I used to abhor the sullen approach of winter. Cold days and frigid nights, frost nipping at my tender exotic plants, many a dark day spent indoors under saturated skies and persistent mud clinging to my shoes.
Yuck.
My opinion of the cold, soggy, daylight-starved wet season has changed, though, as a special tree has matured on my property. It produces the most delicious fruit from any locally grown plant I have tasted. I now hungrily look forward with great anticipation to the cold, wet months because it means I’ll soon be feasting on this exotic delicacy picked fresh from my own tree.
White Sapote is the name, and most of you probably have never heard of it. So let me tell you all about it.
The Latin name of this large evergreen tree is Casimoroa edulis. Native to Eastern Mexico, it was named in honor of Casimiro Gomez, who was killed in battle while valiantly fighting in Mexico’s War of Independence.
The tree can grow to 50 feet tall in its native habitat, but in California, it usually tops out at 20 to 30 feet.
Its five-fingered foliage is tinged red when new, then becomes shiny dark green on top and light green beneath. And because of its lustrous evergreen canopy and overall size and stature, Casimoroa edulis is somewhat reminiscent in appearance to an avocado tree.
Although it shares the look and same native range as the avocado, it’s curiously more genetically related to citrus, which originated on the other side of the planet, in Asia.
Like many other plants originally introduced into California, White Sapote was first brought to the Golden State by Spanish padres via the mission system. But of course, they were not the first to enjoy this fruit. Native Americans inhabiting central Mexico dined on sapotes for countless generations before Christopher Columbus bumped into some islands and was convinced he discovered the westward passage to Asia.
The native cultures believed in the calming properties of the sapote, and it took many modern labs and numerous experiments by pharmacological experts to confirm what ancient Native Americans already knew — the sapote could induce sleep. The ancient Nahuatl name for the fruits is “cochiztzapotl,” which translates to “sleepy sapote” or “sleep-producing sapote.”
The 3- to 6-inch wide roundish green fruit is born on small, inconspicuous and odorless flowers arranged in panicle groupings. This often results in clusters of multiple fruit hanging from one central stem.
Once it has been set, the fruit takes 6 to 9 months to ripen. And although the main ripening season in the Bay Area is January through March, some varieties, such as ‘Suebelle,’ will bear fruit almost year-round.
Right now, my trees have light yellow mature ripe fruit, medium-sized green fruit, small freshly set fruit and flowers. This means I’ll be eating sapotes for quite some time this season.
You’re probably wondering what the darned things taste like. Imagine a creamy, custardlike sweet fruit with a unique fusion of ripe banana and pear. And as an extra bonus, occasional small chunks of crystalline sugar embedded in the fruit will awaken and surprise your sweet tooth. After that, all you’ll think about is more, more, more. You could turn into a sapote addict like me.
And if you’re also lazy like me, you’ll forego peeling off the thin yellow skin and just gobble up the fruit whole, minus the large seeds that resemble oversized citrus pits.
And speaking of pits, you’ll likely be tempted to plant those seeds and create more sapote fruit to drool over. But nature is seldom that easy when it comes to the things we love. Like avocados, trees derived from germinated seed will not set fruit for at least 7 to 8 years, if at all. And even if they produce fruit, they will probably be inferior to the fruit you crave.
It is best to purchase a tree that has a named grafted selection that will have the ability to produce reliable fruit immediately upon purchase, regardless of age.
But will that tree grow where you live? Most likely. Although white sapote is a subtropical fruit, it is remarkably hardy. Mature trees can handle temperatures down to 20 degrees without much damage. They will grow anywhere the common sweet orange can, which is most all of California’s low elevations.
Like young citrus, baby sapote trees are much more tender to cold than their established adult counterparts, and so they should be blanketed overhead with frost protection cloth or burlap draped over a wire cage for the first few winters they are getting established.
The trees do best in full sun and appreciate good drainage. Because of their greedy and deep roots, once established they can endure moderate drought conditions and still produce an attractive, thick head of foliage and ample fruit.
Surprisingly, the ample fruit is the chief drawback to this plant. After a decade in the ground, the tree will produce way more fruit than any normal family could consume — up to a ton from just one large tree. Invariably, this means mushy, rotting fruit on the ground. So keep this mind when you decide upon placement and what you could get in trade from your neighbors to rid yourself of this nuisance that they will value like gold.
You’re probably wondering why, if this fruit is so great, we don’t see it in grocery stores. Good question.
The skin of the fruit bruises easily during shipment, and it has a very short shelf life once ripe. It’s best picked ripe off the tree, but can be picked hard and allowed to soften to ripeness in your countertop fruit bowl, once again, like an avocado.
The sapote will yield to mild pressure when ripe. At this point, you have two, maybe three days to eat it before it turns to mush. You will gain a few extra days by refrigerating your harvest.
Gary Gragg is the host of HGTV’s “Superscapes” and an award-winning landscape designer who also owns Golden Gate Palms and Exotics in Point Richmond. Contact him through jmorris@bayareaynewsgroup.com.
