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One Potato, Two Potato,Three Potato, Four
Hobby breeder has eye on developing new varieties of spuds
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| Prof. Duane Falk, Plant Agriculture. PHOTO BY MARTIN SCHWALBE |
BY ANDREW VOWLES
He’s got a few years left before retirement, but Prof. Duane Falk, Plant Agriculture, already has a spot picked out to broaden his current after-hours pursuit. He’s got the property, an 85-acre spread in rolling hill country in Erin Township northeast of Guelph. He’s got the potatoes, several patches’ worth nestled in the flat bits of that wavy terrain. Heck, he’s even got the big red tractor.
Now he just needs the time. And the house — although, all going well, that will show up as soon as next year. He and his wife, Frebis Hoffmeyer, a program counsellor in the College of Management and Economics, have been working with an architect. Their planned dwelling will crown a ridge on the property, within view of both the drive shed Falk built — “my wife calls it the world’s biggest toy box” — and the farm’s signature heritage apple tree partway down the hill.
By day in his department, the plant geneticist breeds cereal crops — barley, oats, wheat — and co-ordinates field trials for new varieties. But after-hours, it’s Solanum tuberosum that holds his heart.
He hopes to expand his hobby breeding and ultimately develop a new variety or two — new twists on old tubers that might one day show up on your plate.
“I’m interested in potatoes that taste good and look good,” says Falk, digging a long-handled fork into the sandy loam of one patch to unearth another handful of tubers from his rows of plants. It’s late August, a bit early to dig up most of the 50-odd potential new varieties growing this year on the farm. But he’s eager to show off his crop — or at least the parts that are underground.
Above-ground, it’s a mixed story.
A week or so earlier, late blight arrived at the farm in spores probably carried by the wind from who knows where. The fungus worked fast. Among his neat rows of hilled-up plants are gaps where some individuals have succumbed entirely.
On other plants, blackened and withered leaves and stems are a sure sign of the invader, which halts or slows tuber growth.
Still, many of the knee-high shrubby specimens are full and green. Far from feeling despair over the mixed results, Falk is intrigued by his made-in-nature experiment. That’s partly the point of a breeder’s hobby, after all: finding new varieties that stand up to disease, insects or other challenges in this part of the world. Even the failures are grist for this experimenter’s mill.
He’s growing five rectangular patches of potatoes on the table-flat stretches of his property. (He leases most of the farm to a neighbour for growing hay.) That’s not a huge acreage compared with full-timers but enough to warrant the “toys” for Falk, especially that 1969 Massey-Ferguson parked in the shed. “I farm enough to justify owning a real tractor,” he says.
With obvious pride, he points out its varied attachments for tilling, planting and cultivating. “What’s really thrilling is when the seagulls come and circle around the tractor when you’re cultivating. Then you know you’re a real farmer.”
Currently, Falk and Hoffmeyer live near Arkell. They started searching for a hobby farm 10 years ago, looking closer to home at first, then widening the search until they found something that fit their wallets.
Their farm lies about 30 kilometres northeast of Guelph, just over the Eramosa-Erin town line and near a rural intersection where the asphalt paving gives way to gravel and the only landmark is the abandoned Mimosa Disciple cemetery. From the highest point on the property, Falk points out the microscopic twin spires of Guelph’s Church of Our Lady on the southwestern horizon. Angle a few degrees to the right and there’s the Fergus water tower.
Besides the hay and potato plots, the farm includes a small wetland and a six-acre maple bush that is home to deer and wild turkeys.
Falk comes out evenings and almost every weekend through the growing season. Hoffmeyer often comes along, although not necessarily to cultivate the potato patches. Calling himself the farmhand, he quips: “She’s management — she tells me what to do.”
He has grown Ruby Gold potatoes, developed by the late Gary Johnston, a U of G breeder who created the popular Yukon Gold. Another of Falk’s favourites just now — and a likely candidate for registration one day — is Golden Blush, a pink spud with red eyes and yellow flesh that popped up spontaneously in a Ruby Gold plot several years ago.
Lined up in his neat rows are other varieties — Fabula, Chieftain, Divina, Ida Red, Shepody, Sapphire — ranging from white and gold to pink, red, purple and even mixed hues. Red Marbles is the size of a so-called new potato but grows that way throughout the season. Falk figures there’s a market for this one in restaurants for its “plate appeal.”
Besides watching how the plants grow — or fail, as with those blight-battered specimens — he’s looking at tuber yield and characteristics such as skin and flesh colour, size, and storage and cooking qualities. He hopes to register some new varieties for farmers and for home gardeners.
Falk begins harvesting in mid- August and continues until late October, storing the crop in straw- covered boxes piled up in the shed cellar. Next year’s crop will consist of both seed potatoes — actually clones grown from the tuber’s eyes — and plants grown from true potato seeds.
Unlike the identical clones, true potato seeds are genetically different and develop into varied kinds, he explains. Resembling green cherry tomatoes, the true seeds are produced in fruit clusters on the plants after flowering.
He generally separates his hobby from his day job, although he has worked with U of G colleagues on potatoes. Food science professor Rickey Yada is interested in studying chemical properties of Falk’s stored potatoes. He’s also worked with Vanessa Currie, a technician in the Department of Plant Agriculture’s potato research program, and is a regular at her Potato Research Day held each summer at the Elora Research Station. (Their work with spuds earned both Falk and Currie mention in Anita Stewart’s Canada, a cross-country cookbook published last year.)
It took a while for potatoes to grow on him. He actually turned down his first job opportunity as a potato agronomist for Frito-Lay — too much digging, he thought.
Cereal crops appeared to hold out more intriguing genetic complexities and population dynamics. Falk studied crop science at Montana State University in the 1970s before coming to Guelph for his PhD. Both he and his wife are “farm kids”: Falk grew up on a mixed cattle and grain farm in Montana; Hoffmeyer hails from a dairy farm near Stratford.
At Guelph, he directs annual trials of new cereal varieties every year. More than half of the barley grown in Ontario stems from U of G, including OAC Kawartha, the most widely grown cultivar in the province.
Along the way, Falk found himself drawn to potatoes. Standing in his homegrown field with that digging fork in hand, he offers a wry smile. “I’m doing what I said I wouldn’t do. I found out it was more interesting than I thought.”
And productive. Forget store-bought potatoes: there’s always a ready stock of spuds on hand. He and Hoffmeyer often cook up supper on the farm, setting up the barbecue on the shed porch for a quiet evening. Nothing like fresh steelhead on the grill, says Falk. Boil up some corn on the cob, cook up whichever potatoes they fancy, add a bottle of Shiraz. All they need now is that house.