A seed may take years to become a harvest, but the waiting is part of the story - The Grey-Haired Gardener
Have you ever tasted a fruit that made you wonder, “Where has this been all my life?”
For me, that fruit is abui...... (and rambutan... but that's another story!)
And as I stood there picking fruit from my tree, I couldn't help but think about how long I had to wait for this moment.
About ten years, to be exact!
It all started with Ma
My mother had a habit of planting the seeds from fruits she enjoyed — especially the unusual ones.
If she tasted something interesting and liked it, there was a good chance that the seed would find its way into a little cup and later, into the soil.
And that is how I ended up with my abui tree.
Ma planted the seed.
I simply inherited the tree — and, I suppose, her habit of never throwing away a perfectly good seed.
The little tree grew.
And grew.
And grew some more.
But for years, there was no fruit.
Gardening has a funny way of teaching you patience. You can water, feed, prune and fuss over a plant, but sometimes the plant simply looks back at you and says, “Eh, eh, you'll have to wait!”
So I waited.
Eventually, the day came when I picked my first abui.
And I have to admit, after waiting roughly a decade, that first fruit felt pretty special.
So, what exactly is an abui?
Here in Trinidad and Tobago, we call it abui. It is also known as abiu, and its scientific name is Pouteria caimito.
It belongs to the Sapotaceae family — the same plant family as our beloved sapodilla, balata and caimite, or star apple. (for our international readers)
They aren't the same fruits, but they are relatives.
And if you've ever eaten these, you may have noticed something else they have in common.
That sticky feeling on your lips!
Yes. Abui can leave a little sticky residue around your mouth, but honestly?
That's a small price to pay for all that jelly-like goodness.
A little natural beeswax lip balm takes care of the sticky lips, and I'm quite happy to make that sacrifice. 😂
From green to golden
One of the things I enjoy about having the tree in my garden is watching the fruit develop.
First come the flowers.
Then those tiny green fruits appear, almost hidden among the leaves.
Slowly, they grow and begin changing colour.
And when they are ready, they become these beautiful golden-yellow fruits that almost seem to glow among the foliage.
This year has been particularly special.
My abui tree is carrying the best crop I've ever had.
After all those years of waiting, it seems the tree has finally decided to make up for lost time!
And then you cut one open…
This is where abui really wins me over.
The thin skin gives way to soft, translucent flesh with a texture that is almost jelly-like.
Inside are those dark seeds nestled in the middle.
It isn't a fruit that you eat quickly and forget.
There is something about the texture, the sweetness and that almost silky flesh that makes you slow down and enjoy it.
And because I grew up with a mother who planted the seeds of fruits she loved, there is an added pleasure in knowing that this tree came from one of those little seeds she decided was worth planting.
Some things in the garden take time
We live in a world where we're used to getting almost everything immediately.
But fruit trees don't work that way.
Sometimes you plant something and harvest in a few months.
Sometimes you wait years.
And sometimes, like my abui tree, you wait about ten years before the tree finally decides it's ready to share its treasure.
Would I have planted it if I had known how long I'd have to wait?
Probably.
Because there is something wonderfully satisfying about growing a fruit that isn't sitting in every supermarket or planted in every backyard.
And even more satisfying when the tree has a story attached to it.
This one isn't just an abui tree.
It's one of Ma's seeds that kept growing.
And now, every time I pick an abui, I get to enjoy a little piece of that gardening legacy.
Have you ever tried abui?
If you have never tasted it, and you happen to come across some, give it a try!
And if you've grown abui from seed, I'd love to know your story.
Did yours take years to bear?
And perhaps the bigger question for all of us seed-saving gardeners:
What unusual fruit did your mother, grandmother or someone in your family plant from seed?
Because sometimes those little seeds we casually tuck into the soil become the trees we treasure most.
Tell me in the comments — I would love to hear what is growing from the seeds of your family stories.
Happy Gardening!
Grey hair, green thumb and proud of my roots
thegreyhairedgardener.blogspot.com
