I grew this tamarillo from seed: isn't she magnificent!!
My dearest friend gave me a couple of the small, fragrant fruits a couple of years ago, and I invested in drying out the seeds, rather than even trying the taste of them. It took a while to find out the English name of the fruit, because as often happens here, many plants don't have such clearly-defined names! Turns out it is officially called Cyphomandra crassicaulis. It seemed like an interesting challenge to grow, as it seems to succeed - with winter protection - in the valley a few kilometres below here. I like to show folks how a microclimate can help a more tender plant flourish, even if it would not usually be so comfortable at this higher altitude. As in many places, the collective conscious here is very locked into limitation around food-growing - so ironic when we live in one of the more paradisical climates on Gaia Sophia!
I found a couple of pages about the tamarillo in my old Growing Unusual Vegetables and Food Plants books from the UK, which talk about it being quite more challenging to grow there (in south England, I presume they mean) and how it was used commerically, which is not so relevant. However, I got the sense that it had been cultivated very historically in Peru and this signifies it has a potent meaning and magic inherent to it.
excerpt from Growing Unusual Vegetables
excerpt from The Oxford Book of Food Plants
Anyways, this is the very first year she is fruiting! And HOW abundantly! The weight of the growing fruits was pulling her away from the wall, and I propped her up with a hefty post, but she might require more support.
I kept two of these plants - which had succeeded out of a few seeds thrown in pots - on the balcony for the first year, and only planted them out last year. I covered them fairly casually in the winter, but it was mild anyway.
The bigness of this tree - having come from such a small seed - really astonishes me, and makes me feel a strong sense of possibility and promise: of what can be achieved in co-creating with Nature. The vibrant beauty of such a plant is a spectacle in itself, and the company of a tree for years - at least to me - brings this sense of familiarity, like seeing a young family member mature.
Seeing the first flowers and then fruits this spring was emotional! They appeared just one or two bunches initially, then more kept appearing! Eventually they are now around 20 or so bunches, which is quite a big harvest for a new tree - I hope it'll come to full maturity, if everything unfolds rightly: it has been a dramatic year for many cultivate fruits, even in my very biodiverse garden...
The tree has required little maintenance, bar pulling out the more aggressive of the weeds below her. She is actually too close to two other plants, but cannot be moved now The tiny lemon tree in the corner doesn't really count, as there are several like that which were not so cleverly planted and have never flourished... and the caper above, which the tamarillo is now growing into, should be able to co-exist.
view of tamarillo from above
tamarillo and caper intertwined, flowering in unison!
I love so many aspects of this tree, not least of which is the bizarre smell of the leaves at certain times of the day and year, when one brushes them: a most intensely pungent smell which at first I found sooooo offensive!!
I even love the dried leaf forms, so interesting...
But when I pointed it out to someone else, they couldn't smell anything! Now it seems more calm a perfume: like a fiesty mix of musky urine and popcorn - actually, very like amrita!! So this suggests to me that this is a strongly sacred feminine tree. I have offered gift of my blood to her (in particular, around the letting go of my pregnancy, which completed at 5 and a half months), as I tend to do for new trees to give them power and nutriment, and this might be why she is so strong - it so might be why I feel so connected with her.
Today I was clearing the jungle just below her - and around the other tamarillo on the upper tier of Sergio's garden, which is awfully much smaller. And I was spraying just a little soapy water, whilst asking the aphids and ants to make their mischief elsewhere, grazie mille! They're not too intensive right now, but ants and aphids are notorious party animals, and when they get together they can trash a plant without thinking about the consequences for anyone else wanting to use the fruits or suchlike. So I have to be a firm and break up the excess - once they've had a wee bit of fun.
My Growing Unusual Vegetables book talks about the fruits being quite tart, but also says that there are various cultivars - red or yellow - from different parts of the world, but that it was originally from Peru. Maria the mother of my ex/ very good friend Vittorio, says that the fruits take 'too long' to mature! I am patient, and I love watching something grow slowly... I didn't take much more in from the book, just that they are eaten raw direct from the tree, and that they make great chutney or jam additions: yum! They are high in pectin it also says, which is great to know when chutney-or-jam-making. I wonder what else I'll find out before they ripen - any tips?
The other tree, as I mentioned is quite a lot less dramatic - and because some rampant and not very healthy grapevines were intruding on her space, as well as two carciofi growing too close, again the ants and aphids were taking advantage... I soaped them, after giving them fair warning this morning that I'd be doing this, if they didn't move on.... She might have other things keeping her small, like, she's not growing against a wall like the bigger one is. The residual heat of the wall helps enormously.
I put the second one here, because there is not much more wall space and it seemed like a good compromise for an experiment in tamarillo growing. Now I know better, and may move her, once the fruiting season is over. I'm not sure if they will get woody enough to take cuttings and grow more, but I really love them as an interesting and vital plant that is seems quite easy to grow from seed. I am not one for fussy or overly-sensitive plants - or any other type of thing/ being! I love it when anything living just takes off with minimal care. Finding the right spot for a plant certainly helps enormously with this - and also our loving care, presence, tweaking and checking can be essential. I feel that some plants are like cats - very independent really, but they flourish more when they are talked kindly to and fed well occasionally!
excerpt from The Oxford Book of Food Plants
I'd love to hear about any experience of growing tamarillo or albero di pomodoro. This one should be a dark red with darker maroon streaky dappled markings - they have a pointed tip, like a similar regular tomato variety from the flanks of Vesuvio - not far from here.
LOVE TO YOU AND YOUR GARDEN!
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