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transcription
This transcript was created using speech recognition software. While it has been reviewed by human transcribers, it may contain errors. Please review the episode audio before quoting from this transcript and email [email protected] with any questions.
This is “The Opinions,” a show featuring a mix of voices from “The New York Times Opinion. ” You already heard the news. This is what to do about it.
I’m Aimee Nezhukumatathil I’m a parent of two teen boys. I’m a professor of English and Creative Writing at the University of Mississippi, and I’m the author of two essay collections and four books of poetry.
[SOFT MUSIC]
I don’t think you can be a parent at this point, or just even someone who looks at the news and not be worried about all these kinds of scary things that are going on in our environment. But I find that when I am overwhelmed with the news, I find that I do the most action when I hear about something that I love, or when I get inspired by hearing about what somebody else loves. I find also that sharing what you love is contagious. You realize, oh, without them, that would be a sad world. And so I just thought, what would it — what would happen if we lost the world’s favorite smell? I just worry for the future of vanilla.
As a woman who moved a lot when I was younger, my parents are immigrants and my mom, we had to move a few times because of her job, so I don’t feel like my husband is home. He lived in the same state his entire life. Vanilla, for me, is an anchor. It’s a way to get attached to a moment, to a kitchen, to my loved ones, without having to leave the house.
To me, home is not a place, but it’s a feeling, and vanilla is one of those that I could be tethered to the people I love, and to the feeling that I want to share with everybody as well. So I’m not at all saying we’re going to cure the world by focusing on vanilla, but I’m just saying we could start small by noticing what we love. And so here’s my essay on the importance of the vanilla bean.
From custard to candles, we live in a world awash in vanilla, and the plant that produces it is in danger. Extracted from the pod of a sensitive orchid, vanilla will need to be grown under exceptionally precise conditions along a very narrow swath of the Earth, between the tropics of Cancer and Capricorn. This excessive whimsy makes it highly vulnerable to the growing impacts of climate updating and deforestation.
Most of the production of advertising vanilla is produced in Madagascar, Mexico and Tahiti. As global warming, cyclones and storms in those regions become stronger, knocking down orchid flowers and vanilla beans before they have a chance to fully mature. In 2017, a cyclone equivalent to category four wiped out around 30% of Madagascar’s vanilla vines. These vines produced 80% of the vanilla used in the world.
Subsequently, the value of vanilla beans rose to nearly $300 per pound. Most people I know who reflect on the depression from climate change know that extreme weather could threaten crops like corn and coffee. But you probably didn’t believe what would happen. It will be like losing the smell and taste of genuine vanilla.
To perceive how much we could lose if real vanilla disappeared, we must understand the partly obscure history of what a global product looks like. We wouldn’t have vanilla ice cream, flavors, or desserts without a 12-year-old boy named Edmond. Albius. Su mother died in the early 19th century on the island of Réunion, then called Bourbon, off the coast of Madagascar.
The guy who enslaved him a botanist who fussed and fumed about his vanilla orchids, which just would not bloom. However, historians do not know if the young Mr. Albius ordered to locate a solution, or if he discovered it on his own. But in 1841 he evolved the strategy of flattening the anther sac and stigma of the orchid flower with his finger and thumb, and which is still used today, all over the world, to hand pollinate the orchids. vanilla orchids and produce giant amounts of extract. Array
The flowering of orchids is brief. In the morning they are projected on a giant screen. But at noon, the flower closes, making the scope for hand pollination very narrow. Then, for each pollinated flower, the beans take almost a year to grow and dry completely. When the pods wrinkle and soften, they take on a dark brown color and then give off a rich aroma.
Farmers grow about 4 and a half million pounds of dried vanilla beans annually, but it takes about three hundred hand-pollinated orchid flowers to produce a single pound. So if wind and unusually heavy rain cause those flowers to drop prematurely, farmers have to start this whole years-long procedure all over again. They are not grown indoors because of the incredibly high costs of providing enough space, warmth, indirect sunlight and humidity for the vines, which grow draped over trees and shrubs and spread up to thirty meters, flourishing in the soft, dappled light that passes through the crown of a tree.
Because the production of real vanilla is so labor intensive, scientists have experimented with creating substitutes, but many of these substitutes are terrible for the environment, creating large amounts of wastewater. When I cook or make gifts for friends using vanilla beans, my fingertips stay oiled with the scent of vanilla beans and the tiniest whiff of orchids for days. The scent creates a kind of nostalgia of having sweets cooked up for me at various family gatherings that my grandparents in India and the Philippines have passed on to my parents here in the United States, and that I hope get carried on to my sons living in north Mississippi.
It would be a shame to lose those warm, relaxing sensations in favor of something one-dimensional and chemically manufactured, while the genuine sensations are relegated to the memory bins of a previous generation. Above all, I hope that we are informed to recognize the price and time it takes to grow a single vanilla bean, especially in the tropical belt full of insects and brightly colored bird songs. Beneath this colorful canopy of bold, wild feathers and shells, the pale vanilla orchid shines like a sentinel, a beacon providing us with a gentle warning before it’s too late.
[SOFT MUSIC]
[PEACEFUL MUSIC]
If you like this show, follow it on Spotify, Apple, or wherever you get your podcasts. This show is produced by Derek Arthur, Sophia Alvarez Boyd, Vishakha Darbha, Phoebe Lett, Kristina Samulewski, and Jillian Weinberger. It’s edited by Kaari Pitkin, Alison Bruzek, and Annie-Rose Strasser. Engineering, mixing, and original music by Isaac Jones, Sonia Herrero, Pat McCusker, Carole Sabouraud, and Efim Shapiro.
Additional music by Aman Sahota. The fact-check team is Kate Sinclair, Mary Marge Locker, and Michelle Harris. Audience strategy by Shannon Busta, Kristina Samulewski, and Adrian Rivera. The executive producer of “Times Opinion Audio” is Annie-Rose Strasser.
[SOFT MUSIC]
transcription
This transcript was created by speech popularity software. Although it has been reviewed by human transcribers, it may contain errors. Please review the audio of the episode before quoting this transcript and email transcripts@nytimes. com if you have any questions.
This is “The Opinions,” a show featuring a mix of voices from “The New York Times Opinion. ” You already heard the news. This is what to do about it.
My name is Aimee Nezhukumatathil, I am a mother of two teenagers. I am a professor of English and art writing at the University of Mississippi and have two collections of essays and 4 books of poetry.
[SOFT MUSIC]
I don’t think you can be a parent right now, or even just watch the news and not worry about all that kind of scary stuff going on in our environment. But I find that when I am overcome by existing events, I find that I take maximum action when I hear something I love, or when I feel encouraged by listening to what someone else likes. I also find that sharing what we love is contagious. You realize that without them the world would be unhappy. And then I thought: what would happen? What would happen if we lost the world’s favorite smell?I’m only concerned about the long term of vanilla.
As a woman who moved around a lot when I was younger, my parents are immigrants and my mother had to move several times for her job, so I don’t feel at home like my husband’s. of the house. He lived in the same state all his life. Vanilla, for me, is an anchor. It’s a way to get attached to a moment, to a kitchen, to my loved ones, without having to leave the house.
For me, home is not a place, but it is a feeling, and Vanilla is one that I can bring together the people I love, and the feeling that I also need to share with everyone. So I’m not at all saying that we’re going to heal the world by focusing on vanilla, but I’m just saying that we can start small by realizing what we love. And here is my essay on the importance of the vanilla bean.
From custard to candles, we live in a world suffused with vanilla, and the plant that produces it is in danger. Extracted from the bean pod of a delicate orchid, vanilla must be grown under exceptionally precise conditions along a very narrow band of the Earth, between the Tropics of Cancer and Capricorn. This supreme finickiness makes it unusually vulnerable to the growing shocks of climate change and deforestation.
Most of the advertising vanilla production occurs in Madagascar, Mexico and Tahiti. As global warming, cyclones and storms in those regions become stronger, knocking down orchid flowers and vanilla beans before they have a chance to fully ripen. In 2017, a category four equivalent cyclone wiped out around 30% of Madagascar’s vanilla vines. These vineyards produced 80% of the vanilla used in the world.
Subsequently, the value of vanilla beans rose to almost $300 per pound. Most people I know who think about climate change depression know that extreme weather could threaten crops like corn and coffee. But you probably didn’t believe what would happen. It will be like losing the smell and taste of genuine vanilla.
To understand how much we could lose if real vanilla disappeared, we must understand the dark history of how it became a global product. We wouldn’t have vanilla ice cream, perfumes or desserts without a 12-year-old boy named Edmond Albius. His mother died in the early 19th century on the island of Réunion, then called Bourbon, off the coast of Madagascar.
The guy who enslaved him was a botanist who fussed and ranted about his vanilla orchids, which just wouldn’t bloom. However, historians do not know if the young M. Albius ordered a solution to be found, or if he discovered it himself. But in 1841, he developed the strategy of flattening the anther sac and stigma of the orchid flower with his index finger and thumb, and which is still used today, around the world, to manually pollinate vanilla orchids. . and produce gigantic quantities of the extract.
Orchid flowering is brief. In the morning, they are displayed on a giant screen. But at midday, the flower closes, making the window for hand pollination very narrow. Then, for every one pollinated flower, it takes almost a year for the beans to completely grow and dry out. When the pods shrivel and soft, they turn a dark brown colour and then give off a wealthy aroma.
Farmers grow about 4 million and a half pounds of dried vanilla beans annually, but it takes about three hundred hand-pollinated orchid flowers to produce a single pound. So, if wind and unusually heavy rain cause those flowers to drop prematurely, farmers have to start this years-long procedure again from scratch. They are not grown indoors because of the incredibly high prices of providing enough space, warmth, slanting sunlight and humidity for the vines, which grow under cover of trees and shrubs and grow up to thirty meters, thriving in the soft, dappled light that passes through. through the top of a tree.
Because generating genuine vanilla takes a lot of work, scientists have experimented with creating substitutes, but many of those substitutes are terrible for the environment and generate massive amounts of wastewater. When I cook or give gifts to my friends with vanilla beans, my hands remain oiled with the smell of vanilla beans and the slightest smell of orchid for days. The smell creates a kind of nostalgia for the delicacies prepared for me at family gatherings that my grandparents in India and the Philippines passed down to my parents here in the United States and that I hope to pass on to my children living in the north. of Mississippi.
It would be a shame to lose those warm, soothing feelings in favor of something one-dimensional and chemically manufactured, while the genuine is relegated to the memory containers of an earlier generation. Above all, I hope that we will be able to understand the price and time it takes to grow a single vanilla bean, especially in the tropical zone teeming with brightly colored bird songs and insects. Beneath this colorful canopy of wild, ambitious feathers and shells, the pale vanilla orchid glows like a sentinel, a beacon that provides us with a faint warning before it’s too late.
[SOFT MUSIC]
[PEACEFUL MUSIC]
If you like this display, it on Spotify, Apple or anywhere you get your podcasts. This display is produced through Derek Arthur, Sophia Alvarez Boyd, Vishakha Darbha, Phoebe Lett, Kristina Samulewski and Jillian Weinberger. It is edited through Kaari Pitkin, Alison Bruzek and Annie-Rose Strasser. Engineering, blending and original music through Isaac Jones, Sonia Herrero, Pat McCusker, Carole Sabouraud and Efim Shapiro.
Additional music via Aman Sahota. The fact-checking team is comprised of Kate Sinclair, Mary Marge Locker, and Michelle Harris. Audience strategy through Shannon Busta, Kristina Samulewski and Adrian Rivera. The executive producer of “Times Opinion Audio” is Annie-Rose Strasser.
[SOFT MUSIC]
By Aimée Nezhukumatathil
Produced by Vishakha Darbha
The smell of vanilla is immediately recognizable and may also disappear. In this ode to the vanilla bean, Aimee Nezhukumatathil explains why climate change can also lead to the destruction of this beloved plant.
(A full transcript of this audio essay will be available within 24 hours of it being posted to the audio player above. )
Thoughts? Email us at theopinions@nytimes. com.
This episode of “The Opinions” produced via Vishakha Darbha. It was edited by Alison Bruzek and Kaari Pitkin. Mixing via Sophia Lanman. Original music by Sonia Herrero, Pat McCusker and Carole Sabouraud. Fact-checking through Mary Marge Locker. Audience strategy through Kristina Samulewski and Shannon Busta. The executive producer of Opinion Audio is Annie-Rose Strasser.
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