Growers feel squeeze to sell a pinch of saffron

NAVELLI, Italy — The families in the medieval town of Navelli are so devoted to saffron, the precious spice they painstakingly cultivate and process by hand, that they stash the dried flower stigmas it comes from in the safest, driest place in the house: the matriarch's wardrobe.

"By tradition we don't eat it; it has always been what buys our children's shoes," said Agnese Di Iorio, 47, at an abandoned convent where Navelli's saffron growers meet most nights to package their product.

Instead, Aquila Saffron, or Zafferano Dell'Aquila, named for the region to which the village belongs, was carted away by spice traders in the Middle Ages and is now doled out in judicious pinches at upscale restaurants in Italy and abroad, a central ingredient of dishes such as risotto Milanese.

In 2005, saffron grown in Navelli was awarded Italy's "protected product" status, like Parmagiano Reggiano and prosciutto di Parma, acknowledging its extraordinary culinary status.

But for the 97 Navelli families that cultivate saffron — many have for generations — the spice means money and labor, helping them earn an extra $5,000 to $10,000 a year. It is grown in small plots and harvested before dawn each fall.

But since saffron season is so brief, fewer than two months from planting to harvest, growing it is no one's primary occupation.

"There is a saying here that at Christmas Mass you know who had a good season; you can smell it in their overcoats," Sandra Cantalini, who comes from a family of longtime growers, said of the long-standing practice of storing the dried saffron stigmas in a closet or armoire.

But the tradition of cultivating saffron, alive since the 13th century, is threatened by global competition from cheaper products from places such as Spain and India, an aging population whose children show little interest in the work, and most recently a powerful earthquake in April 2009 that disrupted the small, informal local networks that got the precious spice out of the wardrobes of Navelli and on to the global market.

The quake severely damaged the town center of Navelli's primary saffron-growing hamlet, Civitaretenga, which remains partly off-limits because so many of its ancient buildings were cracked or damaged.

"The clock tower fell; it was gone, just like that, " said Valentino Di Marzio, a small-factory owner who is president of the saffron-growers cooperative.

Though they can no longer buy and sell the spice at the market, the cooperative's members, whose day jobs include electrician, seamstress, store owner and housewife, continue to transform the bright orange stigmas of a fussy purple crocus into packets of spice.

They work in a room of a former convent owned by the local government, which also helped them buy a packaging machine for about $12,000. Until 2004, cooperative members sealed the bags with a hot iron.

Saffron, originally from the Middle East, has been a highly prized spice since at least the 7th century B.C. and was used as an ingredient in medicines, dyes and perfumes.

It is grown in a variety of countries, including India, Iran, Morocco, Spain, Greece and Italy. The different variants have diverse aroma and taste.

It is labor-intensive to produce, sold at up to more than $300 an ounce, or nearly $5,000 a pound. It takes 4,000 flowers to make an ounce of powder, though many chefs prefer to use the stigmas, called threads, whole.

Before large purchases, it is often lab-tested to verify that it contains no floral debris or artificial fillers, and to measure the content of the molecules that give the spice its flavor, aroma and color.

In Navelli, Di Marzio, the cooperative's president, described his devotion to the spice as a "passion." He added: "I inherited this knowledge from my father, so I found myself with this obligation."

In the offseason, the families tend to their bulbs and prepare the fields with sheep manure. The bulbs are planted in August and produce flowers in October. When the flowers blossom, they must be picked before dawn, while they are closed, so as not to lose any of the stigma's powder.

Each day, after picking, the orange, red-topped filaments must be separated out by hand; they are immediately dried over a fire of neutral wood, such as almond or oak, that do not impart their flavor to the product.

"You need the whole family to help because one or two people is not enough to do this work," said Cantalini. "For 15 days, you're up before the sun rises and you're really hustling for two hours."

Once the stigmas are dried, they are kept in the wardrobes during the year and brought to the former convent several nights a week, where the cooperative packages the saffron to fill orders. Some are sold whole in little glass jars and some are hand ground into powder.

A small field yields about a pound and a half, but that can bring a family about $8,000.