Meet The Pear Whisperer Who Outsmarted The Dreaded Psylla Insect and Revived Red Hook’s Orchards

Pieter Staats stared up into the tree, eyes moving carefully over his crop, and beamed. “Look at this,” he said, carefully fondling an almost-ripe Bartlett, a hint of pink shining through the yellow pear patina. “We worked very hard for these. They’re beautiful.”

Staats then spied the leaves, a shiny forest green, most free of spots and curling. Then, he nodded to two pear pickers as they maneuvered a 12-foot aluminum ladder through the orchard. “I could hug this tree,” Staats said, pausing. “We’re looking at the finest, nicest pears in the Hudson Valley, certainly ones we haven’t had in a very long while.”

In the search to create a healthy organic pear for the 20 acres of trees at Migliorelli Farm on Guski Road, Staats in 2025 made inordinate and totally unexpected progress. Using a tactical and targeted regimen from Washington State, he stopped the dreaded pear psylla insect in its tracks.

The results now dangle from the branches and twigs — 7,000 bushels, some 350,000 pounds, of clean pears: Bartletts, Anjous, Boscs, and Asians. Some will be retailed at Migliorelli’s eight farmers’ markets in New York City, Kingston, and Rhinebeck, and at three Migliorelli roadside stands. Others will be sold wholesale; Migliorelli says he can’t wait to contact Adam’s Fairacre Farms to offer up the bounty.

“This is a game-changer,” said Staats, 65, who has studied fruit and vegetable farming, diesel mechanics, and farm management at half a dozen schools, including Cornell Cooperative Extension. Added Migliorelli, as he shook Staats’ hand, “This man worked magic out here.”

Pear psylla, a tiny but destructive insect, is a major threat to pear orchards across the Northeast and beyond (watch our mini-documentary). Roughly the size of an aphid or a sesame seed, the adult psylla resembles a miniature cicada, with clear wings folded over its body like a roof. It overwinters in tree bark and, as spring arrives, lays eggs on pear twigs and buds.

When the eggs hatch, the young nymphs feed on the sap of leaves and shoots, injecting toxins that stunt growth and cause leaf curling, blackened honeydew, and sooty mold. That means a less healthy leaf surface for photosynthesis, which directly reduces the trees’ ability to produce sugars and energy. Without that energy, the tree can’t properly size, ripen, or sweeten the fruit.

Heavy infestations of psylla can even kill young pear trees. Left unchecked, the populations can build up rapidly through several generations each growing season, making vigilant monitoring and integrated pest management critical for growers, according to Staats.

In recent years, some pear growers in the Hudson Valley have abandoned growing pears — a pity, Staats says, because this area has the well-drained glacial soils pears love and the four-season climate they need. There is also a deep tradition, history, and expertise in growing fruit in the Hudson Valley, launched by the Dutch, Staats’ forefathers, in the 17th century. Also, access to New York City has supported a thriving orchard economy, Migliorelli said.

“The problem is psylla really do a number,” said Staats, so much so, he noted, that Clarke Family Farms in Milton, which used to farm 60 acres of pears, now has just three. Migliorelli is now the Hudson Valley’s largest grower and determined to keep pears in its regimen, which includes 120 varieties of fruits and vegetables on 250 acres: 40 acres of 20 apple varieties, 15 acres of tomatoes, 80 acres of sweet corn, and 12 acres of peaches, nectarines, apricots, and cherries.

“We can grow turnips, Brussels sprouts, broccoli, corn, peaches, you name it,” Staats said, noting the 25 years he’s worked with Migliorelli. “But we kept losing pears. Put a challenge like that in front of me, and I’m going to find a way to beat it.”

For several years, Staats has been on the prowl for a recipe to control the insect. After chatting with fellow farmers, researching online into the night, and enrolling in course after course, he heard in 2020 about protocols emerging in Washington State from the state’s pear belt: Wenatchee and the Yakima Valley. He decided to give the full regimen a try for 2025. Instead of relying heavily on chemicals, the protocol calls for a mix of smart timing, natural predators, and organic chemical agents that specifically target the psylla.

Early in the season, in early March, Staats sprayed 60 gallons of diluted horticultural oils, which are organic, across the trees.

Right after that, Staats applied 50 pounds per acre of a fine clay powder called kaolin – half a ton for the whole orchard – that is accepted under USDA Organic standards as a pest control tool. Staats used it to coat the Migliorelli orchard trees to discourage the insects from laying eggs. “After we were done in March, it looked like Christmas out here with no leaves and trees adorned in white,” Staats told The Daily Catch.

Then, he laid down Esteem 35 WP, an insect growth regulator that sterilizes the eggs and any hatchlings that manage to emerge. “This is all to make psylla moms miserable,” Staats said. He only has seven days, the window during which the regulator will remain active.

The Washington State system also tracks beneficial insects, such as ladybugs, predatory earwigs, lacewings, spiders, and wasps, which are already present in the orchard. Therefore, Staats held back on spraying when nature was doing the work.

“Together, these tactics helped keep psylla in check while reducing chemical use and protecting fruit quality,” said Staats. “I used to do a weekly spray of insecticides, every seven days. Now I can go four weeks without a spray.” 

A microscopic eyepiece attached to his head, Staats spent early spring months constantly monitoring the insects, checking for eggs and instar stages when the psylla is molting. At several points, he didn’t like what he saw and he went back in with another round of growth regulator.

While these treatments are not organic, they are so targeted that they don’t harm butterflies, honeybees, or other crucial pollinators. “It’s about as clean as you can get and still have pears,” Staats said. He also applied them at night when beneficial pollinators were not flying in the orchard.

Migliorelli’s pear yield per acre for 2025 is approaching that of Washington State, which had approximately 18,100 acres of pear orchards statewide in 2024, with an average yield of about 10.6 tons per acre. Migliorelli is expecting to yield nearly nine tons of pears per acre, and possibly more, when harvesting begins, in earnest, in two weeks. Between now and then, he waits patiently for the fruit to plump up.

As each sank his teeth into a Bartlett, Migliorelli and Staats couldn’t help grinning over their newfound success. “That’s a great pear,” said Migliorelli, chomping down for a second bite. Staats chimed in. “You’d better grab these winners, or there won’t be any left,” he said.

But the men agree it’s too early to declare the psylla problem solved. “Every year, we have new issues, and the problems could come back next year,” said Migliorelli. “With fruit, you are never ever done solving problems.”

The post Meet The Pear Whisperer Who Outsmarted The Dreaded Psylla Insect and Revived Red Hook’s Orchards first appeared on The Daily Catch.