Taste of feijoa

If you walked into my orchard here in San Diego specifically looking for a “Feijoa,” you might walk right past the shrub without noticing the fruit. These green, egg-shaped gems blend perfectly with the foliage, acting like natural camouflage.

But once you slice one open, the aroma hits you like a freight train of tropical perfume. I have spent years cultivating these plants in our Southern California climate, and I can tell you that describing the taste of a Feijoa—often called Pineapple Guava or Guavasteen—is one of the hardest tasks for any grower. It is complex, polarizing, and utterly unforgettable.

Emily Rodriguez

Here at Exotic Fruits and Vegetables, we've found that first-time tasters usually have one of two reactions: they either become lifelong devotees who hoard the fruit during its short season, or they look utterly confused by the medicinal aftertaste.

The scientific name is Acca sellowiana, but locals in New Zealand call it “Feijoa” (fee-jo-ah), while my neighbors here in the States often just call it the “perfume fruit.” This isn’t a fruit for the faint of heart; it demands your attention and challenges your palate.

The Anatomy of a Flavor Explosion

To understand the taste, you have to understand the structure of the fruit itself. Imagine a jelly-filled center surrounded by a gritty, pear-like flesh, all wrapped in a tart, firm skin. The flavor profile changes depending on how close you are to the center. The jelly is pure sugar and tropical zest—think strawberries, pineapples, and kiwis mashed together. As you move toward the skin, the texture changes. It becomes granular, similar to a pear or a guava, thanks to stone cells called sclereids.

The aromatic compounds in Feijoa include methyl benzoate and ethyl benzoate, which are actually used in the perfume industry. This is why eating a Feijoa feels like inhaling a bouquet of flowers while chewing on a fruit salad.

My first experience with this fruit was actually a disaster. I bit into it like an apple, skin and all. The skin is intensely bitter and sour, rich in tannins that will make your mouth pucker instantly. It completely ruined the sweet, floral notes of the flesh. I spit it out and didn’t touch another one for a week. The secret, which I learned the hard way, is to treat the skin as a container, not a wrapper.

The “Menthol” Factor

What really sets the Feijoa apart is the finish. After the initial rush of strawberry-pineapple sweetness, there is a distinct, lingering note of wintergreen or eucalyptus. Some people compare it to mint; others say it tastes medicinal. This comes from the essential oils in the fruit. In cooler climates, this minty note is subtle, but here in San Diego, where we get intense sun followed by cool coastal breezes, that terpene profile really pops.

Ever wonder why children sometimes reject Feijoa on the first try? It’s usually that “spicy” wintergreen aftertaste that surprises their taste buds, which are wired to expect straightforward sugar.

This complexity is why I urge my customers to let the fruit sit. A rock-hard Feijoa is indistinguishable from a sour unripe plum. You need the fruit to yield slightly to pressure, similar to a ripe avocado. That is when the starches have fully converted to sugars, and the acids have mellowed enough to let the floral notes shine.

Varieties Matter: A Side-by-Side Flavor Comparison

Not all Feijoas are created equal. I grow several varieties on my plot, and the difference in flavor can be staggering. If you buy “generic” fruit from a supermarket, you are likely getting a seedling variety that varies wildly in quality. Clonal varieties, propagated from cuttings, offer a consistent and superior eating experience. Through our work with Exotic Fruits and Vegetables farm, we have cataloged the specific flavor nuances of the cultivars that thrive in our Mediterranean climate.

I once ruined an entire batch of feijoa jam by using ‘Mammoth’ feijoas that were slightly overripe. The musky flavor, which is pleasant when fresh, turned into something resembling old cologne when cooked down. Now, I strictly use ‘Nazemetz’ for cooking because its flavor profile holds up against heat without becoming cloying.

The Influence of Soil and Harvest on Taste

You cannot separate the taste of the fruit from the way it was grown. Feijoas are drought-tolerant, sure, but if you starve them of water, the fruit ends up small, hollow, and bitter. On my farm, I give mature trees about 5-7 gallons of water every week during fruit set (July through September). This hydration is what fills the jelly center. If you skimp on water, you get a dry, gritty fruit that tastes like cardboard dipped in lemonade.

Never pick a Feijoa directly from the tree if you want the true flavor experience. The fruit creates an abscission layer and drops naturally when it is perfectly ripe. Picking it early stops the sugar development instantly.

Harvesting Feijoas is like a daily Easter egg hunt. I go out every morning and shake the trees gently. Whatever falls is ready. If you have to pull, twist, or yank, that fruit is not ready to give you its best flavor. The sugar content rises dramatically in the last 24 hours before the fruit drops. We at Exotic Fruits and Vegetables believe in “ground harvesting” (on a clean tarp, of course) to ensure maximum sweetness.

Fertilizing for Flavor

Many backyard growers make the mistake of pumping their trees with high-nitrogen fertilizers to get lush green growth. This is a flavor killer. Excess nitrogen dilutes the concentration of sugars and aromatics. I switch to a low-nitrogen, high-potassium feed (like a 0-10-10 or kelp meal) starting in late August. Potassium is the key nutrient for fruit quality, sugar transport, and shelf life.

For the sweetest fruit, stop fertilizing completely once the fruit reaches the size of a marble. Let the tree focus its energy on ripening rather than growing new leaves.

How to Eat and Pair Feijoa

Eating a Feijoa is a ritual. You don’t just snack on it while driving. You need a knife and a spoon. The contrast between the creamy center and the grainy outer flesh is part of the joy. If you eat it too fast, you miss the transition from sour to sweet to floral.

1. Slice: Cut the fruit in half horizontally (across the equator, not stem to blossom).
2. Scoop: Use a small spoon to dig out the flesh, getting as close to the skin as you can without scraping the bitter layer.
3. Squeeze: Once scooped, squeeze the empty skins into a pitcher of water. The remaining oils in the skin will infuse the water with a refreshing tropical taste within an hour.
4. Discard: Compost the skins (unless you have the ‘Nazemetz’ variety, which can be eaten whole).

The most critical rule of eating Feijoa is to consume it within 3 to 5 days of harvest. The flavor compounds are volatile. After a week in the fridge, the bright, tangy “zing” fades, and the texture turns brown and mealy. It is a fleeting pleasure.

When it comes to culinary uses, the Feijoa is surprisingly versatile. It cuts through rich, fatty foods because of its acidity. I love pairing it with pork chops or blending it into a vinaigrette for bitter greens like kale or arugula. The floral notes bridge the gap between savory and sweet dishes seamlessly.

My favorite breakfast during the season is simple: oatmeal topped with chopped walnuts and a generous scoop of raw Feijoa. The heat of the oatmeal releases the fruit’s aroma, making the whole kitchen smell like a tropical paradise.

Pairing Suggestions

If you are looking to experiment, here are some flavor combinations that elevate the natural taste of the fruit:

• Dairy: The acidity curdles milk, but it works wonders with thick Greek yogurt or heavy cream cheese.
• Spices: Ginger and cardamom complement the medicinal/floral notes without overpowering them.
• Fruits: Mixes well with banana (for texture) and apple (for crunch), but avoid mixing with strong citrus, which masks the delicate perfume.
• Herbs: Fresh mint or basil highlights the wintergreen aftertaste in a pleasant way.

The Verdict: Is It Worth the Effort?

Growing and eating Feijoas is an exercise in patience and timing. You have to wait for the drop, check for the perfect softness, and eat it before it spoils. But the reward is a flavor that you simply cannot find on a standard grocery store shelf. It is a taste that connects you to the season. When the Feijoas are dropping in San Diego, I know that autumn has truly arrived, even if the temperature is still 75°F.

“The Feijoa is the only fruit that tastes the way a gardenia smells.” — An old gardening mentor of mine once told me this, and I haven’t found a better description since.

If you see these green eggs at a farmers market, buy them only if they yield slightly to a gentle squeeze. If they are hard as rocks, leave them be. The taste of a ripe Feijoa is a journey through sour, sweet, gritty, creamy, and floral landscapes all in one bite.

Avoid buying Feijoas that have browning on the skin or soft, water-soaked spots. This indicates the fruit has fermented inside, resulting in a flavor that tastes disturbingly like nail polish remover.

For us, the Feijoa represents the beauty of exotic gardening. It’s weird, it’s wonderful, and it refuses to be categorized easily. Don’t expect it to taste like a guava or a pineapple; expect it to taste like a Feijoa. Once you calibrate your palate to its unique frequency, you might just find yourself shaking the bushes every morning, hunting for that next hit of tropical perfection.