Guava: Psidium guajava

Guava: Psidium guajava

This is one of several guavas I've started. This guy is the biggest of the lot, a plain old green guava (white flesh); the seed came from fresh fruit. How the seed ended up in a random pot is undetermined, but one day in March, I found a sprout, and it has slowly grown since. Guavas take their own sweet time in sprouting, and in their infancy tend to grow very slowly, though that allegedly will change quite a bit in time. We shall see.

In the meantime, I've also started red guavas, cattley guavas, and feijoas from seed - at this point they are just sprouting their initial sets of true leaves. The red guavas are the most impressive - a bit beffier in size than their relatives. We'll see how they progress...

Citrus!

Top to bottom, left to right:
Tangelo (Minneoloa), Yuzu, Pummelo, Lemon (Eureka), Kumquat (Nagami), Yuzu

More than anything else, the citrus seem to be loving life right about now. These are all seed grown - I also have a seed-grown sudachi, and two larger grafted citrus (another yuzu, and a calamondin, which are both in the midst of a ferocious growth flush at the moment). The dry spring seems perfect for them all - lots of haze-free sunny skies, daytime temps between 75 and 90, with nights that have varied from the upper 30s to around 60. They have been growing very steadily.

The lemon - a year old now - has grown to about a foot tall.

The tangelo is also about a year old, and struggled mightily (many snail attacks) in its' early months. It has recovered considerably, is a bit shrubbier and currently stands about 8 inches tall.

The pummelo has been extremely vigorous, and is now sporting its' first spines. At barely 5 months of age, it's about 6 inches tall.

The kumquats likewise have been pretty vigorous, and likewise have a spine or two on them now; they are about 4 inches.

The seed-grown yuzus and the sudachi are both also about 4 inches. They are a bit more lush and less lanky in their appearance, with clusters of papeda-style leaves (the winged petiole characteristic of all papeda citrus) which has a vaguely spicy scent. Some, but not all, of the new shoots on the sudachi have been purple-tinged, like kaffir limes or ichang papedas.

Each of them are growing a new leaf or two a week at this point. The larger grafted trees are covered in more than a dozen new branches each, each with many clusters of small glossy leaves.

Cocona: Solanum sessiliflorum

Cocona: Solanum sessiliflorum

The cocona has enjoyed the warm spring as well. These guys have been transplanted since the pic was taken, and are sporting large, furry hand-shaped leaves. They haven't grown up as much as they've grown out; it's my understanding that coconas are a bit slow to mature. Nevertheless, they are short - but very sturdy looking...

Cape gooseberry: Physalis peruviana

Cape Gooseberry: Physalis peruviana

Whoa! More than a month since the last post! Such slackness!

We have headed into a typically unpredictable Carolina spring - the normally wet month of April has gone out with a scant and scary 0.56 of rain recorded for the entire month. Great yellow explosions of pine pollen befouling the atmosphere, instigated by a bone-dry month of 80- and 90-degree temps, steady breezes, and nary a drop of rain. Arrrrgh!

With liberal watering, my various plants have been unaffected, thus far at least.

This guy is the sole survivor of my cape gooseberry seedlings. The seeds had a low germination rate, which may explain their relative lack of popularity, in spite of awesome fruit. Nonetheless, this lone survivor has surged to over a foot tall. I'm having to water almost daily, but it's doing quite well. I've never grown them before, so I am wondering where it will go from here - when to expect blooms or fruit.

As solanaceae (nightshades) go, it's more attractive than most - an added bonus.

Solanum Springtime!

Top to bottom:
Pepino: Solanum muricatum
Cape Gooseberry: Physalis peruvianum
Cocona: Solanum sessiliflorum
Naranjilla / Lulo: Solanum quitoense

These are some of the solanaceae I've got going at the moment; these pics were taken during the first week of March, 2010, so they are a little larger now. During late January and early February, I started seeds for pepino, cape gooseberry, cocona, naranjilla, currant tomato, sungold tomato, and tamarillos. At various points through late February and early March they all began to emerge.

Solanaceae sprouts all look remarkably similar - following the sun, they will twist and bend over the course of the day, and I will need to stake them all at some point. Even the plants which will (my fingers are crossed) grow to formidable size (tamarillo, cocona and naranjilla) are still might frail looking at the sprout stage. All of them are variably covered in a fine, velvety peach fuzz.

The lankiest of them have been the cape gooseberries, which allegedly can mature and fruit in a few months' time. They are most closely related (within the solanaceae universe) to tomatillos, milperos and ground cherries, and like all of those, the fruit (a berry about the size of a grape tomato) is enclosed in a papery husk.

I expect the naranjilla may prove to be the most difficult of the lot. Naranjillas are very sensitive to frost, heat, wind, and direct sunlight. They can be large plants (3 to 10 feet tall, with a 3 or 4 foot-wide spread), and they can be very spiny. Root nematodes can destroy them. They are heavy feeders, and love water, though they must also have perfect drainage. In North Carolina, they almost demand indoor growing (they are shade-lovers), but are intolerant of low humidity, which can be typical of indoor 'houseplant' situations; thus they need to be misted. They are notoriously shy in setting fruit. But the delicate and rather perishable fruit - which is revered in Colombia and Ecuador (the plant's native turf) - is allegedly dynamite: a rich pineapple/lime/rhubarb flavor, combined with a tomato-esque texture. Am I up for this challenge? I had a lower rate of germination with naranjilla than with any other solanaceae, but the one sprout that did emerge has steadily grown into a sturdy, 2" seedling.

Cocona is a very close relative; cocona and naranjilla belong to a subfamily within the solanaceae (the lasiocarpa group) that also includes baquicha, pseudolulo, and a number of other solanums which all have a shrubby growth habit, large heart-shaped leaves, spines (usually), and occasionally edible fruit. Cocona is a bit hardier than naranjilla, a little smaller, and somewhat easier to cultivate; the fruit is somewhat more tomato-like, but with a very pronounced lemony quality. Thus far, 5 or 6 of the cocona seeds sprouted; they look a lot like the naranjilla, but shorter and stockier.

The pepino seeds were cut from a fresh fruit; they sprouted in about 10 days. The sprouts have grown tall, but are the frailest of the lot - extremely delicate looking. All of the solanums really love water.

The currant tomatoes and sungolds emerged in a week's time, and have grown rather aggressively.

Tamarillos seem - to me - to be the hardest to start from seed. As of mid-March, I have one tiny sprout emerging. Perhaps this is a signal - tamarillos are incredible as a fresh fruit; I love them, though they certainly have a quirky flavor. They are notoriously large plants, and I don't have infinite space, so perhaps it's just as well. However, if they decide to grow, I will make space for them.

Yuzu II: The Return

In late December, I decided to do a bit of holiday shopping for myself, and some good fresh fruit was certainly on the list. One of the few things I like about winter is the variety of fruit that comes into season in various parts of the country, though one does have to be enterprising to locate some of it.

I was eager to get some fresh yuzu, and since my container tree (a 2-foot grafted tree) has done well, but is nowhere close to fruit-bearing age, I decided to see if I could find some online. In my investigations, I came across an organic farm out in California, called White Dove Passion Fruit Farm. They have a nice variety of fresh fruit available at various times, though I'm sure that local demand probably means that one would need to be timely in ordering. I was especially intrigued by their selection of feijoa and rare citrus. I ordered some yuzu from them, and this turned out to be quite a treat.

Yuzu has been cultivated in Japan for more than a thousand years; their are records of yuzu cultivation in China before then. Far more recently, yuzu have come into vogue in gourmet circles elsewhere in the world, and it's a fruit that certainly deserves its' formidable reputation. Reminiscent of the finer points of several other citrus fruits - a general lemon-like flavor (but not as sour), easy to peel and very juicy (like a tangerine), with a hint of a spicy aftertaste (like a key lime), and a faint trace of grapefruit bitterness (not enough to be an annoyance, but rather a quality that lends extra complexity to the flavor), I found yuzu to be fantastic. The fruit is intensely fragrant, with a slightly spicy lemon-meets-grapefruit aroma, and I will need to look into some citrus recipes to try with the new batch that I've ordered; the rich flavor of yuzu is suitable for both sweet and savory uses, and should offer a flavor quite distinct from other citrus.

Yuzu's lone drawback is its' extraordinary seediness - a common issue in papeda citrus (sudachi, shangjuan [ichang lemon], kabosu, kaffir lime, and some rarely eaten fruits like khasi, biasong and ichanderins are all papedas or papeda hybrids with various other citrus). I decided to work around this by planting the large and numerous seeds, so perhaps I'll have a nice crop of seedlings in another month or so.

As for White Dove Passion Fruit Farm, I have since placed some additional orders with them. Their customer service, selection, and fruit quality is top-notch. Even if it is cross-country, it is wonderful to find a source for quality rare fruit.

Feijoa: Acca sellowiana

(feijoa: acca sellowiana)
october 2009
carrboro, north carolina

My plants - a total of 5, which range in size from 6" seedlings to a 2' plant, aren't yet mature enough to produce fruit, and getting feijoas to set fruit is notoriously challenging, so who knows if they ever will? Still, an absolutely stunning fruit isn't the only virtue with feijoas.

If you have eaten a feijoa, you know that it's one of the most delicious things in the world: the fruit looks a bit like a dull, green avocado. Sliced lengthwise into two halves, much of the flesh is of a texture reminiscent of a soft pear, slightly granular, though not as granular as a pear. At the center, there's a pocket of sweet, jelly-like pulp, containing a large number of very tiny seeds.

And what of the flavor? The flavor and fragrance are both reminiscent of a very strong mixture of strawberry and pineapple. The flavor is somewhat layered - the firm flesh beneath the rind approaches a citrus-like level of tartness, while the soft pulp at the center is very, very sweet. Scooping the flesh from each half mixes the sweet and sour parts of the fruit, producing a phenomenally complex, shape-shifting flavor.

Feijoas also produce equally dramatic flowers, and those flowers - while spectacular in appearance - do not produce nectar. Thus, they don't attract insects very well, so pollination is a bit tricky. The edible petals are sweet, and attractive to hummingbirds (which will eat the petals, while pollinating the remainder of the flower in the process); otherwise hand pollination and luck are the only way to get fruit. This difficulty explains the relative rarity of feijoas in supermarkets, though they are cultivated in Australia and New Zealand (where they are enormously popular), and their native Argentina.

My plants are interesting. They are steady growers - overall they are rather petite and shrubby, but with a very sprawly, lanky habit. The leaves are a rich, deep green, with a soft, whitish peach fuzz on the undersides; their deep coloring contrasts nicely with the bark, which is cinnamon-colored.

When mature, feijoas are hardy to about 15 degrees, though they are considerably more frost sensitive when young, as I discovered in mid-December, when my largest plants were left out a little too long, and suffered some frost burn on the youngest leaves, with some limpness in the branches. However, I also discovered that they are very resilient, shaking off the superficial damage within a day, with no serious or permanent injury. Likewise, they are intolerant of extreme heat, entering some degree of dormancy at 90 degrees (they will remain healthy, but visible growth will come to an absolute stop until temperatures cool off); temperatures over 100 will do serious damage. Growing them out of doors in North Carolina would be a major gamble both in winter and summer, except in coastal locations. Their modest size makes them excellent container plants however!