Globalization and parasite diversity

Toxoplasma Gondii Toxoplasma gondii is a protozoan ((From H. Michael Kubisch. Photograph shows toxoplasma dividing into daughter cells. Image provided by Ke Hu and John Murray. DOI: 10.1371/journal.ppat.0020020.g001)) that can infect birds and mammals — although it can reproduce sexually only in domestic and wild cats. It has been estimated that about one in three human adults is infected, although the symptoms are usually minor. However, one particularly troublesome aspect of toxoplasma is its ability to cross the placenta from the mother and infect the growing fetus in utero. This can result in serious consequences in newborn children sometimes leading to heart and eye problems.

A recent study in the US has put an interesting spin on the genetic composition of toxoplasma. Toxoplasma DNA obtained from various chicken populations around the globe points to the existence of four major genetic strains, two found only in South America, one in the rest of the world — but not in South America — and a fourth population that seems to be ubiquitous.

The authors speculate that toxoplasma evolved initially in South America and then spread into Eurasia. The two populations were then separate for a long time. How this early migration might have happened is unclear; perhaps the parasite was carried by a bird. However, the spread of the Eurasian population back into North America, as well as the spread of the fourth population around the globe, could have had only one facilitator: us. At first the slave trade with its crammed and unsanitary ships possibly spread the parasite. Later, cargo ships containing agricultural goods might have given toxoplasma a lift to distant shores: in some locations the proportion of recent toxoplasma arrivals appears higher around port cities than further inland.

Yet another example of how human activity can shape evolutionary events, and contribute to diversity, in other species.

Potato foundation story

You may remember a post a few weeks back on the origins of potato late blight. Now comes news of a DNA study which looked at the origin of the European potato itself.

The spud was introduced into Europe via the Canary Islands in the mid-16th century. The authors of the study compared landraces currently grown in the Canaries, which are thought to be the descendents of those early introductions, with material from Chile and the Andes. There has long been controversy about whether European varieties trace their origins to one or the other of these places.

It turns out the answer is probably both: there were

“multiple early introductions of both Andean and Chilean germplasm to the Canary Islands and to Europe,” said Dr. David Spooner, co-author of the Crop Science study.

Stop the mudness

Stop the mudness is the slogan of the Great Lakes Commission sediment-reduction campaign aimed squarely at farmers in North America. It’s the centre of an op-ed in the Baltimore Sun pointing out the many pitfalls associated with farms that grow monocultures of annuals and leave the soil bare most of the year. What’s pleasing is that efforts to reduce soil run-off will always also increase agricultural biodiversity.

Make more jam

Possibly in response to the previous post about ecological entrepreneurs, a reader recommends The Jamlady Cookbook, by Beverly Ellen Schoonmaker Alfeld. ((That’s not a typo; there’s no space in the title, which is why I am giving full details of the author’s name.)) I haven’t seen it, but it contains advice and recipes for using every conceivable type of fruit. Maybe it will inspire others to become micro-entrepreneurs, although my understanding is that in Europe at any rate, if you propose to prepare food for sale, you have to jump through all sorts of hoops to do so legally.

One thing that has struck me on recent jaunts through the Italian countryside had been the profusion of fluffy white flowers on the elder (Sambucus nigra) bushes. Of course, the Italians make Sambuca from elder, though I can detect almost no elderflower or elderberry flavour in there, only the anise note of licorice, its other main ingredient (beside alcohol). But they do not seem to know about either elderflower champagne or elderflower cordial. I must put them to rights. Maybe they do know elderflower fritters; I’ve been unable to find out. Here’s just the book to help: The Elder in history, myth and cookery, from the ever-wonderful Prospect Books.

While we’re on the subject of books for this sort of thing, I have two stand-bys, admittedly unused for the past few years as I have not had anywhere to use them. One is Putting Food By, by Ruth Hertzberg, Beatrice Vaughan and Janet Greene. If it isn’t in there, it isn’t worth doing. The other is an astonishing book from Britain’s old Agriculture and Food Research Council (when such things mattered). Home Preservation of Fruit and Vegetables contains a good amount of sensible advice and practical recipes.

Eco-entrepreneurs

The Independent newspaper has a great story about people in Britain who are trying to make a buck (or rather a pound, I suppose) from nature’s bounty. There are five examples, ranging from a guy making sloe gin to another who sells a chopped up, boiled seaweed called purple laver (Porphyra umbilicalis). That’s apparently the basis of an intriguing traditional Welsh treat called laverbread. How do these products reach consumers? A separate article – this one in The Times – on country markets provides one answer.