Orto di Casa Cecconi

My first allotment, and then one thing leading to another…

  • When pear shoots go black

    After coming out green and fresh, full of life, pear shoots can suddenly turn black and droopy. The sight is quite dramatic but can really signify anything from harmless to “quick, remove that and burn it!”. Below are two of the most frequent reasons, starting with the harmless one.

    Pear shoot sawfly (Janus compressus)

    Janus compressus, the pear shoot sawfly

    Not to be confused with the pear and cherry slugworm (Caliroa cerasi) about which a lot is to be found on the web (see ie the RHS website), this bug appears to be a more recent concern for English-speaking orchardists.

     
    Wilted pear shoot with holes in a spiral pattern

     

    While unlikely to become a problem in a healthy, biodiverse orchard, this insect inflicts damage on the new shoots that causes them to turn black (or dark brown) and droopy to resemble a shepherd’s crook, which is also the most famous symptom of the dreaded fireblight (see below). There is however an easy tell tale sign that can put your mind at rest: at the base of the drooping and wilting shoots there is a series of spirally arranged punctures, where the female laid her egg.

    An open source paper* describes the life cycle of this bug:

    • Adults emerge around the end of April and fly for a long period of time, up until June.
    • The female lays an egg in a shoot, or sometimes in a pear that is just about forming, which turns black and dies (also happening with fireblight).
    • The egg takes about two weeks to hatch and the larva lives its life in the shoot, eating it from the inside.
    • In September, it makes a hibernation chamber in situ for its winter sleep, then in March it starts pupating. The cycle starts again.

    I have often wondered why, when studying horticulture, I was forced to learn spraying methods instead of the lifecycle of bugs, which is obviously the way to empower someone to develop suitable management strategies…

     

    * Kovačić Jošić, Dragana & Almaši, Radmila & Trkulja, Vojislav. (2017). Contribution to knowledge of the morphology and of the biology of pear shoot sawfly (Janus compressus Fabricius)

    Fireblight (Erwinia amylovora)

    I had a very unpleasant experience with this disease. In April 2022 a black bleeding lesion appeared midway through the trunk of one of my pears. I won’t lie: I did panic and removed and disposed of the little tree there and then. 

    Maybe I could have saved the plant. Anyway, that’s the benefit of hindsight. I spent that whole summer obsessively checking all pears and my apples for infection while researching the disease. I would terrified it would spread and destroy my beloved collection. I got my neighbours to remove a young pear tree they had got for free during the Covid lockdown, a sickly plant that was likely responsible for introducing the bacterium on site. I also stopped grafting apples on M9/26 rootstocks, in favour of the less susceptible M7.  

    Fireblight is so called because bad infestations can make the plant look like it’s been through a blaze. This bacterium hails from the US, so the best ID photos and management information are to be found on the websites of US universities’ agricultural extensions (ie. Cornell which provides excellent life cycle graphic, or Purdue). That information is meant for commercial growers, so they are quite liberal with their advice on chemical treatments. The RHS suggests there are no chemical treatments available (to the hobby grower), which is definitely the more sustainable approach too. Bacteria are killed with antibiotics, but we do know that extensive use of those tends to let ‘superbugs’ emerge, like MRSA.

    E. amylovora is a disease of the Rosaceae family more generally, even if it affects mainly pears, apples and some ornamentals like Photinia and Pyracantha (I did briefly write about it when I first encountered the disease at Kew). There is some disagreement whether it might affect stone fruits, like plums. The reason why this disease is particularly nasty is its ability to travel inside the plant – spread systemically is the technical term for that.

    The bacterium survives in inactive overwintering cankers, like the one on my little tree, which I had not spotted before. When temperatures rise, from spring onward, it awakens, multiplies and, given the right humidity, start to ooze from the cankers. Oozing is not common occurrence in cankers of pear and apple: it did make an impression on me.

    Oozing cankerous lesion with ants
    Black and cracked canker area

    That ooze (clear/white maturing to amber) is attractive to insects, which spread it around. You can see ants in the pictures above. The disease is also spread locally by splashes, be it rain or watering (ie sprinklers).

    From this early source the disease ends up in the flowers, through which it may enter young stems; in countries where the flowering seasons is quite cold, the risk is mainly associated with secondary or late flowering, aka rat tail bloom, particularly where hawthorn is also present. Natural openings in young shoots, wounds and damaged tissue (ie frost and insect damage) also provide entry points, and the cycle can continue – given the right conditions – until autumn.

    Affected shoot, dead leaves clinging to it
    Possibly affected fruitlets

    Sappy, fast growth is particularly susceptible to the disease. The advice for its cultural management is therefore to:

    • prune moderately, so as not to cause too many water shoots;
    • prune in the winter and dry weather when the likelihood of infection is minimal;
    • feed judiciously, avoiding too much nitrogen.

    Although the infection seems often to stop within the new shoots, the spread of fireblight inside a mature plant can be rather fast (and ahead of symptoms) in the right conditions. Therefore, when removing any canker on mature wood in the growing season, it is advised to do it with ample margin, ie 30-60 cm lower than the last visible symptom. As pruning wounds remain, rather unfortunately, a possible infection site until they heal, a suggestion is to leave a snag when pruning a branch, rather than properly removing it all the way down at the collar. The snag can then be cut back safely in the winter. 

  • Peach leaf curl (Taphrina deformans)

    Another plant species that is commonly known to suffer from red, curled up leaves in the spring is peach.
    The curling up is caused by a fungus, Taphrina deformans. The fungus, which favours cool and wet weather, causes leaves to pucker; the blisters are often red and rather showy, just before the fungus starts producing spores, which gives the affected leaves a sickly yellowish look. Although a handful of affected leaves can be removed and do not cause plenty of damage, if left untreated the fungus comes back year after year, having survived on the plant surface and on plant debris, and weakens the plant considerably.

    Peach leaf curl on a Saturn peach

    This is the reason why peaches and nectarines tend to be grown under glass, or – like they did at RHS Wisley – get covered from November to May. I did write about helping with putting up lean-to shelters to protect the trees a few years ago.

    If planting outdoors, one would ideally choose a resistant cultivar.

    I made an experiment growing peaches and nectarines from the stones of some fruits I liked, as apricots and peaches come true to seed, or at least very close.

    Saturn peach after repeated infections

     

    The Saturn peach I grew is very susceptible to leaf curl. The first couple of years I treated the blisters with an infusion of garlic with a few drops of added tee tree oil: this desiccates the blisters and the leaves grow on healthily, provided the weather stays dry enough. It is however only feasible for minor infections as you don’t want an antibacterial/fungicide sprayed extensively, for how ‘natural’ it might be. I had hoped the tree might grew out of it but it didn’t, and despite a handful of flowers, it has never fruited.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Having grown two nectarine plants from seed that seem immune to the fungus, I have now decided I will get rid of the peach as it’s not worth it.

    You can read more on T. deformans on the RHS, Missouri Botanical garden (which helpfully mentions that occasionally it may be aphids that cause leaves to pucker: look under the leaves!) and UC IPM websites (offering a detailed lifecycle).

  • Pear pests and diseases

    One of the joys of horticulture is the continuous learning process you go through while caring for and observing your plants through the seasons, year after year.

    One of the frustrations is that we seem to know rather less than we think we do about plants and the environment: it is sometimes difficult to be sure what you are looking at, and the advice you receive from all and sundry is frequently contradictory. My rule of thumb has now become: the more assertive and vocal someone is about their opinion, the more suspicious you have to be about what they say. I mean, just double (or triple) check it. After all, only science can give you a definitive answer: a lab for diseases, and entomologist for pests.

    Besides, at times more than one pest, or a combination of pests, diseases and disorders can simultaneously affect a (poor!) plant, especially if it is weakened by poor growing conditions (drought, wet feet, poor soil, etc) or if – as a variety – it is particularly susceptible.

    Pears have been at the centre of my attention in the last few years, what with getting more of them and having to fend off whatever enemies they seemed to be under attack from without extensive knowledge, so I’ll talk a little about them.

    Spoiler alert: in most cases nothing needs doing. We just need to unlearn the involuntary reflex that pushes us to reach for the chemicals’ cabinet. In a biodiverse orchard where there are enough predators, and where plants have enough food, water, light and air, most problems sort themselves out. Sometimes judicious pruning at the right moment can help.

    Pear blister mite (Eriophyes pyri)

    Blistered and blackened pear leaves

     

    I’ll introduce you here to pear ‘Beurré Hardy’. I received it as a gift by a loved one, as a result I am quite attached to it.

    The summer I was getting ready to leave the UK, it was quite badly affected by pear blister mite (Eriophyes pyri), so instead of bringing the plant with me, I propagated it from a healthy shoot in the summer, before the mites started leaving the old leaves on which they were feeding and went on to look for overwintering shelter in the bud scales (see lifecycle on RHS website).

    The new plant grew quite vigorously and healthily on in its pot for a year .

     

     

     

    Curled up leaves, pink with blisters

     

    I planted it out in the winter, then all the leaves that emerged the following spring were pink with blisters and curled up. It turns out some pear cultivars are more susceptible to the mite. ‘Doyenne de Comice’ is a known one, but it does appear – from my own conversations with other owners of ‘Beurré Hardy’ trees – that this cultivar is another one.

     

     

     

    My drastic decision was to cut the lot back to a branch as close as possible to the grafting site to get rid of all the bugs. Luckily, my little tree took it in its stride and is now thriving. It gave its first few pears last year and there are quite a few this year too. All’s well that ends well.

    Pear leaf midge (Desineura piry)

    While I was researching this post, however, I found out there is another pest that causes curled up, pink leaves: the pear leaf midge (Desineura piry), which, quite appropriately for the case at hand, is described as “Important on nursery or young trees during establishment”.

    My new information came from a rather lovely guide to the pear ecosystem by HDC called a “Crop walkers’ guide” (2014). I suggest that you download it if you are interested in pears, as it lists quite conveniently not only pests and diseases but also the predators that deal with them. It is a bit thin on details, so I looked around further and noticed that Oregon State mentions that the curling is mostly to be noticed in the summer, so my little tree was likely not affected by the midge after all.


     

    In any case, armed with my new knowledge, the next time I see curled leaves on pear I will try and have a closer look to investigate what the problem might be. The midge, unlike the mite, is visible to the naked eye.

    More detail pictures of both E. pyri and D. pyri are available on another great resource, the Plant Parasites of Europe website.

     

     

  • A new phase: mission statement and privacy

    It’s been a long time since I last wrote a blog post of my own.

    This blog started off as a way to share my enthusiasm as I took my first steps in the world of allotment growing (Orto di Casa Cecconi means: the plot of the Cecconi household). When I became a professional, the blog turned into a diary, sharing my own learning and providing future reference.

    Then I moved (with most of my plants), and I had a phase in which I tried to acclimatise, writing and speaking more Dutch. However, English remains my first language, the one I am most comfortable communicating in, so here I am, hopefully a little bit wiser. After all, when you go into some depth into another language, you do learn different ways of looking at problems, different ways of doing things.

    A wide angle photo of one of my three plots with bike parked on the path that divides them

    I also have 6 more years of experience of gardening, particularly with fruit: I have a small collection of apple trees and dare say I am specialising in fruit. In fact, I hardly ever grow veg any more, even though I am keen on expanding my herbs’ collection. I am also gardening under slightly different environmental conditions here in the Netherlands (continental climate, peat and clay soil etc.). What has not changed is my passion for growing from seed (everything about seeds really) and good pruning.

    For the last year and a half I have written the newsletter for my allotment site, putting some extra thought in what kind of horticultural information people might be looking for. I sit in a couple of gardening groups and I observe the questions that come in: it’s often the same question, over and over again, at a particular time of the year – we all have the same problems! So that is what I will try to do here: address some questions about plants, pests and diseases, and good practices that are of interest at a particular time of the year. To start with, I will reuse some material I researched for and wrote in the newsletter already. I do reserve the right to throw anything in that I care about, that catches my fancy, and the odd anecdote. What you will NOT find is what gadgets to buy or any influencers’ hacks: if you are after that sort of stuff, better be on your way, as I hate all that with a passion.

    This blog was migrated from Blogger to WordPress and am I ironing out the little snags – please bear with me.
    The content is published under a BY-NC-ND Creative Commons License.
    The site is hosted in the EU (migration to be completed over the summer), I do not use AI or optimise for search engines and I certainly do not track visitors (WordPress does use some cookies though, see their privacy policy).

    I hope you feel welcome here and enjoy my content.

  • Apologie van een tuin

    (this is the one and only post in Dutch on my blog)


    Iemand noemed mijn tuin ‘een puinhoop’. Volgens die iemand, doe ik niet genoeg om mensen te laten weten wat ik ben met mijn tuin aan het doen. Daroom denken mensen dat mijn biodiverse tuin is een ‘puinhoop’. 

    Mijn oppottafel
    Ook, maak ik mijn potten niet elke keer lekker netjes in een stapel. Dat is ook niet goed, hoor!

    Ze heeft natuurlijk gelijk, die iemand. Anders doen moet altijd uitgelegd worden. 

    Maar vooral als buitenlander, want mensen kijken naar ons vaak met wat wantrouwen. We zijn pontentieel vies of verkeerd. Als we niet precies passen, dan zijn ze bang dat we gevaarlijk voor hun cultuur of maatschappij zijn. Het is overal zo, zelfs als ik dat moeilijk te accepteren vind, want ik denk nooit aan mezelf als een buitenlander, maar als een gewone inwoner. De verantwoordelijkheid ligt bij ons te bewijzen dat het niet zo is.

    Mijn manier van tuinieren heeft niks te doen met mijn land van herkomst, hoor: ik ben gewoon mezelf – mijn oude tante in Italië wou ook mijn tuin een puinhoop noemen, maar een tuin is geen keuken, zeg ik: netjes is voor thuis binnen. En dat is anders, dus moet ik uitleggen. Ze heeft gelijk.

    Ik ben nu in Nederland net over anderhalf jaar geweest. Ik vind het moeilijk om complexe concepte uit te leggen. Ze zijn ook complex in het Engels. Maar ik ga proberen hier wat te schrijven over mijn principes. Dan kan ik mensen laten lezen want ik tuinier in dit manier.

    MIJN GEBEDSRUIMTE 

    Let eens op de vogels. Die maken zich geen zorgen over wat zij moeten eten. Zij hoeven niet te zaaien of te oogsten of te bewaren, want God geeft hun wat zij nodig hebben. U bent voor Hem toch meer waard dan de vogels! – Mattheus 6:26

    Als ik dachte erover hoe dit uit te leggen, dachte ik aan de metafoor van religië. Mijn tuin is mijn gebedsruimte. Als ik op mijn tuin ben, ben ik in gesprek met mijn god. Mijn god heeft alles in de tuin gemaakt. Het is mijn rol alles te warderen en beschermen zoals mogelijk: vanwege dat, het minste doe ik, het beste zal de natuur doen. Voor mensen die niet religioos zijn, heb ik daar over de milieu en biodiversiteit. 

    Oogst van gisteravond…

    Mijn succes is afgemeten aan de meeste planten die blijven tegelijkertijd blij, de meeste levende wezens die bezoeken mijn tuin, dan is god blij met wat ik doe, en ik ga goed oogst krijgen. Op dit moment, mijn puinhoop geeft (naast beestjes en wildebloemen) tomaten, komkommers, muismeloentjes, sla en andijvie met allerlei bladeren en eetbare bloemen, blauwe en wijnbessen, bramen, snijbiet, snijbonen, courgettes, kruiden (zoals munt, citroenmelisse, citroenverbena, thijm, basilicum). Pruimen waren er ook genoeg voor conserveren en zoete maïs is aan het komen.

    … en vanavond wat meer
    Ik probeer te genieten van alle planten, van alle wezens. Ik weet dat ze zijn allemaal belangrijk voor wat ze doen, of ik er dat zie of niet. Als ik maak éen dood (bijv. een vervelend muisje in de kas) dat weet ik nog. 

    Genoeg met religië. Ik ben eraan nooit te goed geweest. Maar ik ga geen stikstof of bestrijdingsmiddelen gebruiken, noem dat mijn religië, als dat maakt het makkelijker.

    ONKRUID OF STREEKVOEDSEL?

    Ik wil biodiversiteit mij te helpen.

    Er is niet maar bijen! Meerdere wezens bedoelt meer balans, d.w.z. er is een grotere kans da ze eten elkaar en niet mijn oogst. Want wezens eten wel. Ze eten wel de hele tijd, door hun hele leven. Dus moet ik de gehele jaar eten voor allerlei wezens op mijn tuin aanbieden, die niet mijn gewassen is. Anders eten ze mijn eigen planten of, ergst, gaan ze weg en misschien komen ze nooit terug (bijenhotels zijn niet genoeg zonder wat eten dichtbij – mensen wonen toch niet te ver van hun kantoor!).

    Ook, anders dan ik, zijn de wezens autochtoon. Daarom heb ik streekvoedsel voor ze nodig. Wij mensen noemen dat *onkruid* – echt gek hoor! 

    Malva sylvestris – groot kaasjeskruid
    Verbena hastata – blauwe verbena
    Je zie heel veel ‘onkruid’ op mijn tuin. Die is de reden. Ik zie deze planten niet als onkruid, maar als streekvoedsel.

    Ik wil geen last voor anderen tuinders creëren, daarom heb ik een tuin die relatief ver is van de anderen. Ook, ik leer goed van alle planten dat zijn op mijn tuin. Ik heb daarvoor 10 jaar tuinbouw geleerd, en ik leer elke dag wat meer. 

    Ik doe het niet altijd recht, niemand doet, toch? Maar ik probeer ernstig. Mijn tuin is niet onbeheerd. Ik begrijp dat dat is niet vanzelfsprekend, maar het is wel zo. 

    Ik kijk eerst om planten en beestjes te leren, dan doe ik wat. Als ik opvolg, probeer ik te geloven dat het komt vanzelf, zonder mij, goed. Het is niet makkelijk, hoor! Ik ben ook een control freak. 

    Maar je kan niet alles in de natuur onder controle krijgen (was je eens een weekje op vakantie, en kwam terug naar een wilderness in jouw – vroeger zuiver – tuin?!? Hoe frustrerend was dat?). Het komt goed, vanzelf.

    BESCHERMEN DE BODEM

    Onkruid zijn meer dan maar streekvoedsel voor lopende en vliegende wezens  (een voor mij: sommige vind ik heel lekker, zoals brandnetel en paardebloem). 

    Er is een hele fabriek van tuinaarde en meest: het ligt onder onze voeten. Ik leerde dat plantenwortelen zijn niet passief in de bodem. In de verleden, dachten mensen dat planten voor voedsel vechten. Dat is waar, maar – zoals mensen – ze doen ook wat om de bodem een andere planten en wezens te helpen. Ze noemen het de ‘wood wide web’ want het is meestal onderzoekt in bossen, waar de bodem is altijd beschermd en vaste planten leven. 

    In tuinen we verstoren de bodem altijd. Graven is volgens mij het ergst. We hebben klei: dat is de voedselrijkste sort van grond (zand is het voedselarmste). Maar die doe niet goed wanneer de grond is gegraven, omdat wordt hij makkelijk verdicht, dus weiniger water en zuurstof gaan door, wat bedoelt leven is minder mogelijk. Er kunnen daarin mindere biodiverse wezens leven. Kale grond is ook makkelijk doorgespoeld en mest is dan nodig. Onkruid beschermt de bodem.

    EEN KRINGLOOP 

    Er is op mijn tuin geen afval. Alles wordt terug in omloop gebracht. Wat groeit op mijn tuin neemt voedsel eraf, dus moet hij na dood voedsel naar de boden weergeven. 

    Ten eerste, heb ik daarvoor een grote composthoop. 

    Dan heb ik een ‘wormery’, waar ik groente en fruit skil composteer, die vloeimest geeft en compost. 

    heuvel van houd, zand en tuinaarde
    Daarna, probeer ik houd – van de vele planten die ik ben aan het verwijderen – te gebruiken om hügelkultuur heuvels te maken, om aardbeien en frambozen te groeien. Ik heb dat gezien in Droevendaal boerderij van Wageningen Universiteit, waar ik studeer nu biologische landbouw.

    Ten slotte, woekerende onkruid heeft ook een plek in mijn kringloop: ik verdrink wat, om vloeimest te maken (zamen met brandnetel, smeerwortel en paardenstaart: prima stof voor de kas!).  Andere smoor ik in tuinaarde zakken tot ze wel dood zijn, voordat ze ook in de composthoop gaan. 

    De ene onkruid die linea recta in de restafval gaat, is Japanse duizendknoop, want er zijn bepaalde maatregelen voor hem.

    PLANTEN FIRST, BEEST(JE) SECOND

    Als het druk is en ik mijn tijd moet delen, planten komen eerst in mijn to-do lijst. 

    Toen ik vorige jaar de tuin kreeg, was mijn eerste gedacht planten te snoeien (ze waren vreselijk gedaan: niet goed voor hun gezondheid en productiviteit) en mijn potplanten in de grond te zetten. Er was wel veel meer te doen, maar… prioriteiten! Ik ga altijd voor de gezondheid van mijn planten eerst zorgen: i.e. het gazon kan wachten, maar ik moet wel wateren.

    Het gazon in juni dit jaar
    Over het gazon: ik volg de ‘geen maaien tot juli’ principe want wildebloemen moeten eerst zaden krijgen. Zie je? Ik beheer volgens principes die een reden hebben. 

    Zelf met snoeien en borstelen snijden: voor augustus is het broedseizoen, daarom laten staan: vorige jaar was er een merel nest en dit jaar die van een ende (schrok me dood van haar!) in de oevers bij mij.

    Snoeien is wel m’n specialiteit, ik heb het in Engeland van deskundigen geleerd, dan zelf lessen gegeven. Als iemand is geïnteresseerd, doe ik het graag hier ook.

    Ik geniet ook van plant vermeerderen, en ik ben tevreden mijn extra planten te delen.

    Nieuwe planten en methoden probeer ik vaak.

    UITEINDELIJK, DIE IS MIJN TUIN!

    Ik houd van mijn tuin, ik vind die mooi zo. 

    Nederlanders zijn nuchtere mensen, toch? Dan kan ik het zeggen. Ik betaal om een rustige plek te hebben waar ik kan mijn planten groeien, voedsel oogsten en zelf bewegen – die heb ik nodig. Ik geniet van de biodiversiteit en neem heel veel foto’s die ik deel op sociale media. Ik ben tevreden mijn keuzen uit te leggen: kom voor een praatje in mijn slecht Nederlands! 

    Mijn tuin is toch geen ‘show garden’.

    Als mensen vinden dat mijn tuin ziet niet mooi uit, even maar ergens anders kijken! Het is een grote plek en mijn tuin is niet makkelijk bereik- en zichtbaar: je moet hem gaan zoeken!

    Dit is een vrij land; we zijn er wel trots op…  Ik zie ook tuinen die laat me huilen, maar we doen het allemaal anders. Je bent vrij om te denken dat mijn tuin is een puinhoop: hij is wel mijn geliefde, productive en biodiverse puinhoop. 

    Ik doe geen kwaad: ik vervuil niet, ik doe niks ongezond of gevaarlijk. Ik ga mijn best te doen om anders geen last te geven, maak me veel zorgen om alle maatregelen goed aan te houden. Ik ben beleefd en respecteer hoe andere mensen doen, luister (dit post is proef ervan!) en leer – ik wil andere mensen mij ook te respecteren. 

    Foeniculum vulgare – Venkel
    Cosmos sulphureus

    Bloesemende amarant/andijvie
    Nasturtium

    Dat is niet te zeggen dat er nog wel veel werk is te doen. 

    De vorige eigenaren hebben veel interessante planten gekozen, die vind ik leuk. Maar er zijn planten die waren (meestal) in de jaren 70 populair, voor ze waren gevonden woekerend te zijn, zoals Japanse duizendknoop (Polygonum cuspidatum), maar ook afghaanse duizendknoop (Polygonum polystachium), dwerg bamboe (Pleioblastus sp) en mourasanemoon (Houttuynia cordata). Ik houd ze in det gaten en ga over de tijd wat te doen: ik heb wel meer ruimte nodig om mijn appelboom collectie en allerlei bessen te planten! Ze zijn nu in potten en hebben heel veel water en mest nodig.

    Behalve voor Japanse duizendknoop. Deze zijn we sinds volgende jaar, toen die ontdeckt werd, druk bezig om dringend en voorzichtig te verwijderen.

    TE VEEL WERK?

    Is it te veel werk? word ik gevraagd. Het is een grote stuk land.

    Ik had dezelfde groot volkstuinen in Engeland. Volkstuin*en*, want ze waren drie stukje land in twee tuincomplexen. Ik begon in 2007 met 250sqm (“ten poles” genoemd), dan kreeg meer, en nog meer. Want mijn droom was een fruitgaard.

    Mijn eerste tuin toen ik hem kreeg…
    … en mijn tweede op dezelfde complex
    Volgens mij is tuinieren geen rustig zitten in een tuin. Als er niks te doen was, zou ik niet geïnteresseerd zijn. Voor mij is de lol precies in het werken. Grote projecten in de tuin vind ik stimulerend, anders had ik deze bepaalde stuk Breeveld nooit gekozen! Niemand anders wilde hem, werd ik gezegd.

    Maar het word wel andersom met druk… ik kan niet tuinieren als ik opgejaagd word, want er is geen plezier ermee.

    Dus heb ik geen haast om mijn tuin ‘klaar’ te zien. Ik ben van plan om wat te doen, en ik geniet van de verandering over de tijd, en de nieuwe projecten, die worden inmiddels gevormd in mijn hoofd. 

  • Organic, local, artisanal bread

    When I first came to Woerden I was very excited by the presence in town of an artisanal baker that uses organic flour.

    At a time when it’s all too common for supermarkets to sell heated up frozen, partially pre-cooked industrial or semi-industrial dough, he is so ‘real’ that he doesn’t even have a proper shop, but sells from the workshop. He’s not open every day of the week either, but does make delicious bread, so we have been getting all our bread from him for the last six months.

    Bread from this morning, still warm, but as you can see I couldn’t resist!

    My excitement at finding an artisan that you can actually see make the food, is shared by many. Considerably fewer, however, get excited at the thought of said local artisan using organic flour. Probably few have even noticed I said ‘a baker that uses organic flour’ and not an ‘organic baker’. And what is organic bread anyway?

    Expectations and trust

    As you go about buying food you have expectations: it must look good and be tasty. For most it has to be cheap, by which they mean affordable*. For some it must be nutritious and/or healthy. Especially if you have enough money to comfortably get by, you probably also want it to be good for the environment. And if you have ever had the time to consider the whole food chain, you likely want it to be fair and healthy for the people that made it for you… but that is too much worrying for most.

    Your expectations sadly clash with the economic and survival interests of ALL in the food chain (i.e. insects and other pests) and supply chain (farmers, intermediaries, shopkeepers). It has always been like that. I am told my butcher grandfather had to sneak in the least pretty slices of meat unnoticed, otherwise they would not sell, something that was not affordable.

    So my artisan baker meets my criteria: look and taste. He meets the criteria: local (good for the environment) and non-industrial (more nutritious and healthy). I can see all that with my eyes.
    Bread has been known to be bulked out with chalk to make it cheaper: that is not something one could see with their own eyes; I take price, and my personal relationship with the baker, as a proxy of quality, so I assume that he doesn’t use chalk. I have no guarantee, but I do trust him with that.

    Also, in this particular workshop I have seen the sacks of certified organic flour that I trust they use, after having checked. That definitely meets my expectation for healthy food.

    I do not really know anything of how the flour got there: I assume that it was grown in a lush field, milled in a postcard-pretty mill (this is the country of pretty mills, right?) by a lovely miller with his stone, and packed hygienically, then shipped safely.
    I assume the sacks contain what they say on the label, but I have no guarantee… or do I?

    The only way to make sure you know what you get, when the food chain is longer, is to have legally binding definitions and standards.

    Legally binding standards

    Agricultural and food standards, issued by governments, require growers and producers to follow certain health and safety practices in the growing and processing of food, and to avoid certain ingredients and additives that are known to be poisonous or dangerous.

    They cover:

    • growing practices and chemical products used in the fields and to raise animals for meat
    • processing practices from field to  shop (slaughtering, preserving including additives, packaging, transporting)
    • shop hygiene

    Every government tends to have their own different standards, except in the EU, where the 28 countries agreed on shared standards to be formalised as European regulation and directives and translated into national law. The EU food standards on what can go into food and food production have been notoriously stricter than, for example, the US standards. They have traditionally been based on what we call the precautionary principle: if a product or practice is not (reasonably) proven to be safe, then better be safe than sorry**.

    We generally trust the standards chosen by our own government and upheld by our own people. In Italy people are very proud of their food tradition, in the UK people bang on about having the highest standard in all of Europe – yes, there is nothing to prevent a state in the EU to have better standards than the ones agreed by the 28 states, the law is only meant to set the minimum necessary!

    Government standards, however, regulate only what is known to be poisonous or dangerous. Scientifically proven to be poisonous or dangerous*** that is. But science evolves all the time, and what was fine yesterday is found to be dangerous today. There are enormous pressures from economic interests on food standards (as you can imagine) and spot-checks are not as frequent as one might wish, even if they do work, as proven by food ‘scandals’ ****.

    But what happens with those substances or processes that are not yet scientifically proven to be poisonous or dangerous, but may well be found to be so in the future, and are suspected based on precedents?

    The ‘organic’ certifications worldwide have tried to go further than government standards and address the issue of the use of chemicals in the fields, antibiotics in meat production and additives and processing aids in the food supply chain. They uphold minimum use of external and chemical inputs in farming and food production, and require that any new inputs need to be carefully tested before finding their way into the food chain.

    The different certification bodies (possibly more than one per country or region and officially vetted by governments) have set their standards and they do keep a certain amount of control on the producers, including through spot checks^. Therefore, organic producers follow tighter rules and have a double chance of checks: the government’s and the certification authority’s.

    It’s not a perfect system, but it’s better than nothing. Of course there are higher costs involved^^ and not all certifications are equally strict: it’s as I mentioned before, a matter of whom you trust (the most). 
    As we are all human, I am very conscious that farmers (even the organic ones) can and DO break the rules, as their objective is to keep the crops alive and well so that they can sell them and make a living. So do the other players in the food chain, like processors. They might get caught of course, but they might well be fine. 

    Again, it’s down to trust, and I trust two chances of controls better than one.

    Certified organic flour

    My expectation of the flour in those bags is that fewer additives were used during processing, than it would in non-organic flour, and that for the cereals that went into the flour stricter standards (depending on the certification type) were applied on chemical use in the field. Most essentially: no glyphosate.


    In fact, nowadays, the great part of non-organic grains are desiccated before harvest with herbicide in order to make the harvesting process easier (especially in countries where the weather is not so sunny as dry stuff sticks to the machinery less than wet stuff). Most often this is glyphosate, a product that is absorbed by the plant (so-called translocated action) and has therefore a high chance of ending up in the flour.

    I still have too little vocabulary to research in great detail the use of glyphosate in the Netherlands. but the rates of wheat spraying came out in the Volkskrant the other day: 1.7 kg pesticides per hectare (0.17 g per sqm) on average^^^.

    Local flour

    I did go on a bit, didn’t I? The fact is that in the last few weeks some new bags of flour have started to appear in my lovely baker’s workshop. They are from the local mill, and they are not certified organic.

    Molen de Windhond, Woerden -1755

    Provenance is an issue that is often conflated with the health and sustainability of the product. We often assume that if we buy local flour it will be by local, small farmers, which are assumed to produce wholesome food. 

    However, the grains that are milled locally could well be imported, as there is no rule about local flour being from local farmers! In fact, there is no rule to define what ‘local’ means^^^^, it is just left to our own interpretation. Besides, even if it the grains were from local farmers, there is no guarantee whatsoever that a local, small(ish) farmer does not use ‘industrial’ farming practices, including the use of pesticides.


    Unless it is certified organic, therefore, I would have to check with the miller (who would have to check with the farmer) whether pesticides have been used in the production and processing of the wheat, and then trust them to tell me the truth, and to be consistent over time in their sourcing criteria.

    Between the baker and myself

    As my baker is not certified organic there are no double checks on the ingredients and the processes he uses: he is bound only by the government’s food standards. While he has chosen to use organic flour, at any time he might well switch to the local mill’s if he wished so, something that might even make the proudest of localists happier!

    But, for me, that means I’ll have to ask the question: am I still protected from glyphosate (and other pesticides) in the flour? Having lived in Britain (too long) I don’t like to make a fuss, and with my little mastery of Dutch it is really a pain to talk about complex topics, so I’m rather hating this new development!

    * ‘cheap’ is a tricky concept that I may one day talk about
    ** this is at risk of changing under heavy corporate pressure, and I may write more about it
    *** even though they may rely on self-certification by for example the chemical companies themselves on the safety of their own products for a range of complex reasons
    **** for example the UK ‘horse meat scandal’ when horse meat was found in processed food that was supposed to be containing beef or pork. And yes, ‘scandals’ are proof that rules are upheld, even though people tend to interpret them as failure of the standards
    ^ this is very similar to the ‘fairtrade’ certifications, which have made efforts to make the food supply chain fairer by setting stricter standards of fairness than those implemented by local governments, and set checks in place to verify that they are upheld. Fairtrade certifications however are voluntary schemes and not vetted by governments, as far as I’m aware
    ^^  it is more difficult to produce organically because you need non-standard technologies and possibly more manual labour to replace the use of chemicals. Furthermore you pay yourself to be certified, as it is deemed to be a competitive advantage, so the onus is on you
    ^^^ which might seem little, but it is chemicals we are talking about, also, chemicals are poisonous to different degrees and they do not always behave as expected: some hormone-disrupting chemicals are thought to be more dangerous in small quantities than in large ones (low-dose effects)
    ^^^^ this is of course a problem, one small aspect of which the EU countries together have addressed by regulating on the ‘protected designation of origin‘. The EU is also trying to encourage local supply chains, for example there is a market in my town with local producers that gets EU funding. I buy from the certified organic veg market stall, but they do import veg that are not available locally, even though I can trust them to choose their suppliers more carefully that, say, a supermarket

  • Blooming weeds!

    It is over a year since my last post and l’Orto di Casa Cecconi has a new home, in the Netherlands. A rather beautiful, large patch of land adjacent to a nature reserve and lake, it came with a big shed, more of a house really… The space is divided in two parts: a mature, ornamental garden with pond (siertuin in Dutch), and a vegetable patch (moestuin in Dutch) with sizeable glasshouse.

    I am meeting new people and observing new methods of gardening and still discovering all the marvellous plants, meant or not meant to be there… which leads me to today’s post.

    People here don’t seem so obsessed about weeds, road verges are quite colourful, and this is the time of dandelions and escaped rapeseed, so it’s gold everywhere! However, having a walk on the plot the other day, someone saw a beautiful dandelion plant on my plot and pointed out that an allotment site is no place for such a prolific weed.

    That really threw me. It’s 2019: the insect population is collapsing, climate change is already affecting our gardens (it is so dry even here where water covers 18% of the land) and people really think that bare ground is better than leaving weeds in, and that it is a good idea to exterminate every wildflower in sight? Apparently yes, habits die hard, ‘supremacist’ horticultural beliefs as well (as in: man is superior to the rest of nature and must keep it under control).

    Have we ever managed to exterminate weeds by our actions? Luckily not. So why do we keep creating more (mostly pointless) work for ourselves by trying to keep them at bay, would it not be better to learn how to live with (at least some of) them?

    Dandelions are really pretty flowers, objectively speaking, and not a noxious weed by the definition:

    A noxious weed, harmful weed or injurious weed is a weed that has been designated by an agricultural authority as one that is injurious to agricultural or horticultural crops, natural habitats or ecosystems, or humans or livestock

    they are easily pulled out and have no spreading rhizomes, they do not overwhelm plants in the way bindweed does. Like all plants with a long tap root, they are effective at pulling up nutrients from the lower layers of the soil, and bringing them up to the surface… so good for the compost heap!

    Wild bee
    Hoverfly

    Do I have to say that pollinators love them? I have proof: there is a wild bee (the pollinators that are worst off at the moment) and an hoverfly – do you know their larvae decimate aphids? Definitely friends to nurture on a plot. Dandelions emerge rather early in the spring, at the same time as the first bees, and can therefore be a lifesaver at a time when little else may be available for them to eat.

    I read that goldfinches and house sparrows do eat the seeds of dandelion, but who knows how many other insects and organisms rely on Taraxacum in their foodchain? Surely there are beetles and nobody ever thinks of the soil organisms that keep our soil healthy, for which root exudates are an essential source of nutrition.

    Sadly, I could not find a handy list of the Taraxacum foodchain.

    But I am a believer in the fact that we have to start thinking of ‘weeds’ in the context of the ecosystem they support, not just as our personal enemies. For example, over the years I have heard people lament the absence of butterflies, but not one of them has even hesitated when pulling out nettles, the main food source for at least two of the most favourite butterflies’ caterpillars: red admiral (Vanessa atalanta) and peacock (Aglais io)! No caterpillars = no butterflies, right?

    Back to the humble dandelion, another reason why it does not make sense to say it is a plant that does not belong in an allotment is that all parts of the plant are edible, palatable even, and in fact I wrote a post about that a few years ago

    Dandelion (Taraxacum officinale)

    about my experiments with baking pie with the leaves, as a substitute for chicory catalogna. A couple of years ago I also had a go at deep-fried flowerheads in a batter: such a dense, umami taste I was not expecting! I even tried the roots, boiled as you would radici amare di Soncino – those were a bit fiddly to peel but I enjoyed the bitter taste with a drizzle of olive oil and white wine vinegar.

    It is real, I’m not the only crazy person that eats dandelions, there are cultivars, someone bred them! For example Aster Lane Edibles*.

    Blooming weeds indeed!

    * link broken, apologies. Fabulous Telsing, the owner of Aster Lane, decided for a more urban lifestyle for her family and went into maths