by Curt Kovener
The blackberry crop was a bust in the wilderness this summer. And because of the lengthy hot, dry weather, I am not hopeful that my usual hickory nut honey hole will be productive next month.
But, trying to be an optimistic forest dweller on Labor Day I set out on a walk-a-bout in search of paw-paws.
Paw-paws are a unique, frail brittle tree with a difficult productive cycle. They are the first understory tree to bloom in the early spring, often before the towering hardwood counterparts begin to show leaves. I have often seen paw-paw trees covered in their thumbnail size bronze colored, bell-shaped blooms. But because they bloom before pollinators have broken hibernation, the blossom covered spring tree is frequently fallow of fruit in the fall.
Additionally, paw-paws only grow is certain soil types and conditions. Here in the wilderness they are found along a creek bank where a spring trickles moisture even during summer drought. And their broomstick size trunks grow in clusters throughout the area. Hence the chorus of the old song “way down yonder in the paw-paw patch.”
The fruit of the paw-paw—also known as the Hoosier banana—can grow as a single, a double or up to a cluster of three fruits on a pencil diameter branch. When on the tree the fruit is a slightly lighter shade of green than the leaves. When found, they are frequently as hard as baseballs. Those are left on the trees to continue ripening. Sometimes, the fruit is found that has a slight give to it. Those are the one’s to pick before a brisk breeze causes it to drop or a hungry raccoon climbs the tree for a meal.
The trunk and branches of the paw-paw are quite brittle and break easily. Adult raccoons and opossums can break a limb climbing out for a meal. Humans trying to bend a branch to grab a just-out-of-reach paw-paw can as well.
On the day of my trek I easily found the wilderness paw-paw patch but finding fruit was seemingly non-existent.
But walking in the rocky dry creek and gazing upwards, I finally spotted the prize…up a steep moss covered and fallen log strewn creek bank.
I picked my way up the bank holding on to branches and shrubs to help me along. Many were just out of my reach prompting a gentle bend of the branch to test the hardness of the fruit. Eventually I was rewarded with a pair of billiard ball size ripe paw-paws. And as I released the limb, a dull plop was heard near my feet. A fist size paw-paw has been jarred loose and gravity won.
Picking it up I sniffed the sweet, custardy fragrance of the perfectly ripe fruit. Since paw-paws have practically no shelf life, they were placed in the refrigerator. But even cooling doesn’t make them last that long.
They can be processed into pulp for cookies or paw-paw pudding (same recipe as persimmon pudding) or enjoyed eaten fresh.
I hope to make another paw-paw trek during the weekend to add to the harvest.