Finger Lime From Seed

I’ll never forget the first time I held a finger lime seed between my thumb and forefinger. It was so tiny, almost insignificant—about the size of a small apple seed—and yet I knew this little speck contained the potential for something extraordinary. Growing Citrus australasica from seed has become one of my favorite challenges on the farm, even though it’s tested my patience more times than I care to admit.

Most people call them finger limes, but depending on where you are, you might hear them referred to as citrus caviar, caviar limes, or Australian finger limes. In their native Queensland and New South Wales, locals sometimes call them bush limes or simply native limes. Whatever name you use, these elongated citrus fruits with their pearl-like vesicles have captured the imagination of chefs and growers worldwide—and for good reason.

Now, I should tell you upfront: starting these trees from seed isn’t the fastest path to harvesting fruit. But if you’re anything like me, there’s something deeply satisfying about nurturing a plant from its absolute beginning. It’s like the difference between buying a beautifully painted canvas and watching an artist create a masterpiece from scratch—both have value, but one gives you a deeper appreciation for the process.

Why I Started Growing Citrus Caviar From Seed

When I first became interested in these Australian natives, I faced a dilemma that many aspiring growers encounter. Grafted trees from reputable nurseries were running anywhere from seventy to one hundred fifty dollars each, and I wanted to plant multiple trees to experiment with different microclimates on my property. The math just didn’t work in my favor.

Then I met a fellow farmer at a regional agricultural fair who casually mentioned he’d grown several trees from seed. “Sure, they take longer,” he told me while we sampled some of his harvest, “but you can’t beat the price, and you might discover something really special.” Those words stuck with me, and within a month, I had my first batch of seeds in the ground.

Michael Gorelov

Here's what I've learned about why seed propagation makes sense for certain situations. If you're experimenting with multiple plantings, need rootstock for future grafting projects, or simply enjoy the process of plant propagation, seeds offer incredible value. Plus—and this is the part that really excites me—each seedling represents a unique genetic combination. You're essentially conducting your own breeding program, whether you intended to or not.

Research from Australian agricultural institutions suggests that seed-grown Citrus australasica trees can exhibit considerable variation in fruit color, size, flavor profile, and even tree habit. I’ve witnessed this firsthand. One of my seedlings produced fruit with vesicles so dark they were nearly black, while another gave me pale green pearls with an unusually sweet flavor. Neither of these characteristics exactly matched the parent fruit, and that unpredictability is part of what makes this journey so fascinating.

Primary Benefits of Seed Propagation:

• Cost-effective method for establishing multiple trees
• Potential for discovering unique genetic variants with superior characteristics
• Development of vigorous, locally-adapted root systems
• Complete control over growing conditions from day one
• Opportunity to select the best performers for future propagation
• Deep educational experience in plant biology and growth cycles

Getting Started: Seed Selection and Preparation

The journey begins with obtaining quality seeds, and timing matters more than you might think. I’ve had the best success with seeds extracted from fully mature fruit—the kind where the skin yields slightly to pressure and the pearls inside have reached their peak flavor. Using underripe fruit is like trying to bake bread with half-risen dough; technically possible, but your results will suffer.

Extracting seeds from bush limes requires a gentle touch. Slice your fruit lengthwise, and you’ll see the seeds nestled among those jewel-like vesicles. They’re typically cream-colored, slightly elongated, and about five to eight millimeters long. Here’s a critical point that cost me my first batch: these seeds don’t store well. Fresh is everything. If your seeds dry out, germination rates plummet faster than my energy levels on a hot summer afternoon.

I’ve experimented with various pre-treatments over the seasons. Some growers swear by soaking seeds in lukewarm water for twenty-four hours before planting. Others go straight from fruit to soil. My experience? The freshness of the seed matters far more than any pre-soaking ritual. That said, if your seeds are a few days old, a brief soak certainly won’t hurt and might give them a slight boost.

The growing medium is where I’ve fine-tuned my approach through trial and error. Initially, I used standard potting mix and had mediocre results—about forty percent germination. Now I mix my own blend: equal parts quality seed-starting mix, perlite for drainage, and a small amount of well-aged compost for nutrients. This combination provides the drainage these citrus seeds demand while maintaining enough moisture retention to support germination.

The Germination Environment

Creating the right conditions for germination is like setting up a five-star hotel for your future trees. Temperature sits at the top of my priority list. Citrus australasica seeds germinate best between seventy and eighty degrees Fahrenheit. During cooler months, I use heating mats set to seventy-five degrees, which has dramatically improved my success rates.

Moisture management requires attention and consistency. The soil should feel like a wrung-out sponge—moist but never waterlogged. I water from below when possible, placing my seed trays in shallow containers of water and allowing capillary action to do the work. This prevents disturbing the seeds and reduces the risk of fungal issues that come with overhead watering.

Light plays an interesting role here. While the seeds themselves don’t need light to germinate, I keep my trays in bright, indirect light. Why? Because as soon as those first shoots emerge—and they will, sometimes overnight—they’ll immediately start reaching for light. Having them in position prevents that frantic scramble to relocate tender seedlings.

Humidity is the final piece of this puzzle. I cover my seed trays with clear plastic domes or even simple plastic wrap to maintain humidity levels around seventy to eighty percent. Just remember to provide air circulation once or twice daily to prevent fungal growth. Think of it as giving your seeds a breath of fresh air—literally.

The Waiting Game: What to Expect During Germination

Now we come to the part that separates the patient growers from everyone else. Finger lime seeds operate on their own schedule, and that schedule can vary wildly. I’ve had seeds germinate in as little as two weeks, while others have taken nearly three months to show any signs of life. The average, in my experience, falls somewhere around four to six weeks.

This variability drove me crazy at first. I’d check my trays daily, convinced I’d done something wrong when some containers showed seedlings while others remained stubbornly bare. Eventually, I learned that this is simply the nature of citrus seed germination. Even seeds from the same fruit can have vastly different germination times.

Step-by-Step Approach to Germination Success:

1. Prepare your growing medium by mixing components thoroughly and moistening before planting
2. Plant seeds one-half inch deep in individual cells or small pots, spacing them adequately if using shared containers
3. Label everything clearly with seed source, planting date, and any other relevant information
4. Provide consistent warmth using heat mats or placing trays in a naturally warm location
5. Maintain steady moisture by checking daily and watering as needed to keep soil evenly moist
6. Monitor for emergence beginning at the two-week mark, but don’t lose hope if nothing appears immediately
7. Remove humidity covers gradually once seedlings emerge, acclimating them to normal air over several days
8. Relocate to bright light as soon as the first shoots appear, protecting from direct intense sunlight initially

During this waiting period, I’ve learned to trust the process. Not every seed will germinate, and that’s okay. I typically plant about twice as many seeds as the number of trees I ultimately want, accounting for germination failures and the eventual culling of weaker or less desirable seedlings down the road.

Nurturing Your Young Australian Finger Lime Seedlings

The day your first seedling breaks through the soil is genuinely exciting—I still get a thrill every time, even after countless germinations. But this is where your real work begins, because young citrus caviar seedlings can be surprisingly finicky about their care.

Light management becomes crucial immediately after germination. Those first leaves—the cotyledons—are tender and can scorch easily under intense direct sun. I position my seedlings where they receive bright, indirect light for the first few weeks. Morning sun is ideal if you’re growing near a window. After about three weeks, I begin introducing more direct sunlight gradually, increasing exposure by an hour or so each day.

Watering young seedlings is an art form that I’m still perfecting. The soil should never completely dry out, but it should never be soggy either. I use my finger to test soil moisture, watering when the top half-inch feels dry. During hot weather, this might mean daily watering; in cooler conditions, every two or three days suffices. The key is consistency and observation.

Growth Stages and Care Requirements

Understanding what to expect as your seedlings develop helps you provide appropriate care at each stage. Here’s what I’ve observed across dozens of seed-grown trees:

Fertilization should begin only after your seedling has developed at least four true leaves—those are the ones that look like actual finger lime leaves, not the rounded cotyledons. I start with a water-soluble, balanced fertilizer at quarter strength every two weeks. As the plant grows, I gradually increase both the strength and frequency, but I never go above half strength for seedlings in their first year.

Transplanting happens in stages on my farm. Seedlings start in small cells or two-inch pots, then move to four-inch pots once they’re about four inches tall with a visible root system. From there, they graduate to one-gallon containers, then three-gallon, and eventually five-gallon before going into the ground or their permanent large containers. Each transplant includes a root inspection—I’m checking for healthy white roots and any signs of root binding or disease.

Managing Expectations: The Timeline to Fruit

Let’s address the elephant in the room: when will your seed-grown bush lime actually produce fruit? I’m going to give you the honest answer, not the one you want to hear. Most seed-grown Citrus australasica trees begin flowering between five and ten years from seed, with initial fruit production occurring anywhere from six to twelve years. Yes, you read that correctly—potentially more than a decade.

Compare this to grafted trees, which typically fruit within two to four years, and you can see why many people choose that route. But here’s what those timeline comparisons don’t capture: the journey itself, the genetic variability, and ultimately, the longevity and vigor of seed-grown trees once they mature.

I have seedlings at various stages throughout my farm, and watching their progression has taught me more about Citrus australasica than any book or workshop ever could. My oldest seed-grown trees, now approaching their potential first flowering, show incredibly robust growth patterns. Their trunks are thick and strong, their root systems extensive, and their overall health seems superior to some of my grafted specimens of similar age.

Real-World Production Comparisons

Based on my detailed records and observations, here’s how seed-grown trees compare to grafted alternatives:

The variability in seed-grown trees means you’re essentially running a lottery. Some of my seedlings will undoubtedly produce inferior fruit—perhaps too seedy, poor flavor, or low yields. But others might become exceptional specimens worth propagating through grafting. I’ve already identified two seedlings that, based on their growth characteristics and preliminary flower production, show real promise for unique fruit qualities.

Practical Wisdom From the Growing Grounds

After working with hundreds of finger lime seeds and dozens of surviving seedlings, I’ve accumulated quite a bit of practical knowledge. Some of it came from research and mentors, but much of it came from making mistakes and learning what works in my specific conditions.

Climate considerations are absolutely critical. While Citrus australasica tolerates light frost once established, seedlings are much more vulnerable. I lost an entire year’s crop of seedlings to an unexpected late spring freeze before I learned this lesson. Now I keep seedlings protected until they’re at least two feet tall and showing significant stem hardening.

Pest management deserves your attention from day one. Aphids have an uncanny ability to find tender new growth on citrus seedlings. I check my plants weekly, and at the first sign of aphids, I knock them off with a strong spray of water. For persistent infestations, I’ve had excellent results with insecticidal soap or neem oil applied according to label directions.

The genetic lottery aspect of seed growing means you’ll need to be selective. Not every seedling deserves a permanent place in your grove. I keep detailed notes on each tree’s growth rate, vigor, disease resistance, and eventually, fruit quality. The underperformers get culled or used as rootstock for grafting superior varieties.

Container growing works beautifully for these trees, especially in marginal climates or when you want maximum control. I have several seed-grown specimens that have spent their entire lives in large containers—thirty to forty-five gallons—and they produce admirably once mature. This approach also allows you to protect trees during extreme weather and position them in optimal light conditions.

Soil pH shouldn’t be overlooked. Australian finger limes prefer slightly acidic to neutral soil, roughly 6.0 to 7.0 on the pH scale. I test my soil annually and amend as needed with sulfur to lower pH or lime to raise it. Maintaining proper pH ensures your trees can access the nutrients they need for healthy growth.

The Long-Term Perspective

Growing caviar limes from seed isn’t for everyone, and I’m comfortable admitting that. If you need quick results, have limited space, or want predictable fruit characteristics, grafted trees make far more sense. But if you’re a patient grower who enjoys the journey as much as the destination, seed propagation offers rewards that transcend simple fruit production.

I look at my youngest seedlings—some just inches tall, others approaching saplings—and I see potential. Each one could become an exceptional producer, a unique genetic specimen worth propagating, or simply a healthy tree providing fruit for decades to come. The uncertainty doesn’t trouble me; it excites me.

There’s also something deeply satisfying about working with the complete life cycle of a plant. From extracting that tiny seed from a ripe fruit, through the anxious waiting of germination, the careful nurturing of tender seedlings, and eventually—fingers crossed—the harvest of fruit from a tree you’ve known since its absolute beginning. It’s a connection to the natural world that’s increasingly rare in our instant-gratification culture.

The economics work in your favor if you’re patient and have space. While individual grafted trees cost fifty to one hundred fifty dollars, a single piece of fruit might yield ten to twenty seeds. Even with a fifty percent germination rate and subsequent culling of half the survivors, you’re still looking at multiple trees for the cost of one fruit. For someone establishing a small orchard or experimenting with different planting sites, this math is compelling.

Final Thoughts From the Field

As I write this, I’m looking out at my collection of finger lime trees in various stages of development. The grafted ones are producing nicely—reliable, predictable, and profitable. But my eyes keep drifting to the seed-grown specimens, still years away from fruiting, and I feel that familiar excitement about what they might become.

Will some disappoint? Absolutely. Will the wait test my patience? It already has. But will I ever regret the decision to grow Citrus australasica from seed? Not for a single moment. The knowledge I’ve gained, the satisfaction of nurturing plants from their absolute beginning, and the potential for discovering something genuinely unique—these things have value that can’t be measured purely in terms of years to first harvest.

If you decide to take this journey, go in with open eyes and realistic expectations. Understand that this is a long-term commitment, not a quick project. But also understand that some of the most rewarding experiences in farming—and in life—are the ones that require patience, dedication, and faith in the process.

So if you find yourself holding a finger lime seed, turning it over in your palm and wondering if you should plant it, I say go ahead. Give it a proper home in well-draining soil, provide consistent care, and let time work its magic. You might be surprised at what emerges from such humble beginnings.