We're a nation of immigrants. So is our food.
Look at the vast array of produce in the supermarket. Where did all these fruits and vegetables originally come from? And how did they get here?
According to author Daniel Stone, we have one man to thank for the diversity of this bounty: David Fairchild.
More than a century ago, Fairchild traveled the world, in search of interesting (and delicious) crops that could be grown by American farmers. Traveling to every continent but Antarctica, Fairchild brought back thousands of possibilities.
Stone details Fairchild's remarkable adventures and contributions to American cuisine in his new book, "The Food Explorer: The True Adventures of the Globe-Trotting Botanist Who Transformed What America Eats" (Dutton, 416 pages, $28).
"If he had introduced just one or two of these foods, it would have been something," Stone said in a phone interview. "But he brought back so many. In the process, he transformed America's diet."
Among Fairchild's greatest hits: The avocado (from Chile), kale (from Croatia) and the Meyer lemon (from China). Just those three have a huge impact on what we eat now.
The avocado alone "should qualify Fairchild for sainthood," Stone quipped. "Fairchild grew up in Kansas. He called them 'alligator pears.' Few Americans had seen them before. In Chile, he found what was the ancestor to the Hass avocado. He shipped back a thousand of them, hoping some would survive."
That's just for starters, Stone added. Fairchild brought back soybeans (from Indonesia), peaches and oranges (from China), pomegranates (from Malta), nectarines (from Afghanistan), papayas (from Ceylon), red seedless grapes (from Italy) and hops (from Bavaria). He also was responsible for introducing dates, mangoes, pistachios and wasabi to the American table. In all, Fairchild is credited with more than 20,000 plant introductions to the U.S.
"He didn't limit himself to food," Stone noted. Fairchild also gets credit for introducing Americans to Egyptian cotton. The famous blooming cherry trees in Washington, D.C., were a Fairchild find in Japan.
What amazed Stone most was few people had ever heard of Fairchild. His Gilded Age exploits at the turn of the 20th century had been all but forgotten.
"I was thrilled by his story of food, adventure, travel and history," Stone said. "It's a story I'm glad I could tell."
Fairchild totally intrigued Stone, a confirmed foodie and fruit fan.
"I've always had an interest in fruit," he said. "I worked on the fruit research farm at UC Davis, studying strawberries and peaches. I also picked fruit (at a friend's farm) and sold it at the farmers market. I really loved it."
A Newsweek veteran, Stone now works as an editor for the National Geographic. He found that Fairchild's food explorations truly spanned the globe.
"His itinerary was amazing," Stone said. "He crossed the Andes by donkey. He cruised Malaysia for 40 days. He spent a month in Japan. He visited more than 50 countries, almost all by boat."
Pretty impressive considering most of his work for the U.S. Department of Agriculture was done between 1894 and 1904.
In some ways, Fairchild acted as a food spy, prying closely guarded seeds and propagation secrets out of countries that weren't always willing to share. (His assistant, Frank Meyer, smuggled that fateful lemon out of China.) He faced repeated dangers and disease in his pursuit of plants.
Not every find was a winner. Fairchild was very fond of personal-size dwarf pineapples (discovered in South Africa), but they never caught on with consumers.
"He had some spectacular failures," Stone said. "His favorite fruit was the mangosteen. It's not related to the mango; it's unique. Fairchild called it the 'queen of fruit.' But he couldn't get anyone to grow it. To this day, few people here know what it is."
Discovered by Fairchild in Indonesia, the mangosteen remains a rarity in the continental U.S. Inside its tough purple inedible skin is creamy white fragrant and juicy flesh. As for taste, think of a strawberry-peach smoothie made with vanilla ice cream. But the trees need hot, wet tropical conditions to produce and failed miserably in test groves.
Fairchild definitely proved lucky. He found the perfect benefactor in Barbour Lathrop, a millionaire philanthropist and world traveler who was based out of the Bohemian Club in San Francisco. When the USDA wouldn't fund Fairchild's requests, Lathrop did. He also accompanied the young botanist in his travels.
As an explorer and scientist, Fairchild was welcomed by other inventors and leaders in his day. He wrote about his encounters with President Teddy Roosevelt, the Wright Brothers and George Washington Carver. He married Alexander Graham Bell's daughter.
In his own exploration of Fairchild's life, Stone found treasures, too. "His family kept everything � his letters, notes, diaries," the 33-year-old author said. "Libraries and institutions also kept his papers. It really produced a rich book of firsthand source material."
Fairchild eventually settled in Miami, Fla. In nearby Coral Gables, the Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden (named for him by a friend) still grows plants from the explorer's personal collection.
As he tried to retrace at least some of the explorer's steps, Stone also tracked down Fairchild's surviving grandchildren in Canada and visited Japan.
"David really benefited from being in the right place," Stone noted. "His father was president of what's now Michigan State and Kansas State universities. David grew up surrounded by scientists and men of learning."
That helped feed his insatiable curiosity, a trait that carried him throughout his career. He always wanted to find more.
"He didn't bring back one kind of mango; he brought back 58 varieties," Stone said. "He was always flummoxed by America's propensity to be satisfied with so few things. Why be happy with only one variety when there are may be hundreds, thousands more out there that might be better?"
