LOCAL FARMERS JOIN MOVEMENT TO SAVE SEEDS, PROTECT AG DIVERSITY: IDAHO STATESMAN

From the IDAHO STATESMAN:



KEN LOVE / Akron Beacon Journal

Saving seeds is an ancient tradition that allows people all over the world to preserve edible culture across continents and generations. Modern gardeners and food growers are getting back in the habit in the hope we will have the resources to deal with potential food crises caused by environmental disasters, war or poor agricultural management.


Carved into a wall of solid rock and permafrost in a remote corner of Norway, a man-made fortress stands between us and starvation. It sounds like a teaser to a Hollywood blockbuster, but the Svalbard Global Seed Vault is a real answer to very real threats to our natural food supply.

Hundreds of feet inside a frozen mountain, billions of seeds from all over the planet are being stored in the hope of protecting our precious biodiversity from war, environmental disasters and bad agricultural practices. If the crops we depend on are ever wiped out, we will have the means for a new beginning.

"The great thing about food production is that wherever there is ground and water, you can grow food," said Josie Erskine, co-owner of Peaceful Belly Farm in Boise. "We have the ability to have a solution to a food crisis when it comes - as long as we have seed."

There are those who think the food crisis is already happening. Much of modern agriculture depends on chemicals and genetic modifications to ensure people have mammoth strawberries all year long, but Erskine said the consequences of messing with nature are coming home to roost.

She said heirloom varieties of everything from corn to wheat are disappearing as genetically modified organisms (GMOs) contaminate surrounding crops. Her husband and business partner, Clay Erskine, added that commercial seed companies are conglomerating and selecting for only a few staples, making our food sources more and more limited and fragile.

"The modern breeding process chooses traits that are desirable for the shipping industry," he said. "They are selected to be durable, not flavorful."

"Seed saving is a grass-roots effort to take back the seed industry," his wife added, "to have power over our own food."

LIVING CURRENCY

In the wake of the 9/11 terrorist attacks in 2001, the Erskines were consumed by a single thought.

"Our first instinct was seed, that we needed to start saving seeds instead of money," Josie Erskine said. That year, they founded Peaceful Belly, an organic farm that includes two small plots in Boise (one off of Castle Drive and another in the Dry Creek area) that feed a 150-member community-supported agriculture (CSA) co-op; local restaurants including Red Feather Lounge and Bittercreek Alehouse; and shoppers at Downtown Boise's Capital City Public Market.

Fruits, vegetables, herbs and chickens with brilliant red combs coexist at Peaceful Belly, and every weekday, they nourish the Erskines' crew. Lunch is prepared with whatever is fresh, and gardeners enjoy the bounty of the land under a canopy of plum and trumpet vines. It is a time to connect, not only with each other but also with the food on their plates - "true food," as Josie Erskine calls it.

Because the Peaceful Belly family spends so much time cultivating, cooking and eating together, they are able to slow down and celebrate the process. Many Americans aren't so lucky. A lot of the food they buy is packaged and tastes as bland as its back story. "Fresh" produce is part of the typical diet, but often it is picked too early and stimulated with natural gas before hitting grocery store shelves.

"Every tomato in the store was picked rock hard and green as all get out - not a blush on them," Clay Erskine said. "They get picked and packed and fumigated for color, but they don't have a chance to develop flavor."

Peaceful Belly grows about 150 kinds of heirloom tomatoes, only 70 percent of which successfully produce in a given year.

"Everything about the tomato is so worth the risk, even just to get three from a plant for the whole season," Josie Erskine said. "I look at vegetables and fruits like Christmas. Why can we wait all year for Christmas and we can't wait for a tomato?"

Fighting against that need for instant gratification is at the core of the seed-saving movement. It once was a widespread tradition, a way to transport culture across continents and generations. It was about survival, but, more than that, it was about maintaining identity.

"The Cherokee carried seeds on the Trail of Tears, and, as America went from wild to cultivated, settlers carried seeds in their covered wagons," Erskine said. "You really see that it's the poor and persecuted who have been the seed savers."

STRONG ROOTS

Beth Rasgorshek doesn't fall into either category, but seeds anchor her life. Her Canyon Bounty Farm in Nampa is devoted to producing organic seeds for beans, soy beans, lettuce, peppers, onions, leeks, flowers, melons and herbs. She is only in her fourth season, but her family has a 30-year history in the industry, and her parents (who live just across the field) have helped her become a respected supplier for a handful of organic seed companies.

Rasgorshek works more than a dozen different seed lots on seven acres with antique farm equipment scavenged from local auctions. Many of her neighbors are involved in commercial agriculture, and they often tease her for working too hard. She is inclined to agree, but for Rasgorshek, there is only one method.

"Farming this way is the only way that makes sense to me, taking care of the soil and the impact it has on our community," she said. "I'm always focused on what more I can do. It doesn't ever feel like enough."

One of the things she does is supply organic growers in the Treasure Valley - including Peaceful Belly - with good seed. Every year is an experiment, the goal being to establish a catalog of seeds with the best balance of flavor, color, texture, vigor, yield and hardiness. Rasgorshek also sells to individuals with yard gardens, a person-to-person exchange she sees as a major tool of changing people's attitudes about food.

"We kind of have to do it in a mouse-like manner under the legs of tall horses," she said, spinning a metaphor about grass roots efforts supplanting existing norms. "If you're worried about food, plant a garden. Growing your own bell peppers won't necessarily lower your overall food bill, but it gives people a sense of food security and reconnects them to food in a more tangible, complete way."

She has noticed an uptick in people starting or expanding their own gardens this year, some to save money and others to reinvest in the food they eat. A significant slice of the population will still buy Chilean apples in the off-season, but those who have tasted an old fashioned red from Anderson Apple Ranch in Emmett have a hard time going back. Rasgorshek thinks it is because of the memories associated with meals, the flashes of frying okra with grandma in Florida when you smell or even see it.

"It's a great day if I can hear one good food memory from a customer," she said, touching the weathered, handmade seed packets put together by her husband's Sicilian grandfather, Sabotino Mastrandrea. "Seeds are a part of it, that lineage that gets passed on."

A growing community of thoughtful producers and consumers are passing on this valuable message, seed by seed, memory by memory. They may not reach everyone, but small victories (and strawberries) are often the sweetest.

Erin Ryan: 672-6732