MIX & MATCH

No-one has ever accused me of being organised or precise. Heaven knows I have tried, but it just doesn’t come naturally.

Imethodically label seeds after I harvest and store them, and again when I sow them, but I still end up with misnamed plants, or plants that don’t look like what they should. Some of this can be put down to human error (most of it actually), but there is also something else that can affect this. Cross-pollination can occur naturally between plants that are close together and result in some interesting outcomes.

Tomatoes and peppers have been busily hybridising in my tunnelhouse for a few seasons now. I grow about 150 tomato plants which are a mix of around 20 different varieties, plus a few self-sown plants of unknown origin that have decided to grow strong and healthy in vaguely the right place.

Often these “volunteers” are stronger and healthier than the cosseted seedlings that I have thoughtfully raised. There’s something to be said for letting nature do its own thing, but sometimes we do like to have some control over what is grown so that we can have things to eat that are reliable and delicious.

One of the cross-pollinated varieties that stands out in my tunnelhouse is ‘Pink Pear’, a variety that has a long history. Reputedly, the seeds were brought to New Zealand from Italy in someone’s pocket after the war, then grown by following generations in a tunnelhouse to keep them true. Well, mine seem to have been cross-pollinating with one of the heirloom beefsteaks such as ‘Brandywine Pink’ or ‘Black Krim’. They have produced some lovely big fruit from which I’ve been saving seeds.

One of my small black peppers has been ripening to bright red after its natural termination of black and becoming slightly hot. Another one – just one fruit on one plant – got way beyond its normal size and turned brown like its neighbour, the chocolate capsicum.

I also have a new type of basil now. It appears to be a cross between the ‘Sweet Genovese’ and ‘Red Opal’, with the growth habit of ‘Sweet Genovese’, leaf serrations like purple basil, and it has mottled green and purple leaves.

It is beautiful and I hope it stays like this. I like the randomness of this process.

Seeds are notorious for growing into surprise plants.

Seed companies manipulate this, either by keeping different species apart so that no cross-pollination occurs, ensuring the resulting seed will grow into a predictable plant that is close to a match of its parent plant. Alternatively, different plants can be deliberately crossed to produce a plant which has the desired characteristics from the parent plants. This is usually done over several generations of plants and is marketed as a hybrid plant or seed or F1.

If you save seed from hybrids, the resulting plant won’t be like the one you have harvested it from, but some other mix of traits which may not be very desirable. How many people have found a promising-looking seedling in the compost or vege bed thinking it would grow into a beautiful crown pumpkin, only to find it is some weird inedible mix of cucurbits (which includes pumpkin, cucumber and courgette, to name a few).

At the same time, we all interfere by choosing seeds from a plant that we want to replicate certain qualities from.

We have quite a lot of power there. My ‘Moonlight’ tomatoes kept getting bigger and stronger, and they still taste amazing.

‘Moonlight’ is a heritage variety, part of a research project by the Heritage Food Crops Research Trust based in Whanganui and the Trust’s work has shown that it has health benefits because of the kind of lycopene it contains. (Ed’s note: See the story on page 33 on the HFCRT’s work if you want to know more, and find out how to score yourself free seed for two golden heirloom tomato varieties.)

I’m hoping my ‘Moonlight’ tomatoes still have the health properties that the original ones do. I will sow some of the original seeds this season to make sure it doesn’t stray too far.

It is fun to try out different things and see if I can grow bigger, better or even different-coloured veges. Sometimes it works; sometimes it doesn’t. If you have the space and don’t need to grow a reliable crop, then why not experiment? ✤