Alma Fig

If you’ve ever bitten into a perfectly ripe fig, you know it’s hard to forget. That soft honeyed flesh, the rich jammy flavor, and the tiny seeds that crunch like whispers of summer — it’s nature’s candy. But not all figs are created equal. Some are showy but shallow, others sweet but finicky. Then there’s the Alma Fig — or as we fondly call it down here in the South, “the honey fig.” Its scientific name is Ficus carica ‘Alma’, but to me, it’s simply the most underrated jewel of the fig world.

I’ve grown many varieties over the years — Celeste, Brown Turkey, Kadota, and even some wild Syrian cultivars — but the Alma is the one I keep coming back to. It’s like that dependable friend who never lets you down: strong, productive, and always a pleasure to have around.

Where the Alma Fig Came From

Let’s start with a bit of history because, like most great fruits, Alma has roots that stretch far and wide. The Alma Fig was developed by the Texas Agricultural Experiment Station in the mid-20th century, primarily in College Station, Texas. It’s actually a hybrid between Horta Caprifig and Allison Fig, created to combine strong disease resistance with exceptional sweetness.

Michael Gorelov

This breeding program wasn’t just about flavor — it was survival. Texas weather can swing from scorching droughts to sudden cold snaps, and common fig trees (Ficus carica) often struggled. So researchers set out to produce a cultivar that could handle Texas’s extremes — and the Alma Fig became one of their proudest results.

What makes Alma special is its thick skin and closed eye (that little opening at the bottom of the fruit). The closed eye keeps out insects and rainwater, preventing souring — something that often ruins other fig varieties in humid or rainy conditions.

Why I Fell in Love with Alma Figs

When I first planted Alma on my farm, I didn’t expect much. The sapling looked thin and shy, like it wasn’t sure it wanted to live here. But come mid-summer of the second year, it started showing what it was made of. The leaves — deeply lobed and elegant — spread wide like open hands, catching every drop of sunlight. And then came the fruit.

The figs start small, greenish-yellow at first, turning a golden brown as they ripen. When you pick them just at the right time — soft to the touch but not mushy — the skin gives way to a rich amber flesh that tastes like a spoonful of warm honey mixed with caramel.

You can almost smell the sweetness before you take a bite. Some people say Alma’s flavor is “mild,” but to me, it’s balanced — not overpowering like Mission figs, not tart like Kadota. Just right.

Here’s a quick comparison that might help:

Growing Alma Figs: Lessons from the Orchard

Alma Figs aren’t just delicious — they’re forgiving, which makes them a joy to grow. I’ve had good harvests even in less-than-ideal conditions, which can’t be said for many exotic fruits.

Here’s what I’ve learned from growing them year after year:

1. Soil and Sun: Alma loves full sun and well-drained loam. I’ve noticed they do best when the soil isn’t too rich — a bit of struggle seems to concentrate the sugars.

2. Watering: These trees don’t like wet feet. During fruiting season, I water deeply once or twice a week rather than frequent shallow watering.

3. Pruning: The key to heavy yields is pruning right after the harvest. I cut back the older branches to encourage new growth — that’s where next year’s fruit comes from.

4. Fertilizing: I go easy on nitrogen; too much, and you’ll get big leaves but few fruits. Instead, I use composted manure and a touch of potassium-rich organic fertilizer.

One trick I’ve learned — and this one’s worth its weight in gold — is mulching. I use straw and leaf litter around the base. It keeps the roots cool in summer, retains moisture, and prevents weeds from stealing nutrients.

Pest and Disease Resistance: Alma’s Hidden Power

Unlike many other fig types, Alma has a strong resistance to common pests and fungal issues. Its closed ostiole (eye) means it’s much less prone to fig souring, fruit splitting, and insect infestation.

Here’s a quick look at how it compares to others when it comes to resilience:

Still, no plant is perfect. If you overwater or let the soil stay soggy, Alma’s roots can start to rot. I lost one tree that way early on. Lesson learned — good drainage is everything.

My Favorite Uses for Alma Figs

When harvest season hits — usually around late July to September — I’m in heaven. The tree produces clusters of small to medium-sized figs that ripen over several weeks. That means I can enjoy them fresh for longer instead of having them all ripen at once.

Now, what do I do with them? Oh, the list is long, but here are my favorites:

• Fresh eating: Nothing beats a sun-warmed fig right off the tree.
• Roasted with goat cheese and honey: A rustic appetizer that tastes like a fine-dining dish.
• Homemade fig jam: Alma’s thick flesh makes a naturally syrupy jam without much added sugar.
• Dried figs: Because of their high sugar content, they dry beautifully and store for months.

When I share my Alma jam at local farmers’ markets, people always ask what makes it taste different. I tell them it’s the honey notes — they give the jam a natural depth that’s rare even among figs.

A Real-World Example: The Texas Revival

Let me tell you a quick story that illustrates why Alma deserves more recognition. A few years ago, a fellow grower from Brenham, Texas nearly gave up on fig farming after losing two straight seasons to rain damage and souring in his Celeste crop. I convinced him to try Alma instead.

He planted a dozen trees along a gently sloping field to help drainage. By year three, those trees were producing close to 15 pounds of fruit per plant — and not a single spoiled fig after heavy summer rains. He told me that switching to Alma “saved his orchard.”

That’s the kind of reliability that keeps small farmers in business.

Nutritional Value: Nature’s Energy Bite

Alma figs aren’t just tasty — they’re good for you. They pack a nutritional punch, especially for something that grows so easily. Here’s what a single serving (about 100 grams of fresh fruit) typically offers:

And if you dry them, the nutrient density goes through the roof — dried Alma figs are basically concentrated sunshine.

Common Myths and Misunderstandings

Some folks avoid Alma because they’ve heard it doesn’t produce well without a fig wasp. That’s true for certain wild Mediterranean varieties, but Alma is self-pollinating — it doesn’t need wasps, and it produces reliably in warm climates without any cross-pollination.

Another myth is that it’s not cold-hardy. While it’s true Alma prefers warm regions (Zones 8–10), I’ve had friends in Zone 7 keep it thriving with winter protection — a thick mulch layer and wrapping the trunk in burlap does wonders.

Final Thoughts: Why I’ll Always Grow Alma

Every year when the Alma trees start fruiting, I feel the same childlike joy I did when I first planted them. There’s something deeply satisfying about seeing a tree that works with nature instead of against it. It doesn’t demand much — just sunlight, patience, and respect. In return, it gives you one of the sweetest gifts a gardener could ask for.

Anna Gorelova

If you’re thinking about growing figs and want one that’s reliable, disease-resistant, and unbelievably tasty, start with Alma. It’s the kind of fig that rewards both beginners and old-timers alike.

And if you’re lucky enough to bite into one fresh off the tree — sticky, golden, and dripping with honey — you’ll understand why I call it my “sweet southern secret.”