. A new partnership aims to expand vineyard production within Pompeii, with around 30,000 bottles a year envisaged. The scale is very different from the experimental 1,500 bottles of a decade ago, but the basic idea remains: use archaeology, surviving agricultural biodiversity and modern expertise to recover something of Pompeii’s lost viticultural heritage.
Pompeii died two thousand years ago. It’s rather wonderful that its vineyards have come back to life.
Joining the dots on food plant diversity
We have access to more kinds of food plants, yet the world’s diets and production systems have never been more alike. That is the paradox at the heart of Food plant diversity in a rapidly changing world, an unusually broad review by Colin Khoury (very much friend of the blog) and colleagues. It has all the latest data, but it also does several other things that make it more than a conventional state-of-the-art paper.
For one, it brings together diversity at several levels that are too often discussed separately: species, varieties and genes, of course, but also the diversity of diets, farming systems, foodways and the knowledge associated with them. It traces the movement of cultivated food plants over the past 12,000 years alongside the much more recent trend towards homogenisation. The result is the weird world we live in today: more kinds of crops available globally, but less difference between what people in different places eat.
Colin and friends also take a hard look at what we don’t know. We have surprisingly little evidence for how much food-plant diversity has actually been lost, how vulnerable today’s production systems are because of increasing uniformity, or what is happening to less visible forms of diversity, such as nutritional and chemical variation. The authors call for better monitoring, including an early-warning system for crop vulnerability. Now where have I heard that before?
And the paper connects the dots between conservation approaches that all too often live in isolation: genebanks, botanic gardens, community seed banks, on-farm initiatives, protected areas, breeding programmes and markets. Genebanks are all well and good, but diversity also needs to keep going in fields, landscapes, cuisines and communities. Again, not particularly new, but it’s good to have it repeated, brought up to date, and placed in the broadest possible context.
A couple of those dots are discussed in more detail in a companion opinion paper, Enhance food plant diversity conservation and use through greater coordination between genebanks and botanic gardens, which asks what might become possible if two of the world’s major plant conservation communities worked a bit more closely together. Which must be possible because they are nicely complementary, so neither should fear the other as a competitor.
The review paper maps the problem. The opinion piece explores a possible route towards a more joined-up conservation system. Which leaves us with its own small paradox: conserving food plant diversity requires flattening some of the differences within a remarkably diverse conservation community. Happy Crop Diversity Day 2026.
Nibbles: Mango breeding, Cambodian peppers, Cold genes, Geechee cowpea, Navajo genebank
- Blue mangoes.
- Kampot pepper.
- Antarctic flowering plant.
- Sapelo Island red pea.
- Navajo seed data.
Nibbles: Museum of Cider, Aport apple, Rattan genebank, Sri Lanka rice, Saudi coffee landscapes
- In the UK, Herefordshire’s Museum of Cider is picking up national recognition for its genebank of heritage apple trees. The BBC’s canonical autumnal apple story comes a little early this year.
- Speaking of iconic apples, Kazakhstan is scaling up efforts to bring back the Aport, the giant heirloom that once made Almaty famous. No word of museums, though. Or cider.
- Over in the Philippines, Department of Environment and Natural Resources is beefing up its rattan genebank to keep pace with demand, with forest stewards in Bukidnon planting seedlings to match. Furniture makers need genebanks as much as cider makers.
- Sri Lanka’s pre-Green Revolution heirloom rice varieties, purana haal, are being eyed for their resilience and disease-management potential. Good thing they’re in the national genebank.
- Saudi Arabia’s Jazan terraced coffee farms are turning into rural and ecotourism hotspots, proving not all agrobiodiversity needs to be in a genebank to survive. But it helps.