Hey there, ready to tackle this Monday?
Today, I'm bringing you one of those stories that start in the East and end up smelling of orange blossom. I promise you'll understand by the end why some fruits demand careful timing and a surgeon's nerves to harvest. And no, I'm not kidding.
The star is the Tanaka loquat. The loquat originated in China, but this variety is Japanese, and yet, when it reached the Mediterranean, it decided to stay put. I don't blame it. Our climate is truly generous, the kind that invites you back for seconds.
Thanks to that mild sun, gentle breezes, and mild winters, we grow half the world's map here without even getting on a plane. The Mediterranean is like that; it opens its arms and the land works its magic.
Our colleague Lorenzo is the one who tends to the Tanaka. I swear he knows every branch like I know my lunch. He works with techniques he learned by watching his elders, with the patience of an artisan's workshop and that care that isn't on the labels but is evident in the first bite.
Here, we still farm the old way, step by step, by hand, just like our grandparents did.
The Tanaka loquat is a non-climacteric fruit. Translated into plain language, once it's picked from the tree, it won't ripen any further. The sugar content won't increase, nor will the flavor refine.
That's why harvesting is surgical. It must be picked at its exact point, with a vibrant golden color and a touch that gives just enough, like a new cushion. We go through the trees several times to select only those that are ready. There are no second chances here. It's a yes or no. And if you're unsure, come back tomorrow.
Furthermore, the loquat whispers in our ear that spring is coming. When the orchard awakens in April, the Tanaka appears like a trumpeter, announcing its arrival. And beware, its season is brief. It passes in weeks what other fruits stretch into months. If you blink, you'll miss it.
It's like your aunt's Sunday paella, which she makes perfectly and then it disappears until further notice. But when it's time, it's time. And the first bite tastes like a promise fulfilled.
Perhaps you're wondering if this journey from China to Japan and then to Valencia changes anything on the plate. I'll tell you what I see every day. Fruits and vegetables don't care about nationality. They don't ask for ID or to register their residency.
What matters are the hands that care for them, the dedication with which they are watered, the energy with which they are pruned, and the hope with which one goes out to the field, even when the east wind blows.
When those hands work with mind and heart, the fruit tastes of truth. And just look how generous the Mediterranean is, embracing what comes from afar and making it its own without asking for anything in return.
If you see Lorenzo's loquats on the website and feel like trying them, don't take a nap. They go straight from the tree to your home, harvested the same morning I review your order.
We work this way because we believe in selling our produce at a fair price and in you tasting the land in every bite. And because there are fruits, like the Tanaka, that don't forgive the clock.
Thank you for being on the other side every week, for supporting the farmers who still work the old way but with their minds very much in the present.
Here we are, with mud on our boots and good humor, learning from the land and telling you about it so that when you bite into a loquat, you know everything behind it 🌱
A big hug from the Valencia orchard and see you next week.
