
Hello, good morning!
Do you remember the Pitaya? Its season has passed, but a few days ago I spoke with Fran, who has been working with this plant for years, and he told me about how complex it is to adapt this crop to Valencia. But he has certainly done it!
This fruit is a tropical fruit that looks like a dragon's egg on the outside and has tiny black seeds inside. It is also known as dragon fruit 🐉 and comes from much warmer and more humid places, such as Central America or Southeast Asia. There, winters are milder and rainfall is constant, so they grow in a perfect environment for their development.
In other words, nothing like our Mediterranean climate... However, what grows very well here are oranges, and we continue to cultivate them:

But let's get back to the dragon fruit.
The big question is, how has Fran managed to make this tropical plant thrive here, so far from its ideal climate?
With a lot of thought, care... and a paintbrush.
Let's start with the practical. Here, the August sun is merciless. And although pitaya needs light, if it gets too much, the sun can burn its fleshy stems. That's why shade nets are installed: light covers that are placed over the crop and filter direct sunlight. It's not total shade, which would also be harmful, but something in between. Just enough so that the plant can breathe without getting scorched.
In addition, the ground under the plant is covered with pruning remains and dry leaves, which we call "mulch" in the field. This simple system has several benefits: it keeps the soil moist for longer, reduces the temperature at ground level, and, as it decomposes, feeds the soil microorganisms.
All without a single chemical. And maintaining the biodiversity of the land is one of the bases of Fran's ecological management: no pesticides or strange fertilizers. Just homemade compost and a little tender loving care.
Perhaps what fascinates me most about his cultivation is how he gets the pitaya to bear fruit. Because this plant does not self-pollinate. In its natural habitat, that job is done by bats, which fly around at night among flowers looking for nectar and, incidentally, leaving pollen where it should be.
Here, without tropical bats, bees are not much use: the pitaya flower is so large and deep that the poor things cannot even reach the pollen.
Look at this beautiful flower:

So during the night when the dragon fruit flower opens (and it only does so for a single night), Fran takes his paintbrush and goes plant by plant, flower by flower, gently passing it from the stamen to the pistil. This ensures that the fruit forms.
It is a tiny gesture that he repeats dozens, hundreds of times, under the moon. A job that would be unthinkable in an industrial operation, but which is possible on a small farm worked with respect for the plant and the environment and, above all, it bears fruit... and what fruits. Sweet, full of water, with that fresh and crunchy texture. If you have tried Fran's pitaya, you know what I'm talking about.

Growing pitaya in Valencia is not easy. But perhaps that's the beauty of it: not giving in to convention, observing what a plant needs and giving it just that, even if it means inventing it from scratch. Listening to the earth, even if it speaks a different language.
And if one summer night you see a farmer in the middle of a field, paintbrush in hand, acting like a bat... don't worry. He's not crazy. He's cultivating the future, in his own way.
Remember that, although it is no longer pitaya season, we have more than twenty seasonal products to offer you on our website.
Place your order and receive fresh produce, freshly harvested, at your home.
Thanks for being on the other side, see you next week.
A big hug!

