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" I heard it
through the
AgLine"
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March 29, 2011
·
Heirloom
cult: Are old seeds any better?
·
Japan farmers
grapple with nuclear scare
·
The race is on for tougher wheat
varieties
·
Research probes
how plants fight diseases
·
Cornell
releases two new potato varieties
Heirloom cult: Are old seeds any better?
(thespec.com)
– As gardeners stock up on heirloom seeds for spring, Rob Johnston, the
chairman of Johnny’s Selected Seeds in Winslow,
Maine, would like to suggest an
accessory. Why not buckle up in a 1936 Oldsmobile coupe?
OK, so it doesn’t have seatbelts. But the swoop of the
fenders resembles Joan Crawford’s eyebrows. Better yet, the rest of the
Oldsmobile’s curves are all Lana Turner.
And the technology! Where else can today’s driver find such
innovations as knee-action wheels and a solid steel “turret top”?
Even with all a ’36 Olds has going for it, Johnston said, “I’m not sure how big of a
market there would be” for 75-year-old cars. “It would just be a sentimental
business.”
So to return to Johnston’s
own business, vegetable seeds, why is the back yard gardener buying so many
1936-era heirlooms?
Johnston,
it should be noted, is a fan of heirlooms, which in the broadest sense, are old
varieties of open pollinated seeds that will grow the same plant again.
He argues that his typical customers — small market farmers
and avid home gardeners — have better choices. Modern seeds, generally hybrid
crosses, produce a “more vigorous plant, better resistance to diseases.”
And here’s the heirloom heresy: They often taste better,
too.
Heritage seed buyers could rebut some or all of those claims
— and they do. But agronomy, in a sense, is the least of it.
Seventeen years ago, in the New York Times, writer Michael
Pollan spelled out the economic and environmental hazards of hybrid seeds in an
article that came with a fright-movie title, The Seed Conspiracy.
In the years since, the superiority of certain types of seed
has grown into a kind of orthodoxy among right-thinking gardeners. The philosophy
could be called heirloomism. According to some plant
breeders and seed sellers, it propagated a reactionary — and sometimes confused
— argument about food, farming and science.
The debate may seem abstract. But one question it raises for
the gardener is plain as dirt: What kind of seeds will succeed?
One thing nobody would dispute is that business is booming
in heirloom seeds. Seed Savers Exchange in Iowa, a leading source of heirlooms, has
seen sales “increasing dramatically,” said the executive director, John Torgrimson.
Sales shot up 100 per cent in 2008 at Baker Creek Heirloom
Seeds, a Missouri
garden company that stocks 1,200 vegetable varieties, and the last two years
have brought 20 per cent annual growth, said the company’s owner, Jere Gettle.
According to a survey by the National
Gardening Association, one in five American households with a yard or garden
reports an interest in heirloom fruits, berries and vegetables. But Gettle, 30, contends his generation cares even more about
heirlooms.
“New gardeners, younger gardeners — 90 per cent are
interested in heirlooms and traditional varieties,” Gettle
said.
The appeal is plain to see, not just to taste. The Baker
Creek catalogue can deliver as much wonderment as the Westminster Kennel Club
Dog Show. How can common vegetables come in so many comical shapes and unlikely
colours?
Beyond the aesthetics, Gettle said
his customers espouse “almost a total rejection of GMOs,” or genetically
modified organisms. Further, they don’t want “hybridization in their seed
supply. They want to be independent and be able to save their seeds. They don’t
like the big boys.”
One of the undeniable big boys in garden seeds is W. Atlee
Burpee & Co. The Doylestown, Pa., company
is America’s
largest purveyor of open-pollinated seeds. Chief executive officer George Ball
said heritage seed sales have outpaced the rest of Burpee’s
seed line so more varieties have been added.
But this “third-generation seed man” also seems to relish
acting as a heckler of the heirloom movement. In an op-ed piece in the Des
Moines Register last summer, Ball wrote, “Today, greener-than-thou gardeners
crusade for heirloom seeds while unjustly condemning hybrids. Increasingly,
their anti-science credo has hardened into a Luddite fundamentalism.”
Ball laughs a bit about the bombast of phrases like “greener
than thou.” But he sticks by his main claim.
“Heirlooms were varieties that were so unsuccessful they
wouldn’t be sold today,” he said. “Every product declines until it’s replaced
by new heirlooms.”
That term, new heirlooms, may seem like an oxymoron. Yet
while heirloom seeds stay stubbornly the same, the heirloom brand continues to
evolve.
One of the first print references to heirlooms appeared in a
1949 article in the New York Times, according to the Oxford English Dictionary.
That dictionary’s definition of “heirloom” matches the one used by Seed Savers
Exchange: open-pollinated varieties that are more than 50 years old and have
been handed down through generations.
But that classification describes only a portion of the
13,500 varieties in the group’s yearbook. So Torgrimson,
60, embraces a wider and more useful classification that includes four
categories.
First, there are the family legacies, such as Bakery’s
squash. Emma Adkins, of Van Lear,
Ky., took this striped acorn
cultivar from her mother’s garden and donated it to Seed Savers in 1994.
Perhaps the greatest number of heirloom
seeds come from the second group: old market varieties. A classic
example is the Danvers
carrot. The Fedco Seeds catalogue traces this
vegetable back to Massachusetts
farmers in 1871.
Third is a “modern heirloom” such as the sugar snap pea.
Vegetable breeder Calvin Lamborn developed this
open-pollinated favourite for Gallatin Valley Seed
Co. in the 1970s.
The origins of the sugar snap, a rogue, thick-walled pea,
lie in Torgrimson’s fourth category, “mystery
heirlooms.” These are serendipitous discoveries and field crosses that farmers
and gardeners decide to preserve and plant again.
In the plainest sense, heirlooms are just old seeds. What
has changed is the way we venerate them, said Bill Tracy, 56, a sweet-corn
breeder and professor of agronomy at the University of Wisconsin.
Tracy
estimates that, over the decades, he has grown 75 to 80 per cent of these varieties.
Marketing them as heirlooms, however, is “a new concept, a
concept of the early 21st century,” Tracy
said. Plants are sexually active, mutable things, he explained. They can be
adapted to different climates, soil types and planting and harvest dates.
“The farmer or the gardener has the opportunity to select
the type that is best for their farm,” he said. And “previous generations of
farmers, our parents or grandparents” did just that.
An open-pollinated seed wasn’t an item to be named, treasured
and monastically cloistered. For their part, the seed companies and catalogues,
which were then small and regional, collected seeds from the plants that
performed best from year to year.
John Navazio, 56, a Washington State University
seed specialist and senior scientist for the Organic Seed Alliance, suggests
the growers who developed heirloom seeds wouldn’t be content with them today.
“A 1902 cabbage by Burpee was a perfectly good cabbage by
1902 standards,” Navazio said. “But none of our
ancestors ever viewed these things as done. You never stopped breeding your
livestock. You never stopped selecting your cabbage.”
For the discriminating food shopper, the word “heirloom” has
another meaning. Heirloom vegetables are the delicious ones. These are the turnips
dolled up in magazine photo spreads and honoured by
name on the menus of the better restaurants — even some of the worst ones.
Torgrimson admits he has dallied
with a few hybrids in the past. But “you can’t beat the taste” of heirlooms, he
said. He recalled what a visitor to Seed Savers’ Heritage Farm asked last
summer after biting into a gusher of a tomato: “Why does the tomato in the
store taste like a red rubber ball?”
Bob Heisey, a 62-year-old
tomato-and-pepper breeder for United Genetics Seeds Co., has heard that
question before.
“A lot of the complaints,” he said, “are about supermarket
tomatoes that are picked when they’re green, and gassed with ethylene to
develop the red colour and then refrigerated to keep
them fresh so that they look marketable when they get to the store.”
Heirlooms are not intrinsically more appetizing than modern
hybrids. Heirlooms began as hybrids, after all — a fortuitous cross of two
parents. Modern hybrids, or so-called “F-1s,” are usually proprietary to a seed
company. But this is still the 19th-century genetics of Gregor
Mendel, not genetic engineering.
Heirlooms grow glorious fruit for many reasons. One is size.
An heirloom tomato is often a big, robust plant. The central stalk is usually
indeterminate: It keeps shooting up after setting fruit. Ball, of Burpee,
recalls a customer telling him about a Brandywine
plant that crept into the house through a second-floor window.
An heirloom tomato will also have a lot of leaves, in groups
of three, Heisey said. All that green surface area
translates into a lot of photosynthesis, which means higher sugar levels, one
of many factors that make for a mythic tomato.
A modern, hybrid tomato, by comparison, is typically
determinate in the way it grows: The stem will stop growing. The leaves come in
pairs. Farmers prefer compact plants with earlier and higher fruit yields.
But that’s not the end of the story. As any impatient
gardener will testify, many of those old tomato plants don’t like to be hurried
to make fruit. While they’re hanging around the yard, the foliage can pick up a
legion of common diseases.
As the stricken plant sheds leaves, it has less sugar to
channel into the fruit.
By comparison, some blight resistance has been bred into the
hybrid for decades, Heisey said. Most commercial
types now have resistance, as do many back-yard varieties.
The great bank of heirloom seeds is ripe for fresh creations
and practical improvements, said Navazio of the
Organic Seed Alliance.
“When people say hybrids are better than
the OPs, well, duh! You’ve been throwing all
of your brainpower at developing hybrids for more than 30 years. And the nonhybrids, the OPs, have sat and
languished with almost no one doing any good selection and genetic maintenance
on them. At that point, it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
His organization’s cause is not to romanticize old seeds, he
said. Instead, the Washington-state nonprofit hopes to rebuild the regional
farming culture that invented those cultivars. The place for such a movement to
start, Navazio argues, is the small farm. And the
people to do it are the farmers themselves.
As Siskiyou announces on the front page of its website, “Our
vision is to connect seed growers, gardeners and farmers in a mutually
beneficial relationship to support small-scale agriculture with superior
genetics selected for the Pacific Northwest.”
Put another way, Siskiyou isn’t dealing in nostalgia. What
they pledge to sell is a better seed.
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Japan farmers grapple with nuclear
scare
(AFP
via Yahoo! News) NIHONMATSU, Japan – Farmers are facing the bitter
aftermath of Japan's nuclear emergency, which could see crops left to rot over
a vast swathe of the country's agricultural heartland.
Growing national and international unease about the spread
of radioactivity from the crippled Fukushima
nuclear power plant has led to bans on the sale of produce from four
prefectures.
Farmers working the soil in Fukushima say they are bracing for the
economic impact of the boycott, which has seen their vegetables pulled from
shelves nationwide and a host of countries halting imports.
Tadayoshi Tsugeno,
who farms just outside Nihonmatsu in Fukushima prefecture,
began planting fields full of mitsuba, a prized herb
used in top-end cooking, nine months ago.
"This is exactly the time when we should be harvesting
the plants, but we have no idea whether or not we will be able to sell
them," the 59-year-old told AFP.
"We are being told that we need to get rid of them and
that's going to be expensive. This is my biggest crop, my biggest earner for
the year.
"I planted these in June, so there's been the expense
of farming them since then, which I'm not going to get back if I can't sell
them.
"I won't be able to buy things and I've got debts to
service. It's going to be hard."
Japan's
agricultural sector, cossetted by a protectionist
government and the beneficiary of generous subsidies, is a powerful voice in
national politics, especially through Japan Agricultural Cooperatives (JA)
which lobbies on behalf of its members.
Senior JA officers visited ministers and top lawmakers
Monday to lobby for compensation.
Farmers have long been able to charge a premium to customers
in Japan
and abroad, trading on the country's rock-solid reputation for the quality and
safety of its food.
But the huge tsunami that knocked out cooling systems at the
nuclear power station on Fukushima's coast following the 9.0-magnitude
earthquake more than two weeks ago, has -- for the time being at least -- put
paid to that reputation.
Radioactive vapour from the plant
has contaminated farm produce and dairy products in the region, leading to
restrictions on shipments to key markets in the United
States, the European Union, China and others.
At the weekend, Singapore
extended its ban, suspending imports of all fruit and vegetables from the whole
Kanto region, a large area including greater Tokyo.
Higher than normal radiation was last week detected in tap
water in and around Tokyo,
some 250 kilometres (155 miles) from the plant,
leading authorities at one stage to warn against using it for baby milk formula.
And the radiation threat appears to be spreading, with
contaminated lettuce from Ibaraki prefecture,
produced hundreds of kilometres from the stricken
plant, found at a wholesale market in Nagoya.
The contamination is a further worry for a country already
reeling from the effects of the quake-tsunami, which has killed more than
10,000 people, with around 17,000 people still listed as missing.
Just a few kilometres from Tsugeno's farm, supermarket manager Misako Anzai confirmed she had taken all local vegetables off her
shelves.
"We were told that we should not be selling things
produced in Fukushima,
so we have stopped," she said.
Anzai said they were sourcing
goods from further afield, despite the extra costs, and regardless of the
impact on local suppliers, whose livelihoods depend on the relationships they
have built up over the years.
"Our local producer complained yesterday and asked us
if we could sell his goods. It's sad, but we have to stop," she said.
"We would really like to be able to help... but we have
been told not to sell these things, and we have to think about what customers
want."
Mizuko Ouchi
was loading her basket with fresh produce to cook for her family.
"I think we have to be very careful because these are
things we buy every day," she said. "If I have the chance to buy food
produced somewhere else... somewhere a long way from Fukushima, I think I will."
Ouchi's attitude is exactly what
farmers like Satoru Abe fear.
He was out in his fields pruning pear trees for a crop he
expects will be ready at the end of August.
"I don't know if we'll be able to sell them, but we
have to get things ready or we won't have a chance to," he said.
"All farmers are worried at the moment."
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The race is on for tougher wheat varieties
(The
New York Times) – In 2009, Monsanto, the biggest agricultural company in
the world, did something that had been unthinkable just five years before.
It made a major investment in wheat.
This wasn't the company's first foray into developing more
advanced wheat cultivars. In the 1990s, it had begun research in developing
Roundup Ready wheat to add to its suite to herbicide-resistant crops. But
economics reared its ugly head. Acreage in spring wheat had declined
dramatically, and Monsanto ended the research in 2004.
Just five years later, wheat markets were on the upswing.
Growers began pushing heavily for private investment in research. Monsanto
bought WestBred, a small grain biotechnology research
firm out of Bozeman, Mont., in 2009 for $45 million. With the
merger, Monsanto acquired WestBred's "germ plasm" -- a kind of toolbox of genetic resources that
might improve wheat.
Monsanto gave itself five to seven years to develop genes
that promoted drought tolerance and high yield. The company is now developing
high-yielding, locally applicable varieties, and the next step will be to apply
biotechnology know-how acquired in corn research to begin playing with wheat
genetics, said Claire CaJacob, wheat technology lead
for the company.
"The biggest focus is on drought and intrinsic
yield," said CaJacob. Disease and pest control
-- a factor also linked to climate change -- "is also pretty
important."
In the short term, Monsanto will continue to develop its
germ plasm through advanced breeding techniques,
using molecular markers -- pieces of DNA that 'mark' a certain trait on a
plant's genetic blueprint -- to formulate climate-hardy seeds.
Eventually, the company hopes to develop its germ plasm to a point where genes from corn and soy to improve
yield, drought tolerance and nitrogen-use efficiency can be implanted into the
wheat genome.
Looming challenge to seed developers
Monsanto could start field testing genetically modified
wheat by 2012 and deliver the variety to the market in the next decade, said a
spokesperson for the company.
With not a single genetically engineered wheat variety on
the market, and a pressing need to feed an estimated 9 billion people by 2050,
seed developers are beginning to grasp the challenge looming just ahead.
While traditional wheat breeding has been accelerated by
modern science, it is still no match for the potential of genetic engineering.
Isolating a drought-tolerant or nitrogen-efficient gene through crossbreeding
different species -- even with today's molecular marker technology -- can take
up to 20 years.
In theory, genetic engineering can cut that time in half,
even less. But there are other factors that are keeping genetic engineering
research stalled.
According to Mark Sorrells, a
researcher in plant breeding and genetics at Cornell University,
the major factor holding back the technology is regulation, which can cost
companies millions. More precisely, it costs between $100 million and $150
million to develop genetically engineered crops before they hit the market,
according to a spokesperson for the Biotechnology Industry Organization.
In addition, unpredictable results might require multiple
attempts at placing the transplanted gene into a wheat genome. And although
official reports claim that bioengineered crops are no less safe than
traditional ones, many people -- especially in Europe
-- still refuse to accept them as a food crop.
But despite the costs, scientific uncertainty and public
skepticism, even traditional plant breeders agree that genetic manipulation,
along with age-old methods, is needed to keep the world fed through the next 40
years. The two approaches are complementary; both have their place.
And whether for transgenic or traditional breeding research,
recent private investment in wheat has elicited a sigh of relief for many in
the industry.
"There's only so much public investment that will go
through research," said Jane DeMarchi, director
of government affairs for research and technology at the National Association
of Wheat Growers (NAWG). "If we limit ourselves to just public investment,
we might not see the innovation we need for our crop to reach its
potential."
Hybrid wheat, approaching the 'holy grail'
Like Monsanto, Syngenta, the third-largest seed company in
the world, is looking to corn, wheat's competitor on the global market, for
clues on making heartier varieties. The company is developing a hybrid variety
of wheat -- a cross between two species of the same genus -- that is impossible
to create in nature.
Hybrids are often much more vigorous than their inbred
versions. In the case of corn, the hybrid variety far outyields
its non-hybrid version, and responds better to fertilizer, as well.
"Hybrid wheat has been holy grail for people in wheat
genetics," said John Bloomer, head of cereals for Syngenta. That's because
hybrids are a moneymaker for seed companies, who can resell the choice variety
every year. Otherwise, farmers would simply save the seeds themselves.
Since wheat naturally pollinates itself, cross-pollinating
two parents from different varieties to create a hybrid is impossible without
some genetic prodding. Expensive biotechnology is needed to correct this has
inhibited hybrid research. Syngenta is using its experience from the
development of hybrid barley -- a close relative to wheat -- to develop a
hybrid variety of wheat.
For fighting climate change, research has centered on
strengthening the rooting structure of wheat, enhancing the intake of water,
increasing the plant's biomass and facilitating CO2 absorption.
Last year, Syngenta partnered with CIMMYT, a Mexico-based
nonprofit corn and wheat research and training center, to do some more advanced
wheat research. Using advanced genetic marker technology and traditional seed
banks, the partnership seeks to develop both native and genetically modified
traits for wheat. The company did not disclose its financial investment in the
partnership.
"We're looking at genetics, native traits, GM
approaches, seed care products," said Bloomer. "We're looking at all
the tools possible to make plants utilize water better."
Return to Top
Research probes how plants fight
diseases
(UC
Riverside) RIVERSIDE, Calif. – How exactly bacterial pathogens
cause diseases in plants remains a mystery and continues to frustrate
scientists working to solve this problem. Now Wenbo
Ma, a young plant pathologist at the University
of California, Riverside, has performed research on the
soybean plant in the lab that makes major inroads into our understanding of
plant-pathogen interactions, a rapidly developing area among the plant
sciences.
Her breakthrough research can help scientists come up with
effective strategies to treat crops that have succumbed to disease or, when
used as a preventative measure, to greatly reduce their susceptibility to
disease.
In a paper published in the March issue of the journal Cell
Host & Microbe, Ma, an assistant professor of plant pathology and
microbiology, and her colleagues show that the bacterial pathogens target isoflavones, a group of compounds in plant cells that
defend the plant from bacterial infection, resulting in a reduction in isoflavone production.
An arms race
First, the pathogens inject virulence bacterial proteins,
called HopZ1, through needle-like conduits into the plant cells. These proteins
then largely reduce the production of the isoflavones
and promote disease development. However, by sensing the presence of HopZ1, the
plants mount a robust resistance against the pathogen, including the production
of a very high amount of isoflavones. At this point,
the pathogen must come up with new strategies by either changing the kind of
proteins it injects into the plant, not injecting any proteins at all, or
injecting virulence proteins in a way that helps them escape detection by the
plant. In this way, the virulence bacterial proteins and the plant host engage
in an endless “arms race.”
“One question we are still trying to answer is how at the
molecular level the bacterial virulence proteins promote disease,” Ma said.
“Some scientists have shown that these proteins block signaling transduction
pathways in the plant, which eventually weakens plant immunity. We are
introducing a fresh perspective on this topic, namely, that the pathogens
evolved strategies to directly attack the production of plant antimicrobial
compounds, such as isoflavones, thus compromising the
plant’s defense mechanism.”
Closing the circle
According to Ma, her results can be extrapolated to
understand how plants defend themselves when attacked by pathogens. She is
pleased to be resuming research first studied by UC Riverside’s Noel Keen, the
late plant scientist and a pioneer in molecular plant pathology, who did
fundamental groundbreaking work on understanding how isoflavones
and isoflavone-derived compounds play a role in
defending plants against microbial infection.
“This was an important topic of study about 30 years ago,
but then the topic was dropped by researchers and it lost momentum,” Ma said.
“My lab is now revisiting the problem. Of course, we still have many questions
to answer. We need to fully understand how isoflavones
function to protect plants so that we can design specific strategies aimed at
better protecting the plant.”
Looking forward
Ma’s lab is also interested in understanding what makes
pathogens what they are. Why is it that among ecologically similar bacteria,
some cause disease while others do not? Her lab is also studying how plants
evolve mechanisms to protect themselves from infection, how pathogens subvert
this defense and become virulent again.
“Pathogens get wise to the disease-fighting strategies we
use in agriculture,” Ma said. “This is evolution at work. But with fundamental
knowledge on how pathogens cause disease we can develop sustainable and
applicable strategies to combat disease.”
About Wenbo Ma
Ma received her doctoral degree in biology in 2003 at the
University of Waterloo, Canada. Thereafter, she did
postdoctoral research for three years at the University of
Toronto, Canada. She joined UCR in 2006. Her awards and honors include a
Regents’ Faculty Fellowship at UCR, a postdoctoral fellowship from the Natural
Sciences and Engineering Research Council of Canada, and the W.B. Pearson Medal
from the University
of Waterloo.
She chose the soybean plant to study because the pathogen
she was interested in, Pseudomonas syringae, attacks
the soybean plant. Soybean is the second largest crop and the largest
agricultural export in the United
States. In addition to being an important
human and animal food crop, it is also a major feedstock for biodiesel.
Ma was joined in the research by UCR’s
Huanbin Zhou (first author of the research paper and
a postdoctoral researcher in the Ma group), Jian Lin,
Aimee Johnson, Robyn Morgan and Wenwan Zhong. Zhong is an assistant
professor in the Department of Chemistry.
The research study was supported by grants from the National
Science Foundation, UCR-Los Alamos National Laboratory collaborative program
for plant diseases and the U.S. Department of Agriculture Experimental Station
Research Support Allocation Process.
Return to Top
Cornell releases two new potato
varieties
(Cornell
University) – Kettle-cooked or ridged, salted or flavored, Americans love
potato chips, consuming an average six pounds per person per year.
Breeders at Cornell are helping to feed the nation's
appetite for the crispy snacks -- and New
York's $62 million potato industry -- by releasing
two new potato varieties.
Waneta and Lamoka
-- named after a pair of twin lakes in the Finger Lakes region of upstate New York -- are
especially appealing to potato chip manufacturers because they fare well in
storage and produce a nice color when cut. This is important because chipping
potatoes are harvested in fall, but may not be chipped until the following
spring, said Walter De Jong, associate professor of
plant breeding and genetics.
Lamoka also has a high level of
starch, a trait that is desirable for chipping because it soaks up less oil
when fried. Waneta has less starch, but is also less
likely to bruise, a characteristic that may appeal to farmers in New York, where fields
are stony.
Both varieties are resistant to the golden nematode, a
pathogen present in some New York soil that attacks potato roots, and common
scab, another soil-borne pathogen present nationwide that can cause pits in
potatoes. This gives them a distinct advantage over Snowden potatoes, the
chipping industry standard, which are susceptible to both diseases.
"New York
growers will have a higher quality product to sell," De Jong said.
First crossed in 1998, the varieties have undergone 13 years
of testing, propagation and evaluation. They have been grown on several farms
in trials across the country, and reaction among both growers and manufacturers
has been positive, De Jong said.
Around 40 acres of seed were produced in 2010; that means
that 400 acres of the new potatoes can be planted in 2011, and demand is
already outstripping supply, he said. Each acre yields about 30,000 pounds of
potatoes.
Waneta and Lamoka
are the seventh and eighth varieties to be released in the past decade by the
Cornell potato-breeding program, which develops both chipping and tabletop
varieties. Other recent releases include Red Maria, Adirondack Red and
Adirondack Blue, which have proven popular with consumers due to their novel
red and purple pigmented flesh. De Jong also breeds
for size, shape, texture, and disease-and pest-resistance.
Nationally, 28 percent of the domestic potato crop is sold
fresh; 13 percent become potato chips and 35 percent become frozen fries. The
average American eats 126 pounds of potatoes each year, according to the U.S.
Department of Agriculture.
Almost half of the 20,500 acres of potatoes grown in New York by 150 commercial farmers are made into potato
chips, and many are processed in Pennsylvania
plants, such as Utz and Herr's, De Jong said.
Potato chips were actually invented in New
York in 1853, when railroad magnate Commodore Cornelius Vanderbilt
complained that his potatoes were cut too thick and sent them back to the
kitchen at a fashionable resort in Saratoga
Springs. To spite his haughty guest, Chef George Crum
sliced some potatoes paper-thin, fried them in hot oil, salted and served them,
and the "Saratoga Crunch Chips" became a hit.
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End Transmission