Guava is a tropical fruit that’s adapted to Southern California weather. Trees here typically start bearing fruit around Halloween, peak in the days before and after Thanksgiving, and wind down by January.
The smell of guavas is in Southern California kitchens. Here’s why lots of people hate it
But this year is different: Warmer weather this fall is lengthening the Southern California guava harvest.
“Since we have really dry weather and no rain in sight, the trees are holding the fruit longer, so it is extending the season for us here [in Pomona],” said Bryan Van Norden, the specialty crop farm supervisor at Cal Poly Pomona.
He takes care of a grove of more than 100 guava trees on campus, along with orange and grapefruit orchards and a vineyard. The groves are part of Cal Poly Pomona’s College of Agriculture.
“I love guavas,” Van Norden said. His wife, he added, is from Thailand and prepares a salad with guava, chili, lime juice, and cilantro.
And during peak guava season, he said, he’ll pick some off the trees and take a bite as he and other workers harvest the fruit to sell at the campus farm store.
Plan your visit
-
Cal Poly Pomona Farm Store | Website
-
Store hours:
- Open daily: 10 a.m. to 6 p.m.
- Store closed Dec. 24 to Jan. 1, reopens Jan. 2
-
Address: Kellogg Ranch (Located just south of Temple Ave.) | 4102 S. University Drive, Pomona, CA 91768
-
Good to know:
- Parking is free at the Farm Store.
- Call for more information about curbside pickup: (909) 869-4906
“At the farm store, they order limited quantities because it makes the whole farm store smell, it smells good to me.”
Guavas polarize people
But other people have a different preference, Van Norden said.
Guava’s strong flavor and smell can split people into two camps: the guava lovers and the guava haters.
A posting about guavas on my Facebook account led people to make comments like:
Recent postings on Facebook about guavas.
Adolfo Guzman-Lopez
/
LAist
)
And these:
“Disgusting. And we have a guava tree in our backyard! We let the squirrels have them.” — Amanda Spellens Galath
“I don’t like the fruit itself, it triggers my allergies like crazy, but I looooove it in drinks and desserts.” — Jasmine Cortez
For many it’s a visceral reaction.
“I’m Mexican and I know all about them but I’ve just never been drawn toward them,” said L.A. resident Ruth Valadez. Her feelings are actually stronger than that.
The ingredients for ponche before cooking.
Adolfo Guzman-Lopez
/
LAist
)
A few years ago a friend, she said, brought her a bag of guavas. She decided she’d try them and put the bag in the refrigerator.
“Then when I opened the fridge a couple days later, I literally threw up [from the smell],” she said.
A recent guava comment on Facebook.
Adolfo Guzman-Lopez
/
LAist
)
For others, the aversion is more nuanced.
“The smell brings me back to being trapped in the back seat of my parents’ car traveling through Mexico with a big box of them in the trunk,” said Agustín Orozco on Facebook. “The smell filled the car for days, and I’ve never been the same. I like them, but still get overwhelmed by the smell.”
An ode to the guava
-
Poet and print maker Xitlalic Guijosa-Osuna has a tongue-in-cheek guava-inspired poem she wrote about 14 years ago. Here’s a sampling:
Why do people feel so strongly?
Is nature or nurture responsible for the taste or distaste for guava?
“You do pass on some of those flavors through your blood… and through the placenta,” said Patricia Murillo, an OB-GYN at Scripps Memorial Hospital La Jolla.
Guavas with brown spots.
Adolfo Guzman-Lopez
/
LAist
)
Murillo has her own memories of guava (she uses the Spanish word guayaba). A guava tree stood for decades in front of the house where she grew up in Oceanside. Her mother made the Mexican holiday drink, ponche, with plenty of guayabas from that tree.
The tree was taken out not long after her mother died because it was too close to the house and causing damage. The Thanksgiving after her mother’s death, Murillo said, family members told each other, including the younger generation, to bring something that reminded them of her.
“One of my nephews brought a bowl of guayabas,” Murillo said. “We lost it.”
