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.

Up in smoke

A paper in Forest Ecology and Management describes how high-quality “briar root” smoking pipes are made from the lignotuber — a starchy swelling on underground stems or roots — of the tree heath, Erica arborea. The best lignotubers, and therefore the best pipes, come from the Peloritani Mountains of NE Sicily. Unfortunately, current management practices — which discourage “grub-felling” and use for pipe-making and charcoal production — have ironically resulted in an increasing frequency and severity of fires. The authors suggest that the cultural and environmental roles of tree heath in Sicily need to be seen as two sides of the same coin and not as being in opposition. What’s happening with cork is another example of the same thing.

The Breadfruit Story

That’s the title of just one of the sections of an exhibition of botanical watercolours, books and prints about the Caribbean called “Paradise in Print,” currently on at the New York Botanical Garden. The story it refers to, of course, is that of Captain Bligh, Fletcher Christian and the Bounty.

For an update on the story of the breadfruit’s global journey, go to VOA News. You’ll find an interview with — and a cooking demonstration by — my friend and world breadfruit expert Diane Ragone, director of the Breadfruit Institute at the National Tropical Botanical Gardens in Hawaii (both text and video).

The Breadfruit Institute maintains the world’s largest and most complete breadfruit germplasm collection. Diane has dedicated her life to the breadfruit, and in particular the idea that it can make a much greater contribution to the alleviation of hunger around the world. She and her research partners have been working on a tissue culture technique for the mass propagation and safe transfer of germplasm.

Micronesian canoe making on the wane

How many plants does it take to make a canoe? Well, according to a great paper in the latest Conservation Biology, the answer is 27, at least in Pohnpei, both wild and cultivated. Unfortunately, canoe-making skills and knowledge are eroding fast: “Given current trends, the present generation of Pohnpeians may be the last to retain any knowledge of this traditional craft.” The authors issue a bit of a challenge at the end of their paper:

Because of the immense scale of traditional knowledge erosion in virtually all areas of the globe, we invite other researchers, conservationists, and development workers to assess the loss of traditional knowledge and practices, identify areas for interventions, and help make those interventions happen in the areas where they work. Efforts at strengthening awareness of the link between culture and the environment can be very helpful in supporting local conservation programs, and important for personal, community, and environmental well-being around the world.

Ecosystems services to the fore

316 1866 F1

The map shows human impact; the percentage of human influence relative to the maximum influence recorded for each biome. I got it from Resilience Science, which got it from Science magazine (where, I confess, I missed it). It deals with reshaping ecological processes on domesticated land. Anyway, rather than write my own version of the paper by Peter Karieva and his collaborators (which is behind a paywall), I point you straight to Resilience Science, noting in passing that I am certain I would not have done as good a job.