Every seed tells its own story. Plant it with hope but let nature write the ending. - The Grey-Haired Gardener
Image Credit : Rahime Gul on Pexels.com
After my last post about the avocado lace bug, I thought I'd stay with the zaboca for a little longer—but this time, we're looking at what might—or might not—grow from the seed.
Here in Trinidad and Tobago, most of us don't ask if someone has an avocado tree—we ask if they have a zaboca tree.
It's the name many of us grew up with, and every year, as the season rolls around, I know what's going to happen. Someone will cut open a beautiful Pollock zaboca—large, buttery, creamy, and absolutely delicious. Before long, they'll be holding up the seed and saying,
"I'm planting this! Imagine getting zabocas just like these."
It seems perfectly logical. If the fruit was exceptional, surely planting the seed should give you another tree producing the very same fruit.
Unfortunately, nature doesn't quite work that way.
A Seed Isn't a Photocopy
One of the things I enjoy most about gardening is that it's always teaching me something new. This is one of those lessons that surprises many gardeners.
Planting the seed from a Pollock zaboca doesn't guarantee you'll get another Pollock tree.
Instead, you're growing a completely new avocado tree with its own unique genetic makeup.
Think of it like a family. Brothers and sisters may share the same parents, but each one is wonderfully different. Some may look alike, others may not, and each has their own unique qualities.
Avocado seedlings are no different.
The seed carries genetic material from both the mother tree and the pollen that fertilized the flower. The result is a brand-new individual, not an exact copy of the tree the fruit came from.
That means your future zabocas may be larger, smaller, creamier, less creamy, earlier, later—or quite different in taste altogether.
That's part of the mystery...and part of the beauty of growing from seed.
Then Comes the Waiting...
Growing a zaboca from seed also calls for a generous helping of patience.
I've seen many enthusiastic gardeners carefully nurture a seedling for years, watching it grow taller and taller, convinced that the first harvest is just around the corner.
In reality, a seedling often takes seven to ten years—or even longer—before it produces fruit.
And after all that waiting, the fruit may still be quite different from the one that inspired you to plant the seed in the first place.
So How Do Farmers Grow Pollock Trees?
This is where another gardening secret comes in.
Commercial growers don't depend on seeds when they want to produce a particular variety like Pollock.
They use grafted trees.
Without getting too technical, grafting allows growers to take a piece from a mature Pollock tree that's already proven to produce excellent fruit and grow it on a young tree.
The result is a tree that produces the same variety people know and love—and usually starts fruiting much sooner than a seedling.
Should You Still Plant the Seed?
Absolutely!
I would never discourage anyone from planting a zaboca seed.
Watching that large seed split open, send down its first root, and produce new green leaves is one of those simple pleasures that reminds us why we love gardening.
Just plant it with the right expectations.
Instead of expecting another Pollock tree, think of it as giving nature the opportunity to create something entirely new.
Who knows? You may end up with a wonderful avocado that's unique to your own garden.
The Best Choice Depends on Your Goal
If your goal is simply to enjoy the journey of growing a tree, then by all means plant the seed.
If your goal is to harvest those same large, buttery Pollock zabocas, then your best option is to buy a grafted Pollock tree from a reputable nursery.
Knowing the difference can save you years of waiting—and a little disappointment.
A Final Thought
One of the things gardening has taught me is that understanding why plants behave the way they do, makes us better gardeners.
The lesson doesn't stop with zabocas, either.
The same principle applies to many of our favourite fruit trees, including mangoes, citrus, and several others. A seed can grow into a healthy, productive tree, but it won't necessarily produce fruit identical to the one it came from.
So the next time you enjoy a delicious Pollock zaboca, don't hesitate to plant the seed if the experience brings you joy.
Just remember—you aren't recreating the tree you admired.
You're beginning the story of a brand-new one.
And I think that's a pretty wonderful way to look at it.
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Next in the series: Will a mango seed grow the same mango?
Have you ever planted a zaboca seed?
Did it eventually bear fruit, or are you still waiting? I'd love to hear your experience in the comments below. And if you know someone who's saving a seed from this year's zaboca season, feel free to share this post with them—they might be surprised by what they learn!
Grey-Haired Gardener's Tip 🌿
Plant a seed for the joy of growing.
Plant a grafted tree for the fruit you're hoping to harvest.
Grey hair, green thumb and proud of my roots
thegreyhairedgardener.blogpsot.com
Beautiful lesson.
ReplyDeleteMy childhood is filled with memories of watching the seed root either in a napkin or cup of water.
Can't remember planting the seed but for sure remembered completing beginning stage lol.
Thank you for sharing that memory, Avian. Those early stages—watching the seed swell, split, and send out its first root—really do feel magical. I love how these little rituals connect us back to childhood and remind us of the patience gardening teaches.
DeleteI love this article.....excellent explanation....as I am guilty of planting most of my healthy, large zabocas seeds .I enjoy watching them germinate first and then transplant them to the ground ....I have not reaped any fruits yet , but it's not my goal who reaps the fruits. Someday , someone will hopefully. My plants are all healthy but have different leaf shapes , suggestive of different varieties....so I guess it's a wait and see for me . Thanks GHG🥰
ReplyDeleteLove your approach, Tootsie—nurturing the seeds and letting them thrive is a gift in itself. The different leaf shapes make the wait even more exciting! I love your perspective that someday someone else may enjoy the fruits.
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