The Cornelian cherry tree isn't a cherry tree

Species name: Cornus mas

Common name: Cornelian cherry

Location: Western University campus

I must admit, when I saw that this was part of the dogwood genus I was surprised...very surprised. But the more I examined the tree, the more it started to make sense. I'll explain more below. The Cornelian cherry is native to eastern Europe through parts of the Middle East (Iran, Armenia, Azerbaijan) and into parts of southwest Asia. Throughout many of these countries it is an important plant for traditional food and beverage production (more on that below), and at times even part of traditional medicine. There is no status official reported for this species, but since reports state that the products obtained from the plant are "better" from wild plants as opposed to cultivated plants, it is actively harvested in the wild. This probably contributes to a declining population, but a full evaluation on population size and reproductive ability would have to be done before any drastic conclusions could be made.

So why did it surprise me to find out this was in the dogwood genus (Cornus)? Well, I walk by this plant every day on my way into school and on my way home from school and I've always been convinced it was some kind of rose. Granted, I've never looked that closely. But it's a rose, darnit! Alas...it is not a rose. The leaves, for one, are absolutely characteristic of dogwood leaves. They are perfectly smooth on the top and bottom, as well as having "entire" margins (the margins of the leaves don't have teeth, unlike the fine, or sometimes large, teeth of members of the rose family) and very prominent main veins and secondary veins (and the tiny net-like branches of tertiary veins appearing to be completely absent at the base of the leaf). The leaves are also opposite on the stem, an important identification characteristic of the dogwood genus. The fruit also confused me; oval fruits with a pit inside them similar to a cherry pit but more almond-shaped is characteristic of the rose family, but can also happen in dogwoods (although much less common). The flowers, if I had of paid attention to them in the spring, is what would have also given them away. The tree produces bright yellow flowers (the flowers of the rose family are white, light pink or bright magenta) with only four petals instead of the rose family's five. The flowers are also produced VERY early in the spring (sometimes as early as February during mild winters, but most often the end of March), sometimes months before the first leaves start to appear. All-in-all definitely not a rose, and definitely a dogwood. The overall shape of the tree, although very difficult to discern from the first photo because of the buckthorns that are starting to re-grow (despite the massive clear-cut of buckthorn that occurred during the fall of the year before), is also characteristic of dogwoods and not roses. Without pruning, dogwoods often grow to a "triangle" shape, where the lower branches are very far-reaching and the branches above that become gradually shorter as the tree gets taller, so the canopy makes a cone-like shape. Rose family trees on the other hand are much rounder in shape, and all of the branches tend to reach upwards instead of outwards. Tree shape, if you can actually see the entire tree, is often a great characteristic to use to identify individual trees, but beware of pruning which can drastically alter the natural shape of the tree.

I eluded to some of the uses of this tree above, and I would be interested in trying some of the traditional beverages produced by this plant. After reading that the fruit was edible, I went back and tried one. Let me tell you: ripeness is everything for this plant. Oh, goodness. The fruits of this plant are somewhat unusual in that they only fully ripen after falling off the tree. I figured I could get close enough by finding a really red fruit on the tree and giving it a chew, but it was one of the most unpleasant experiences of my life. IT IS SO SOUR!!! I thought my cheeks were about to explode. Since I figured I had put my body through enough trauma I should just find a clean-ish fruit off the ground and give it a try. And you know what? Still sour. But not unpleasantly sour. Just not something you'd eat a bucket-full every day. Definitely not something I'd do again...I try to make a habit of not eating things off the ground. So, the berries are sort of edible but not very pleasant. What to do with them? Well, if you've ever walked under a Cornelian cherry tree about this time of year, you've noticed the smell: sickeningly sweet, and rotting fruit. Do you know what sickeningly sweet, rotting fruit is good for? Making alcohol. The starches in the fruit are already starting to break down by natural microbial action (which is why the fruit go from smelling like nothing to smelling like pure sugar in a matter of a few days), so if some brewer's yeast were to be added then you would get quite a potent alcohol produced. This idea has been exploited in almost every single country that this tree is native to; in Azerbaijan and Armenia the fruit are used to produce vodka, in Albania an alcoholic "moonshine" like beverage called raki is produced, and in Greece a liqueur is produced where the berries are fermented, then more are added back into the fermented liquid to impart flavour. Vodka doesn't usually have much flavour, but that's partly because of what you start with: corn, sorghum, wheat and potatoes don't have much flavour. Starting with a fruit that packs quite a punch I would think would give the vodka a truly unique flavour; I would definitely want to give it a taste-test compared to some "regular" vodka. I'm not so sure I'd be keen on raki, since I'm not a big fan of homemade hard liquor (I've tried chicha once, which is a South American version of moonshine made out of corn. The first few sips were OK, but very quickly became too much to handle for me flavour-wise, texture-wise, and the strength of the alcohol content). The Greek liqueur also sounds pretty tasty, so now I have a new thing to add to my list of "things to eat and drink in Greece" if I ever manage to make it there on vacation. Instead of fermenting the fruit, in Turkey and in Iran the fruits are pitted, dried and salted for a Craisin-like snack, which also sounds pretty good (it would be like a salty-sour raisin). In Turkey the fruits are also boiled with water and sugar to produce a thick syrup which is consumed with sparkling water as a beverage called a "Sharbat", and when poured over shaved ice you can see how we might get the English word: sherbert (or sorbet in France or sorbetto in Italy).

The fruit of the Cornelian cherry aren't just used as a food item or as a means of producing beverages; they're also used medicinally. The fruits themselves are exceedingly high in Vitamin C (only 3-4 berries would be enough to satisfy your daily requirement of Vitamin C intake) and so are often used as a means of warding off cold and flu in eastern Europe. Once the plant made it to China in the 1500s, the Chinese quickly started using the fruit of this plant in Traditional Chinese Medicine to restore kidney function, and to retain the body's essence. I'm not entirely sure what that involves, but if it involves the prevention of catching a cold (which involves sneezing a lot, an action often viewed as the "expulsion of the soul" which is why in English we say "bless you" afterwards) it's probably pretty effective. The wood has also been used as an important material in the construction of hunting tools, sporting equipment, machine parts, and the handles of woodworking tools. The wood is extremely dense, and actually sinks in water (which is incredibly unusual for wood). This makes it extremely durable, resistant to decay, and much stronger than other types of wood. The bark is also unusual; while it looks like "regular" bark, when it is boiled it gives off a bright red dye which was traditionally used to make the Fez hat. All that from a single plant!

An orange crabapple bush?

Species name: Pyracantha angustifolia

Common name: Narrowleaf firethorn

Location: Ontario

This species of firethorn (there are recognized 7 species in the genus and many varieties) is native to China, but popular throughout Europe and North America as an ornamental plant. It can tolerate the cold just enough where I am in Ontario, but not much further north since it doesn't do well in harsh winter climates. It can tolerate quite hot and arid areas, so does well in more tropical climates. It has become so invasive in areas of Hawaii that it threatens to completely eliminate native diversity. The only plant that manages to out-compete firethorns for resources in Canada is Madagascar periwinkle (which you can read all about HERE); not even English ivy can match its vigor (which you can read all about HERE).

If you look at the berries of the firethorn plant, you might think you've seen them somewhere before but a different colour. You would be correct! Like the crabapple (read all about it HERE), the firethorn is also in the rose family and has very similar, but smaller, fruit. They have that characteristic star-shape at the bottom of the fruit, which is also visible in apple fruits (also in the rose family!). This is characteristic of the type of fruit called a pome, and mimics the same star-shape that you see when you cut an apple in half cross-wise. And who hasn't cut an apple in half to reveal the star for apple-stamp painting when they were in daycare?! If you've never had the chance to do this, you're seriously missing out. And while you're at it, cut a potato in half and make a shape, and use that as a stamp, too. I miss these kitchen crafts...

Firethorn bushes are very important to wildlife in their native range, but not the primary food source of any animal in North America. The fruits are very bitter, so even birds would rather find something else to eat. They do obviously eat them, though, since they are the main vector of dispersal of the seeds. In order for a plant to become invasive, it must be reproducing successfully! Unlike its relative the scarlet firethorn, the fruit should never be consumed by humans (even after cooking) because they contain high levels of hydrogen cyannide.

The story of the Champlain rose hybrid

Species name: Rosa "Champlain" (see hybrid discussion below)

Common name: the Champlain landscape rose

Location: Ontario

At the beginning of June I blogged about a rose that we have in our garden, the pink Damask rose. I discussed the modern uses of roses aside from their ornamental use, which you can read all about HERE. One aspect of ornamental roses that I wanted to discuss, is the point that humans go to great lengths to achieve what we consider beauty in nature. This unsuspecting hybrid cultivar, which my neighbours have planted in their garden, is a perfect example of this never-ending pursuit of beauty. In the genus Rosa, there are somewhere between 100 and 150 different species depending on what expert you consult, with each one having drastically different characteristics. If we could find a way to select characteristics from each species to display in different hybrids, we could (in a way) "create" hybrids that would be very successful garden plants. Which we did. Approximately 5000 different times. Yes, there are an estimated 5000 different cultivars of roses of varying hybrid origins. Isn't that incredible?! That's a boatload of determination. So what went into making this hybrid?

To make the Champlain landscape rose, the series of steps to get from beginning to the end product that's planted in my neighbour's garden is no less complicated from start to finish or finish to start. So to be different, let's start with the end product: to create a Champlain hybrid, you must hybridize a Hybrid Tea rose with a Floribunda rose. Seems easy enough.

But, of course, it's not that easy. Because each of those are hybrids within themselves. The Floribunda rose is a hybrid between two different rose species, Rosa chinensis (China rose) and Rosa multiflora (multiflora rose). Easy enough! To get a Hybrid Tea rose, you need to cross a Hybrid Perpetual with a Tea rose. Interesting.

How do you get a Tea rose? This is a hybrid of two rose species, Rosa chinensis and Rosa odorata (scented rose). Again, easy enough. To get a Hybrid Perpetual rose, this is where things start to get a bit muddy. Making a Hybrid Perpetual, an incredibly popular garden rose because of its continuous flowering during the spring, summer and early fall, is incredibly complicated because it's made up entirely of recessive genes. Since most of these genes also carry disease susceptibility depending on species, you need to pick and choose what genes you get from which species. The easiest way to do this? Cross more hybrids to make second-generation hybrids! Yay! So a Hybrid Perpetual rose is created by crossing, in some seemingly random order, Hybrid China roses, Hybrid Bourbon roses, and Hybrid Noisette roses.

Alright, this is starting to get ridiculous. Because now we've got three more hybrids that we need to figure out how to make before we can even begin. To get a Hybrid Noisette, you have to cross Rosa moschata (Musk rose) with Rosa chinensis. To get a Hybrid China, you have to cross various cultivars of Rosa chinensis (can you see why I'm not a rose breeder now? This is giving me a headache). And last but not least, to get a Hybrid Bourbon you have to cross a Damask rose with one very specific cultivar, the "Old Blush" China rose (Rosa chinensis).

This brings us to our last hybrid cross, getting that Damask rose back that I first blogged about: a hybrid between Rosa moschata and Rosa gallica (French rose). Oh, what fun!

So to sum up, the species that go into making the genetic background of one cultivar of Hybrid Landscape rose are: Rosa chinensis, R. multiflora, R. odorata, R. moschata, and R. gallica in what seems like no less than one hundred steps. This doesn't even include the number of times a rose breeder had to cross different Hybrid Landscape roses together to get this specific flower colour, leaf colour, glossy leaves, red border around the leaf edge, red twig coloration, disease resistance, cold tolerance, and odor level. If this sounds like fun to you, perhaps you should strongly consider a career in rose breeding! There are about 5 companies that are giants worldwide for hybrid rose production, and I'm sure they're constantly looking for new staff. I'm not sure what would happen first: a new marketable rose cultivar or insanity...

The shrubby cinquefoil that's not a cinquefoil

Species name: Dasiphora fruticosa (formerly Potentilla fruticosa)

Common name: Shrubby cinquefoil

Location: Ontario

This plant is native to the Northern Hemisphere, but not to this area of Canada. The plant likely originated in northern Europe and Asia, and was introduced very early to North America. It has no potential to become invasive, and I would argue it has been incorporated in almost every way into our native flora of Ontario. It prefers growing in cool climates in subarctic or mountainous areas, and can tolerate dry conditions and saline soils. There has been a relatively intense effort to create new cultivars of this plant due to its attractiveness as an ornamental plant since it requires such little effort for upkeep. It is also very popular in Japan as a bonsai plant.

This plant is a great example of how DNA sequencing can show a different picture than what morphology tells us. The true cinquefoils, in the genus Potentilla, have compound leaves like this plant does but they have teeth along the edges while these leaflets are smooth. As far as morphology goes, that's probably not a significant enough difference to warrant putting a plant in its own genus, and so it was classified with the rest of the small, shrubby plants with yellow flowers and 5 petals that look a bit like buttercups (but you should now know why they're in the rose family!), and compound leaves with 5 to 7 leaflets. So far, DNA sequencing tells us that this is the only member of its genus, but that's probably only due to low sequencing effort; meaning that if more plants in the genus Potentilla and more plants in general that look like this one were sequenced, we would find that more species belong in this genus.

One negative aspect of this plant is that it acts as a prime food source and habitat for those pesky beetles that seem to become more and more numerous every summer in North America. Where there are more palatable food sources (like butterfly bushes, which are also numerous in North America) the bugs will prefer to eat those first, and just use the cinquefoil as a nighttime habitat. If you're into catching bugs by hand as a means of insect control instead of spraying, the hours right before sunset would be a good time to go out with an old pop bottle with a bit of vodka at the bottom to pick all of these guys off. The vodka ensures that they stay dead even when oxygen deprived (which these insects can actually tolerate for extended periods, which makes their control just that much more difficult).

Spiraea: one of the top potential invasive species

Species name: Spiraea japonica

Common name: Japanese spiraea

Location: Ontario

This species or ornamental plant is native to Japan (as the name suggests; but also China and Korea) but has been naturalized in North America and parts of Europe. This plant is normally kept under control in gardens, but has the potential to become invasive if left unchecked. It prefers riparian or boggy habitats, so the first place you'll notice this plant popping up if becoming invasive in an area is along roadside ditches. It's unfortunate that this is yet another species of potentially invasive plants that prefers moist habitats since our bogs, swamps and marshlands are already under such large threats by invasives already.

Since I profiled how to identify a plant as being a member of the mint family, Spiraea is a good example of how to identify a plant in the rose family. Members of the rose family have typical 5-petaled flowers, and the petals are roundish at the edges and narrow towards the interior of the flower to make a star-shape in the middle when the flower is fully open. The female parts of the flowers are very difficult to see, but the male parts are numerous (more often than not, more than 12 stamens). Spiraea in general is not a good example of this, but the leaves of the rose family also more often than not have something called a stipule at the bottom, which is like a "mini leaf" at the base of the leaf's petiole where it attaches to the stem. There are other families of plants that have stipules, but only this family has the characteristic 5-petaled flower (usually pink or white, but not always) with many male parts and stipules.

The arrow in red points to the stipule at the base of the petiole of a compound leaf in the rose family (from Wikipedia)

The roots of Spiraea plants have been used for hundreds of years in Traditional Chinese Medicine as an anti-inflammatory tea. Recently, a couple of researchers from China looked at whether or not root extract from Spiraea has biologically active chemicals, and they found five new alkaloids in the roots that do show anti-inflammatory effects in mice. The kinds of effects this could have on humans and the diseases it could be useful to help treat are numerous and scientific investigations are ongoing.