There are tiny cults surrounding a few types of avocados here in Southern California, home of the now-worldwide avocado industry.
Some people remain forever fans of the original commercial avocado variety, Fuerte. It has a cool (or should I say, strong) story of how it was brought up from Mexico and rose to prominence in the nascent avocado industry of Southern California. But more importantly, it’s nutty flavor is unsurpassed. I count myself among those who think it is still the best tasting avocado on the planet — among the avocado varieties that I’ve tasted, anyway.
A few connoisseurs worship a variety called Jan Boyce. It is, in a way, the opposite of the world’s most popular variety, Hass, which everyone has tasted: almost no one has tasted Jan Boyce. But those who have find it remarkable, with a small seed and unique-tasting flesh. They get poetic about how good it tastes.
Then there is the cult of Reed. Most Reed fanatics live in San Diego County, where this variety first grew. People who love avocados around here visit farmer’s markets in late summer to hunt for these softball-sized fruit. Growers love Reed because the trees are prolific, year after year. My Reed avocado tree is entering its fifth year in the ground, and it has yet to have an “off” year.
Perhaps, however, my favorite thing about Reeds is that they can be made into personal bowls of guacamole. They remind me of sourdough bread bowls of clam chowder. I cut a Reed avocado in half, slice the flesh up a bit, and then fill the seed cavity with salsa — grab a tortilla chip and dig in. Reeds can do this better than most other varieties because the shape of the fruit is relatively round so it is easy to hold and dip into, and the peel of a Reed is shell-like so it doesn’t easily get cut up when you slice the flesh.
A Reed avocado personal bowl of guacamole is far and away my favorite summer afternoon snack, which never actually ends up being personal because my two sons always hover and beg for another chip and dip, and another and another and another.
If you don’t have your own Reed avocado tree, you can look for the fruit at farmer’s markets in Southern California from now (late June) through the fall. Also, I have seen Whole Foods Markets in the area selling them in the past. If you’re not in Southern California, you’re probably never going to find the fruit, unfortunately. They don’t ship well. But you might consider planting your own Reed tree — even if you have a small yard, as I wrote about here.
The other day I had a good time giving a talk about growing citrus to the Lake San Marcos Garden Club, and a couple of people asked me about pruning. My impression is that most of us think that, as a general rule, all fruit trees need to be pruned. It’s simply not true, especially regarding citrus. In contrast to this mistaken notion I’d say that, as a general rule, citrus should not be pruned. I can think of only a couple of exceptions to this rule.
In my yard I grow eight citrus trees, and out of those eight I only ever touch two with my pruners, each for a different reason.
Prune to keep a citrus tree small
I give our Bearss lime tree haircuts because I want it to stay small, to about the height of my three year-old son. It already produces more limes than we use at that diminutive size. Once a year I prune it by just trimming off every branch that is taller than I want, or by handing Cass the pruners.
Five year-old lime tree being pruned by a three year-old boy.
Prune to shape a citrus tree
I also prune our large Valencia orange tree. It’s 25 feet tall, and I’ve never tried to trim the top. Rather, I prune the sides and interior to create an umbrella shape. I keep its skirt a few feet off the ground and then I keep the inside pruned high enough that we can walk around under it so that it feels like an outdoor living room. I prune up a couple of spots on its canopy edge to make doorways for entrance. Shaping this citrus tree in this way makes it a very comfortable spot to sit in the shade on a summer day.
I’ve even hung a swing from one of its branches.
Keeping a tree small like my lime and shaping a tree like my Valencia are the only two good reasons I can think of for pruning citrus. There are plenty of bad reasons though.
Don’t lace a citrus tree
The worst reason, or way, to prune a citrus tree that I’ve encountered is opening up the tree’s canopy so the interior gets sunlight. That can be a good idea for some other types of fruit trees, like plums and peaches. It’s definitely not advisable for citrus, however.
Why not? I once did a home consultation at a multi-million dollar residence in Rancho Santa Fe where the owners had put in an orchard of a few dozen fruit trees and then their hired gardener had pruned all of the citrus trees just like the peaches and plums. The foliage had been thinned, entire branches had been cut out, the canopies had a skeletal look, and the effect was that you could see lots of light going through the trees and hitting the interior branches.
Why are our citrus trees dying? the owner asked me. All of those interior branches now exposed to the sun were cracking and blackened from sunburn. Yes indeed, trees get sunburned.
If you want to keep a citrus tree small or shape it, then trim the outside like you would trim a hedge. Don’t cut out entire branches and expose interior parts of the tree that are used to being shaded. Have a look at this video showing how citrus farmers mechanically prune their trees. This farm is in Spain, but the same technique is used here in Southern California, and the world over.
A citrus expert once told me that if a citrus tree is in prime health, then if you look at its canopy you won’t be able to see any light or sky through it. It should be a dense green globe.
A couple of other no-good reasons to prune citrus include cutting out dead or crossing branches. That’s just a big old waste of your time. Do it if you have nothing better to do, but your citrus tree couldn’t care less if some of its branches are crossing or are dead and hanging. Both are harmless and natural. I don’t cut out any dead or crossing branches on my citrus trees and they’ve never complained about it.
Also, if aphids or leafminers or other insects have damaged the leaves of your citrus tree, don’t waste your time cutting those damaged leaves out. They’re still capable of photosynthesizing and contributing to the growth and fruitfulness of the tree even though they’re not completely healthy. Pruning them out won’t make a significant difference to the insect population in the tree either. Better to adjust your aesthetic sensibility than cut up the tree, in terms of the health of the tree.
Lastly, and here’s a bit of a twist, do pay attention to what’s growing from low down on the trunk of your citrus tree. I don’t think of this as pruning, but it’s really important that if any branch starts growing from below the graft (bud) union of your citrus tree you immediately remove it. If you’re unsure of what I mean by that, then please read my post titled, “Beware of rootstock suckers on citrus.” It might save the life of your tree.
Isn’t it a relief, though, to know that your citrus tree knows how to grow pretty well on its own? That’s why you can find citrus trees thriving even in Southern California yards that have been neglected for years. And that’s why every Southern California yard should have a citrus tree, or eight.
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Kids grow fast, as do avocado trees — especially when planted over a power-packed placenta. Oddly, prior to looking through the retrospective below, I had felt rushed for both of them to hit some developmental marks even faster.
As of today, Cass can legibly write most of the letters in his name, but he continues to do this curious thing where he writes his c’s backwards.
And as for his Fuerte avocado tree, my aim has been that it produces fruit for Cass to eat and that it develops a broad branching structure for him to climb. The tree is healthy, but it has yet to produce fruit, and it’s not yet big enough for Cass to climb.
Alas, sometimes you get focused on goals, on achieving results, but miss the wonders of the process along the way.
Just planted and just born, 2014.
One year old, 2015.
Two years old, 2016.
Three years old, 2017.
I’m determined to enjoy processes more. We’re not promised another day on this Earth. The process is really all we have.
It’s now a good time to start planting new avocado trees, as the danger of any serious arctic air blowing down our way has passed. I just planted the one in the photo above, on February 10, 2017. It’s a Hass from a five-gallon container. How long can I expect to wait for an avocado tree like this to bear fruit? Three to four years. That’s in the year 2020 or 2021.
I get such an expectation from the fact that the last Hass tree I planted was in July 2013, and we are currently eating its first fruit here in 2017. So, four years of waiting and we now have 73 Hass avocados on that tree.
But I planted some other avocado trees in July 2013 as well, and we ate the first fruit from two of them last year. That’s three years from planting to eating the first fruit — although we did only get from them a combined 15 avocados. This year, they have a more respectable 63. Here they are, the early birds, the Reed and Lamb:
Four-year old Reed and Lamb trees today with their second crops of 35 and 28 avocados, respectively.
My trees seem to be average. A couple of people with much more avocado experience than me, Mary Lu Arpaia and Ben Faber, also say that new trees start to bear fruit in three or four years. (This linked page contains a great list of other frequently asked questions about avocados, by the way.)
While trees typically bear in three to four years, you may get fruit earlier or later for a few reasons. On one hand, if you buy a bigger tree — 15-gallon size — you’re likely to get fruit earlier. That’s because the bigger tree will produce more flowers (and therefore potential fruit). Also, if you have an excellent environment for pollination, with many other avocado trees around and many pollinators like honeybees visiting the flowers, you’re likely to get fruit earlier. Avocado trees of the five-gallon size will often set fruit at nurseries each spring for this reason.
On the other hand, your tree might take longer than four years to give you fruit if you prune it hard or if a winter freeze kills many branches or if it is otherwise damaged — for example, by poor irrigation. In July 2013, I also planted a Sir-Prize avocado tree, but the Sir-Prize has yet to give us fruit and I’m pretty sure it’s because I’ve pruned it hard the last couple years in order to shape it. Every spring it has flowered lightly, but only next year will it have the large canopy size to flower heavily and, hopefully, set its first crop.
Another reason an avocado tree might take more than four years to bear fruit is if it is grown from seed and not grafted. In general, seedlings take longer to bear fruit than grafted trees. A seedling in my mom’s backyard took about six years before it produced fruit.
Does waiting the typical three to four years for an avocado tree to bear fruit seem like a short or long time to you? It seemed like forever when I planted those trees back in 2013. But forever has arrived, and it tastes amazing. As it has been said, “Patience is bitter but its fruit is sweet.”
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Opinions on how to prune deciduous fruit trees are innumerable. I have just one: Keep your tree small.
I believe it’s the single best thing you can do if you want your tree to produce fruit and you want to pick and eat that fruit.
A small tree’s fruit is easy to pick. In fact, by “small” I mean within reach, which is different for everyone but is usually six to ten feet tall. The fruit on such a tree is in your face — you just reach out and grab it. Some of the fruit on my trees are even low enough to be in the face of my two-year old son, so he also just reaches out and grabs it. (That’s good and bad. He has a hard time not grabbing it before it’s ripe.)
But if you let a tree get tall, then the fruit is borne primarily high up, out of reach. Trees generally fruit most in the part of their canopy that gets the most sunlight, and that’s toward the outer and upper part of their canopy. I once had a plum that was 15 feet tall, and while a bit of the fruit was within reach, most of it was out of sight and only accessible by ladder or pole, or squirrels and birds. In the end, most of that fruit was lost to the critters. My current plum is seven feet tall and I have never lost a single piece of fruit to animals, and despite its smaller size it is still big enough to produce more fruit than we can eat.
A small tree can be protected if necessary. My aunt has a small peach tree which she easily covered with a net once the birds discovered her fruit and started pecking it this last summer. Try covering a 15-foot tall peach with a net!
Yet I haven’t even found the need to net my own small trees. My Blenheim apricots attract scrub jays as soon as the fruit begins to sweeten. The birds peck some of the ripe fruit but don’t ruin it. That fruit is at head height on my tree, so I immediately notice it and pick it. I take their peckings as a sign of ripeness. “Eat this fruit, Greg. It’s ready.” There’s still so much more fruit on that little tree that the birds never touch.
I don’t like the idea of telling you how you should grow your fruit trees. Truly, do whatever you want. But after having many trees both big and small, I’ve found that small is better. I’m in good company, by the way. I don’t know of many people with a lot of experience with deciduous fruit trees who let their own trees get big anymore.
So, how to achieve this goal of a small tree? The topic of pruning can be studied for a lifetime, but the achievement of a small and productive fruit tree can be had with very little knowledge and little work. For each one of my trees, I prune them once in the winter (just finished my pruning yesterday) and once or twice in the summer. The total time involved is around an hour per year per tree.
What do you need to know in order to do the pruning? Tough question because obviously the more you know the better your pruning is likely to be. On the other hand, you could literally shear your fruit tree as though it were a shrub and still get decent results. Shearing a fruit tree is actually a thing, the “fruit bush” style it is called sometimes. Try it, or dive deeper into the resources below, which are the best ones I know of.
The Home Orchard published by the University of California (this is an Amazon link, but your local library might have it too — I borrowed this book from the library many times before I bought my own copy)
Chuck Ingels, a University of California Cooperative Extension Farm Advisor, presents on growing deciduous fruit trees to a group of Master Gardeners in this video called “The Home Orchard Part 1.” The pruning section starts at 36 minutes. This video is great because Ingels explains things clearly, shows many photos that illustrate his points, and relates his own experiences in his own yard. He talks about the “fruit bush” style just after 52 minutes. Also, continue into “The Home Orchard Part 2.”
Tom Spellman of Dave Wilson Nursery prunes fruit trees plus gives some of his reasoning in this video titled “Winter Pruning.” Perhaps the best thing about this video is that you can watch Spellman make the cuts; then you can go out to your tree and imitate if you like. I’m sure you’ll find it useful to watch some of the many other videos Spellman has done on pruning too.
Fruit Trees: Training and Pruning Deciduous Trees by Chuck Ingels (again), Pam Geisel, and Carolyn Unruh. The information is dense, but it’s all there, and it’s freely available as a pdf. It’s kind of like the condensed version of the book The Home Orchard.
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My grandpa once asked me when to start picking fruit from his Hass avocado tree. I said February. But it’s true that I’ve been picking one every now and then from my Hass tree since November. They’ve tasted acceptable, but I know that from February they’ll taste good, so I said February. Further, from March or April they’ll taste wonderful. There is no simple or correct answer to my grandpa’s question.
If you know the variety
That said, if you know which kind of avocado tree you have, then there are reference charts you can use to give you a general sense of a variety’s harvest season.
One such chart is this one by Julie Frink, based on observations in Irvine, Orange County. It shows the eating seasons of 27 avocado varieties.
Below is a chart that I made based on information from many sources, including Julie Frink. It shows only the varieties I grow in my yard:
Just keep in mind that these charts are general. When fruit from your tree will taste best to you might be on the front end or back end of the months listed. For example, last year (2016), I picked a Reed fruit from my tree in late May that tasted good enough for me even though according to the chart above, most people say the Reed season is later.
Also keep in mind that because it’s slightly warmer the farther south you go, if you live in San Diego your avocados will mature a little earlier in the year than if you live in Santa Barbara; likewise, avocados up north will maintain quality longer. For example, I’m in San Diego County and I’ve been picking good-tasting fruit from my Hass tree since Thanksgiving. That’s early. On the other hand, I have picked good-tasting fruit from a Hass tree in Carpinteria an entire year later, around Thanksgiving, after the fruit had turned black on the tree. That’s late. But that same piece of fruit probably wouldn’t have tasted good until that spring.
You might also be interested in knowing that the California Department of Food and Agriculture’s Avocado Inspection Program controls when commercial farmers can pick and sell their fruit. They issue release dates such as this one, and these dates can also be used by us backyard growers as guides for when to harvest. For example, the 2017 release date for any size of Hass (even small) is January 16.
If you don’t know the variety
But what if you don’t know which kind of avocado tree you’re picking from. My mom has a seedling avocado tree in her backyard, and some years back we had to figure out when its eating season was. Also some years ago, a friend of mine moved into a house that was shaded by an enormous old avocado tree with large round fruit that had shell-like skin but whose varietal name no one told him. Through trial and error, we figured out when to eat that tree’s fruit (and we later concluded that the tree was an old variety called Nabal).
Here’s how I’ve learned to approach situations like those:
Pick the biggest fruit on the tree at any time and see how it ripens. Be patient. Ripening (the softening of the flesh inside) sometimes only takes a couple days but can take a couple weeks. If the skin shrivels or if the fruit never softens beyond a rubbery texture, then it’s immature. Wait about a month to pick and test another big fruit.
If the fruit has hard skin like a shell (e.g. the varieties of Reed and Nabal), you may want to pop the stem off and stick a toothpick in to judge whether the flesh is softening.
If the fruit ripens nicely but when you cut it open the flesh is dark yellow, tastes overly rich, even smelling near rancid, then you’re too late. Next year, start picking about six months earlier. In other words, if you pick one that’s too mature here in January, then try picking the next crop starting in about July.
By the way, if you want to try to figure out which kind of avocado tree you are picking from, feel free to send me a photo and maybe I can tell you. Or use the maturity season that you discover and refer to one of the charts above in order to get names of possibilities. For example, if it tastes good in the summer then that eliminates Bacon, Pinkerton, and Fuerte, but it leaves as possibilities Hass, Reed, and Lamb. Then search for those names on the U.C. Riverside Avocado Variety List to see if one fits the description of your fruit and tree. This is better than doing a general web search because a lot of what you’ll find there is mislabeled.
No matter what, mark your findings on a calendar so you don’t have to keep dates in your busy mind. Or, what I often do is associate a harvest season with a holiday or birthday. For example, Bacons can be picked starting after Halloween. And by the way, Bacons are at their peak right now. I just had some that were so sweet and buttery.
The boys helping with the Bacon avocado harvest.