Potatoes and the foods of the poor

I bought 2 kg of potatoes last weekend.  Four days later, I took out the bag to peel some for dinner, and found that every single potato in the bag had shoots on it.

I spent a minute or so muttering about supermarkets and their appalling buying policies, but then I realised that, in a funny way, I felt quite happy for those potatoes.  It’s cold at the moment (by Brisbane standards), but we passed the shortest day three weeks ago.  In their plastic bag, deep in the darkness of my pantry, those potatoes knew that spring is only a week or so away.

We ask a lot of potatoes.  There are some basic foodstuffs we expect to be on hand all year – potatoes and onions, apples and bananas, eggs and milk – yet even the humble spud is really a seasonal vegetable.

purple potato from villandry

Purple potato chips, made from purple potatoes, and served at the Chateau of Villandry in the Loire Valley,  which is noted for its vegetable gardens.

In 1949 the pioneer in World History, William H McNeill published an article on ‘The Introduction of the Potato into Ireland’ in the Journal of Modern History, based on his postgraduate work.  Now that every commodity, from cod to coffee to the colour mauve, seems to have its own historian, it’s easy to miss just how innovative McNeill’s thematic approach then was.  Exactly 50 years later, he returned to the topic with ‘How the Potato Changed the World’s History’, in Social Research: An International Quarterly (1999).  His preoccupation is understandable, for potatoes really did transform the world.

Farmers in the Andes first domesticated potatoes many thousands of years ago. From the wild potato, Peruvian farmers gradually line bred a tuber that was nutritious and so productive that it fed the Inca Empire.

Potatoes belong to the Solanaceae family, which also includes deadly nightshade and other poisonous plants.  Wild potatoes needed to be processed to make them safe, and even on modern potatoes, any green patches and sprouts can be poisonous.

When the Spanish arrived, they took potatoes back to Europe, along with many other products of New World agriculture – tomatoes, chillies, tobacco, corn – as part of the great Columbian exchange that transformed both sides of the Atlantic.

Until then in Europe, the main source of carbohydrates in the diet was wheat. This was a broad acre crop, sown by men guiding ploughs that were drawn by horses or oxen.  But in South America, there was no comparable broad acre crop, because there were no draft animals (the llama is a pack animal), and therefore no ploughs.  Peruvian cultivation was garden based, and the gardeners were usually women.  They planted the tubers in trenches, gradually heaping on extra soil as they grew, to produce a high yield from small plots of land.

When potatoes arrived in Europe, they quickly became the food of the poor. Peasants who couldn’t afford acreage or a team of oxen or a plough only needed a spade and a garden plot to grow potatoes.  (The word ‘spud’ probably comes from the spade used to dig it up.)

Unlike grain crops, potatoes can’t easily be stored. In the thin cold atmosphere of the Andes, Peruvian farmers process fresh potatoes by leaving them outside to freeze-dry for several nights. This makes chuño, a dried potato that can be further processed into flour for long term storage. This wasn’t possible in the clammy lands of northern Europe, so potatoes were useless for long term storage.

And that was an advantage.  No tax collector or landlord wanted to fill their granary with potatoes, so peasants grew wheat to pay the bills, and potatoes for their own use, outside the money economy.

Frank Holl, Peeling Potatoes

Frank Holl, Peeling Potatoes, Yale Center for British Art

Potatoes store best when they are left in the ground after the plant dies down.  In Ireland, the rule was: put the pot on the fire first, and only then dig up enough tatties for dinner.  That was another advantage, in strife-torn areas such as Cromwell’s Ireland or Germany during the Thirty Years War. Rampaging armies might steal the grain harvest, or next year’s precious seed corn – but unless they had the time, and knew where to dig, they left the potatoes in the ground.

When potato blight hit in the 1840s, this inability to store potatoes from one year to the next was a disaster instead.  There was no fallback, no warehouses holding last year’s crop of potatoes that could be released.  And people starved across much of northern Europe.

We still ask a lot of potatoes, and when they fail us, they get the blame!  Yet Ireland continued to export wheat throughout the famine years. Wheat was the market crop, the crop that paid the bills. Potatoes were a part of the non-market economy.  Nobody knew how many potatoes were grown or eaten, and when the crop failed, it took time for awareness to filter through to the political class – who of course ate bread.

Today there are other foodstuffs that rarely reach the marketplace, yet feed millions of people. Bananas, taro, cassava all share some of the characteristics of potatoes. They are starchy and filling, but not very nutritious, and are often grown as a monocultural crop. They reproduce asexually, so they have very little genetic diversity.  And they don’t store well.  Next year, American food crops will be way down because of a hot, dry summer.  Prices of grains will rise in the market place.  But what will be the knock-on effect for foods like these, that don’t reach the market?  Watch this space.

This time last year:
Hamlet’s University, 30 July 2011
Why the Census Counts, 3 August 2011
Jane Eyre and the Sisterhood, 11 August 2011

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13 responses to “Potatoes and the foods of the poor

  1. Marcus Harmes

    As fascinating as ever Marion – I love the economic angles you were looking at

  2. Just a little point about growing potatoes (and maize and beans and quinoa) in Peru: yes, there were no ploughs or draft animals, but cultivation of the terraced hillsides took place (and still did in some areas when I was there in the mid-1970s) with long rows of people wielding digging sticks. Men women and children were all involved, as I recall and the scale was somewhat bigger than the word ‘garden’ would imply. Sure, this was hardly broad-acre farming but it was still an agricultural system that produced a sufficient surplus to support priests, soldiers and noble elites and to build roads and temples and irrigation systems.

  3. I must go and check whether there is a history of the kumara and the food gardens of Maori villages. In Michael King’s Penguin History of New Zealand the kumara only gets mentioned on a few pages. And potato famines only on one page.

  4. Mary-Ann Turnbull

    Always love your entries Marion. So was The Society for the Prevention of Unclean Diet an urban myth?

    • I don’t know. But when I do a Google search omit, the first thing to come up is something on Alzheimer’s disease! I haven’t heard of it, but there were heaps of weird societies in the 19C.

  5. Pingback: Tanzania’s kitchen – food, glorious, colourful food | suletta

  6. Mary-Ann Turnbull

    Probably just another random irrelevant piece of ‘information’ roaming around in my brain. But then, what is irrelevant?

  7. Pingback: King Midas Invested in Crop Futures « The Great Dorset Vegetable Experiment

  8. Pingback: Home grown potatoes « JJASON What's in Season

  9. Pingback: Potatoes and the Foods of the Poor | Seeing the Woods

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