You haven’t truly experienced the scent of autumn in San Diego until you’ve walked past a hedge of Acca sellowiana in full fruit. I remember the first
Standing in my orchard here in San Diego, surrounded by the sweet, musky scent of ripening feijoas, I often get asked the same question by visitors staring
There is nothing quite as heartbreaking in the garden as anticipating that first, tart-sweet bite of a feijoa, only to slice it open and find it wriggling with life.
If you have ever walked through a San Diego orchard in late October, you know exactly when the feijoas are ready without even looking at the ground.
If you walked blindfolded through my orchard here in San Diego during late autumn, you wouldn’t need a map to find the feijoa bushes.
There is nothing quite as disheartening as waiting six long months for your feijoa harvest, only to pick fruit the size of a green olive.
There is a specific moment in late autumn here in San Diego that I wait for all year. It happens when I walk past the hedge on the south side of my property
Standing in my orchard here in San Diego, surrounded by the silvery-green foliage of my Acca sellowiana trees, I often get asked the same question by visitors
If I had a dollar for every time a customer walked up to my stand here in San Diego, pointed at a basket of small, green, egg-shaped fruits, and asked, “
Here in San Diego, where the Pacific breeze meets our inland valleys, I have spent years perfecting the art of growing subtropical treasures.