It is the time of year that at this blog’s beginning we could onlydream about. If you look for a Pawpaw fruit in the forest you will likely come up empty handed. They’re just too popular to last long. However in my yard where they are grown there are many anti-creeper measures in effect around the trees, and the fruit is piling up to be sold or eaten- by me, when permission is grumpily granted.
When I eat a Pawpaw, I have standing orders to save the seeds, to be kept in the refrigerator so that they can be tricked into thinking they survived the winter and the time has come to sprout. Their sweet new shoots will be kept safe in a greenhouse. But since the Pawpaw is like the apple and does not stay true to its mom and dad, turning instead into a wild thing, most of these delicious numbers are produced by grafting. These seeds here will sprout the tree onto which a bud from an established Pawpaw variety will eventually be basically taped.
Mmm, custard-apple fruit. Makes me feel like I should be on a mountain overlooking the Caribbean with my feet up. But on this sunny day with the fall colors starting to break through I am glad that this native tree left its family behind in the tropics and came up here to live by me. Thanks of course to the source of these goodies, the Grumpy Old Man.