How is the flower of the potato plant like the special people in our lives who are always there for us, no matter what?

The flower of the humble potato plant is a bit like the quiet unassuming people in our lives who are always there for us, caring, kind and loving, but we rarely take the time to notice and acknowledge their beautiful qualities.  The potato is taken for granted as a staple and reliable food source in most cultures across the world, but few would know that potato plants have lovely flowers in shades of white, pink, red or purple, or that nature has designed some clever tricks to ensure its survival in the natural world. 

A few years ago, we grew some heirloom potatoes that produced stunning mauve flowers punctuated with egg yolk yellow stamens emerging from glowing green centres.  It triggered my curiosity about these blooms and the plant on which they grew.  

Originally from Peru and Bolivia, Solanum tuberosum has been cultivated for thousands of years in South America.  The early indigenous people of these countries developed their own cultivars and ate the tubers that grow underground, dried them to grind into a flour called ‘chuno’, and used them to make alcohol.  It wasn’t until the 16th century they were taken to Europe, with the Spaniards being the first to grow them, and then other countries followed suit and eventually created their own cultivars. 

Potato plants are a bit of a wild bunch with their unruly mass of bright yellowish green stems and leaves clutching at your knees as you wander past.  Like many people who quietly give of themselves unconditionally, the flowers seem a bit self-conscious in their slightly downward gaze, as if they wish to avoid discovery of their inner nature.  Whilst the blooms are only about the size of your big toenail, they have what might be described as ‘a single colourful petal’, called a ‘corolla’, that’s made up of five fused petal lobes, distinguished by white veins that can be seen clearly in the painting.  Each of these is connected by soft flowing folds, frills and flounces that gently flutter in the breeze and act like a flag being waved to attract the attention of passing bees.  And this is where it gets really interesting!    

Potato flowers are incredibly clever, like their cousins the tomato, eggplant and kangaroo apple, as they are only pollinated by bees and have developed a specific mechanism, called ‘buzz pollination’, to ensure that bees are the only insect that can collect the pollen and transfer it to other flowers.  The bright yellow stamens, or male reproductive parts, are in fact tubes filled with pollen rather than the usual pollen clinging to the surface found in most flowers.  These tubes have two small holes, or pores, in their tips, similar to those in your skin, and it’s the vibrations created by the bee’s flight muscles (making the ‘buzz’ sound) that shakes clouds of pollen from the pores.  Some land on the body of the bee who then carries it to other blooms for fertilization!  

Unfortunately, this clever strategy to ensure the flowers grow into seeds so the plants can reproduce themselves, is only used by the home gardener these days, and often not even by them.  In a bid to grow potatoes that are identical in large scale monocultures to feed the masses, commercial potato growers raise their plants from what are called ‘seed potatoes’, the starch filled tubers under the ground that grow into potatoes, rather than the seeds produced by the flowers.  This results in reduced genetic diversity and ultimately compromises their natural capacity to adapt to their environment.  Short term gain that results in long term pain, as history has attested, time and time again, with starvation following widespread failure of diseased potato crops.    

Like our loved ones and friends who are always there for us, we take for granted that there will always be potatoes on our table for dinner.  It’s easy to overlook the quiet beauty and intelligent design of the potato flower that produces seed to grow the humble spud and perpetuate its health.  So, next time you reach for a trusty old desiree or kipfler to keep you sated and nourished, think of her lovely blooms and how clever she is, and let it be a reminder to acknowledge those in your life whose special qualities so often fly under your radar.