The Ultimate Seed Collection
If you’ve visited www.ted.com before , you’ll know it’s a fascinating repository of talks by some of the world’s leading thinkers.
Today I discovered a talk by Jonathan Drori about the Millenium Seed Bank. When you have a moment take a listen and learn why three billion seeds from around the world have been gathered for safekeeping. Then click on the next talk and the next and the next and the next and before you know it, it will be time for supper.
You can find out more on the MSB, which is attached to Kew, here.
A Dying Breed
My first introduction to ‘Cox’s Orange Pippin’ was through Roald Dahl’s Danny the Champion of World. It was the wonderful roll of the name that struck me, aged seven or eight, for it seemed nothing like the anonymous cooking apples that grew in the garden (pictured) or the usual South African supermarket fare, which offered a choice of ‘Granny Smith’, ‘Golden Delicious’ and ‘red ones’.
I’m sure, however, that ‘Cox’s Orange Pippin’ is to be found in Britain’s National Fruit Collections on Brogdale Farm, Kent. Over 2 000 varieties of apple are grown there, yet Kent’s orchards have been reduced by over 85 per cent in the past 50 years, as Lara Barton explains in this poignant video clip in today’s Guardian online.
How many varieties of apple does one find in British supermarkets today? The variety is greater than that of my southern childhood, but I can think of only five or six, at most.
I expect the fall in number is a matter of commercial expedience combined with consumer demand, yet there is something to be said for a good apple with crunch and taste. It’s one of life’s finer things.
Last weekend I made a fruit tart – I say fruit, rather than apple, since I’d insufficient ‘Bramley’ apples and so topped up the filling with pears. The scent of a buttery case crisping in the oven and of the fruit collapsing in a mixture of cinnamon, nutmeg and honey while the kitchen windows steamed up against the cold outside was delightful. With all the ghouls and beasties on loose, it was a reassuring way to pass Halloween.
Spring Forward; Fall Back
The clocks went back here last week but I’ve yet to change the time on my mobile phone. It’s not through negligence. Oh no. It is, in fact, a cunning plan through which I hope to deceive myself into going to bed at a more reasonable hour and waking earlier, in the hope of achieving a head start on the day.
Does it sound desperate? Probably. Admit me to the Maudsley if you wish; I do not care, since so far it’s working rather well, especially so in the mornings when, half asleep, I look at the phone and think, ‘Oh, goodness! It’s eight-thirty. Get-up-get-up-get-up’.
The shower is usually turned on by the time the cogs have turned sufficiently for me realise I’m an hour ahead, by which moment it’s too late – I’m out of bed.
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