In a peaceful, idyllic valley near the border between Italy and Austria, apple is king. Or rather, as they say here, queen (“regina”). And, indeed, over the past couple of days (October 13-15th), in perhaps the most spectacular season of the year, the Val di Non celebrated the 17th edition of the Pomaria, a yearly festival dedicated to the apple in all its glorious types and forms, from strudel to cider, as well as other local produce (cured meats, cheeses, wines, etc.). This is the season of the harvest, that unique moment of abundance that warrants celebration and sharing all over the world. As most such festivals nowadays, the agenda was full of events for all ages and preferences: tastings, readings of children’s books, cooking classes, live music, guided tours of apple orchards, and so on.
When the Pomaria began, it was capitalizing on an existing reputation: the Val di Non as the heart of Italian apple production. But how did the centrality of the apple here come about? And what has it brought with it? The story is actually quite a modern one, emblematic of agricultural tendencies across Italy, though it also lays claim to ancient roots. While the region of the Val di Non, for a long time part of the Austro-Hungarian empire, was always renowned for its agricultural output, and some even say apples have been grown here for 2000 years, their serious cultivation only began in the 20th century (much of the cuisine Italy is now world-famous for began similarly recently, as Alberto Grandi has argued). It was after World War I that apple growing quickly became Val di Non’s most important agricultural activity. The landscape changed to accommodate the growing production and demand, with picturesque—or invasive, depending on how you see it—apple orchards spreading across the mountainous terrain.
The business model changed too. Melinda, now the most famous apple company in this area, was born in 1989 to centralize the growing and selling of apples, and also to standardize their branding, ensuring that only those harvested in this valley were sold as such. Melinda is not just a large impersonal conglomerate, however: it is a consortium that includes more than 4,000 local family orchards, rewarding small growers across the valley.
In 2003, only three years before the Pomaria began, the European Union awarded several of Melinda’s apples the much-coveted “DOP” label, standing for Denominazione di Origine Protetta, or denomination of protected origin. They are the only apples in Italy to have it. The DOP label, which is used across all food and drink products in Europe, guarantees the origin and tradition of a good (in this case assuring that the apples come from the Val di Non), its quality, and the environmental standards used to grow it. Besides assuring quality control, it provides a significant marketing advantage to the products it decorates.
Now, the Val di Non is unquestionably the land of Italian apples. This reputation has put the valley on the national map and contributed to its high levels of well-being. It has also, however, come under critique. The large open green spaces that remain for walking and outdoor activities are threatened by those who desire to increase apple cultivation with the DOP label. Under the banner of a “committee to defend public health”, a group of locals has been campaigning for years for the decrease in the use of pesticides in intensive apple growing, which negatively impact the communities immediately adjacent to the orchards.
Here in the North of Italy, as all over the country, appreciation for the quality of ingredients and the culinary arts in general is very high. It is almost natural that, with the potentials for mass marketing, job creation, and even festivals of the likes of the Pomaria, food comes to be a regional and local priority, and even symbolize a place and its people. It is interesting to ask ourselves, however, the potential implications and costs of such metonymy.
