Editor’s letter
I’m not green-fingered. The only crop I’ve ever harvested has been the elderflowers that grow in my garden (and make a very nice cordial). However, I’ve just learned that the town I live in has an apple named after it — an orangey-red pippin that was, until recently, thought extinct. And, despite my horticultural limitations, I’m quite tempted to try to grow it. I suppose I’m seduced by the idea of uniting a local crop with the specific soil from which it evolved. Just like my elderflowers, this pippin tree would, in its own small way, help keep alive the story of the local landscape. Of course, stories like these are told in other places by other crops, too. Some, like Greek olives, tell tales so old they stretch back…
