Facts about feijoa

I still remember the first time I saw a mature Dragon Fruit plant. It looked like a cactus had a chaotic argument with a weeping willow and decided to produce neon-pink alien eggs as a peace offering. If you live here in San Diego, you have probably seen these sprawling monsters draping over fences in Encinitas or potted up on balconies in North Park. But growing them for high yields is a different ballgame than just keeping them alive.

Ever wonder why these fruits cost $7 apiece at the grocery store when they grow like weeds in our climate?

The answer isn’t difficulty; it’s labor. I fell in love with these vining cacti, scientifically known as Selenicereus (formerly Hylocereus), because they offer a challenge that pays off in literally pounds of sweet, refreshing fruit. In Mexico, they call it Pitahaya. In Vietnam, it’s Thanh Long.

Alexander Mitchell

Here at our plot, we just call it the "Night bloomer." Growing them requires understanding that they are epiphytic cacti—meaning in nature, they climb up trees. They want to climb, they crave humidity, and they demand specific structural support.

Here at Exotic Fruits and Vegetables, we’ve found that the biggest mistake new growers make is treating this plant like a desert cactus rather than a tropical climber. It does not want scorching, bone-dry sand. It wants a rich, living soil that drains fast but holds moisture.

The Foundation: Soil and Sun

San Diego has a unique microclimate advantage. We rarely freeze, which is the Dragon Fruit’s kryptonite. However, our soil is often heavy clay or decomposed granite, which spells death for Pitaya roots. These roots are shallow and fibrous; they need to breathe. If you plant directly into heavy clay, you will get root rot within three months.

I build raised mounds for all my in-ground plants. My mix is 50% high-quality potting soil, 30% coarse perlite or pumice, and 20% composted chicken manure. This creates a medium that acts like a wrung-out sponge—damp, but full of air pockets. If you squeeze a handful of your soil and it clumps into a tight ball, it is too dense. It should crumble apart immediately.

Do not use standard “cactus mix” from the big box stores without amending it; it often contains too much peat moss that becomes hydrophobic when dry.

As for sunlight, these plants love the sun, but our Santa Ana heatwaves can bleach them white. I position my trellises to get full exposure from 9:00 AM to 3:00 PM. If you are inland, say in El Cajon or Escondido where temps hit 100°F, you need 30% shade cloth during growing season. My coastal plants in Point Loma take full raw sun without blinking.

The Structure: Building a Dragon Fruit Trellis

You cannot let this plant sprawl on the ground. It will not fruit. It needs to climb up, spill over, and hang down. This “hanging down” triggers the hormone production required for flowering. Think of the plant like a fountain; the water (branches) needs to shoot up and cascade down.

I learned this the hard way. Years ago, I used a flimsy tomato cage for a vigorous ‘American Beauty’ variety. A mature Dragon Fruit plant can weigh over 400 pounds when wet with rain. One rainy Tuesday morning, I walked out to find the cage crushed flat, the main stem snapped in half, and two years of growth lying in the mud. It was heartbreaking.

Now, I use a strict construction protocol:

1. The Post: I use a 4×4 pressure-treated wood post, 5 feet tall above ground (buried 2 feet deep with concrete).
2. The Top: I mount a sturdy square wooden frame or a motorcycle tire horizontally on top of the post.
3. The Training: I tie the main stem to the post using green gardening tape every 6 inches until it reaches the top.
4. The Crown: Once it hits the top, I snip the tip to force branching, allowing the new arms to drape over the tire.

Never use thin wire or fishing line to tie up your cactus; as the plant expands, thin wire will slice through the fleshy stem like a cheese cutter.

Varieties Matter: A Quick Comparison

Not all dragons are created equal. Some are self-fertile (easy mode), and some are self-sterile (expert mode). If you only have space for one plant, you must choose a self-fertile variety.

The Midnight Ritual: Pollination

Here is the secret that separates the casual gardener from the farmer: Sex. Dragon fruit flowers open for exactly one night. They unfurl around 8:00 PM and are wilted by 9:00 AM the next morning. In their native jungle habitat, bats and giant moths do the pollination. Here in San Diego? We don’t have enough of those specific pollinators.

If you want fruit, you have to be the bee. I go out at 10:00 PM with a headlamp and a fluffy makeup brush. I collect pollen from the anthers (the fluffy yellow parts) and brush it onto the stigma (the star-shaped part in the center). It feels a bit ridiculous standing in the dark with a makeup brush, but when that flower turns into a 1-pound fruit 40 days later, you feel like a wizard.

A single flower can produce thousands of pollen grains; I often collect excess pollen in a jar and store it in the freezer to pollinate different varieties later in the week.

Our experience at Exotic Fruits and Vegetables has shown that cross-pollination—using pollen from a different variety—results in fruit that is 20% larger than self-pollinated fruit. So, even if you have a self-fertile plant, give it some foreign pollen if you can.

Watering and Feeding: The Balance

These plants are hungry. During the active growing season (May through October), I feed them every month. I use a granular fertilizer with a 6-6-6 or 8-8-8 ratio, sprinkled about a foot away from the base. Organic composted chicken manure is fantastic because it provides nitrogen for growth and calcium, which prevents the fruit from splitting.

For water, I use drip irrigation. I give them 2 gallons of water per week, split into two waterings. If we get a Santa Ana wind event, I double that. However, in winter (December to February), I stop watering almost entirely. This “drought stress” signals the plant to harden off and prepare for the spring bloom explosion.

Mulching is your best friend; a 3-inch layer of wood chips keeps the shallow roots cool and cuts your water bill in half.

Common Pests and My “Ant War”

My biggest nemesis is not the coyote or the rabbit; it is the Argentine Ant. These ants do not eat the plant directly. Instead, they farm aphids and mealybugs on the tender new growth. They protect the pests to harvest their honeydew. It is a sophisticated operation.

I once lost an entire flush of buds because ants farmed mealybugs right into the flower crevices, causing the buds to abort and drop off. If you see ants marching up your trellis, you have a pest problem, even if you can’t see the bugs yet.

I wrap the base of my wood posts with copper tape or apply a sticky barrier (Tanglefoot) on masking tape around the post. It stops the ants cold.

Harvesting the Prize

Patience is the hardest tool to master. A Dragon Fruit will turn pink or yellow long before it is fully sweet. I wait until the “bracts” (the little leafy scales on the fruit skin) start to wither and turn brown. The fruit should give slightly to thumb pressure, like a ripe avocado.

Always cut the fruit from the stem with sharp shears; twisting it off can tear the branch and introduce infection sites.

When you cut into a ripe fruit, especially the red varieties, the color is shocking. It stains your hands, your cutting board, and your clothes. But the taste—a mix of kiwi, pear, and watermelon with a texture like sorbet—is unbeatable.

• Chill it: The flavor profile expands significantly when the fruit is 40°F.
• Scoop it: Cut it in half and eat it right out of the skin with a spoon.
• Blend it: It makes the most vibrant smoothie bowls imaginable.
• Lime it: A squeeze of lime juice enhances the natural sweetness.

As fruit enthusiasts at Exotic Fruits and Vegetables, we always tell people that the first year is for building the trellis and the plant structure. Don’t expect a bumper crop until year three. My first harvest was three measly fruits. Last year, that same plant gave me 45 pounds of produce.

Growing Dragon Fruit in San Diego is a journey of patience, night-time gardening, and battling ants. But when you slice open that first fruit you grew yourself, seeing that vibrant flesh, you realize you haven’t just grown food; you’ve grown a piece of living art. So grab a cutting, dig a hole, and get ready to watch the cactus climb.