They are everywhere, hidden in plain sight their tough spear shaped leaves, often dusty like a forgotten piece of furniture. Ever since I’ve been a kid growing up in Southern California, loquat trees have fascinated me. I never knew anybody who ate the fruit except for us kids who were roaming the streets, crossing into backyards that were not ours to steal the juicy golden orbs. Somehow these trees always seem like they didn’t belong to anybody. They were just there like an invitation to plunder. As eight or nine-year-old kids we didn’t care that they were so fiddly to eat. Or that the skin might be a little fuzzy, or that there was this weird membrane that encapsulated the seeds, because the seeds were wonderful, like beads all slippery and smooth. It was hard to throw those seeds away. I imagine that we planted several more incidental trees as the seeds tunneled through the dirt as we spit them out. They seemed like objects one should keep like a treasure. Turns out they are a treasure.
You can make the liquor Nespolino from them. Everyone I know who grew up here has memories of them. Madeleine Brand, host of Press Play on KCRW recalls that there was a lone loquat tree on the playground of her elementary school and during recess she would run there and stuff herself with the fruit. Another colleague from the station, Mario Saavedra, remembered how he dreaded loquat season as a youthful skate border because the fallen fruit would cause many slip and falls.
Now that I’m older, I look forward to loquat season which essentially announces itself when all of a sudden the fruit laden trees come to the foreground in your vision as you drive through the city on the daily. Often I’ll look for the trees and can’t seem to find them anywhere and then I’ll be driving from one place in the city to another usually going east or south from my mid-city home. I’ll turn a corner and there they are. Then I start to see them everywhere. Last night on my way home from Silverlake to mid-city I stopped counting when I reached fifteen within a ten block area.
First one sees the leaves with their deep indentations running in diagonal opposing lines from the mid point of the leaf. The light orange fruit sits atop the leaves in bunches like little bouquets. They always seem to be at the edge of the property as of they were hemmed in by the fence or like they’re trying to escape. I look for the ones that have branches hanging over the sidewalk where you’re allowed to pick the fruit but sometimes the tree is so full and so obviously neglected that I’ll knock on the door or see if people are hanging out in their yard and ask if I can pick some. It’s always good to keep a few paper bags in your car just to be prepared.
It wasn’t until I was in Italy in my 20s and I saw loquats for sale in a store that I realized that they were a fruit that had value to adults. That fruit I tasted was different than the fruit from my childhood cast off trees (that were probably grown from seed). These were obviously bred for special characteristics since they were larger and super juicy. I’m not sure that I can describe how they taste. The flesh has some thing in common with apricots or mangos but maybe I’m just saying that because the color is so similar. The flesh has a close knit texture. It isn’t spongy or crunchy and it has a bit of acidity, but it isn’t acidic. They’re sweet, and smooth and just juicy enough. All my life I just ate them out of hand.
My big loquat revelation came in 1994 when I opened Paula Wolfert’s book Cooking of the Eastern Mediterranean and saw a recipe for Yeni Dünya Kebab aka Kofte with Loquats assembled on skewers and basted with pomegranate molasses as they grilled. I made that recipe as a special at Angeli many times. It’s a Turkish dish from Gazientep and exploring online reveals many versions including this one from turkeysforlife.com where you stuff the fruit with meat, arrange them in concentric circles in a baking dish and roast them. Scroll down for Paula Wolfert’s recipe.
Once you start looking for recipe ideas on how to use the fruit it’s almost overwhelming. I’m definitely going to try this Indian Loquat Pickle and this Japanese Loquat Leaf Tea and I’m intrigued by the idea of adding them to sweet and sour pork. Take a look at this aspirational/inspirational video that takes you from tree cultivation to finished dish. She makes sweet and sour pork with loquats! Check out my conversation (and links) with KCRW Press Play’s Madeleine Brand about the fruit and how to use it. And where to buy a tree for yourself and while you’re at the nursery buy some fruit if you’re afraid to plunder elsewhere.
But really, this is an opportunity to face your fear of neighbors and use the fruit laden trees to introduce yourself to someone and ask if they would mind if you picked a few.
All the photos of loquat trees on this page were sent to me by Good Food listeners via Instagram. Some are from back and front yards, others from public places. I thank all of them for documenting these work horse trees and the fruit they provide.
Paula Wolfert’s Kofte with Loquats
from Cooking from the Eastern Mediterranean
She says “you want firm, unblemished loquats for grilling”
For Kofte:
3/4 lb lean ground lamb or beef
3 tablespoons chopped parsley
1 large garlic clove, crushed with 1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 teaspoon baharat (spice blend)
Pinch of cayenne
2 teaspoons flour
2 tablespoons soda water
10 loquats
4 thin skewers
Oil for brushing the kabobs
1/2 teaspoon pomegranate molasses diluted in 2/3 cup water
1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons chopped scallions
1 tablespoon chopped parsley
Warm pita bread
To make the kofte: Combine the lamb or beef, parsley, garlic, baharat, cayenne, flour, soda water, and salt and pepper. Knead until smooth and well blended. Divide into 16 equal portions.
Halve each loquat around the middle, remove the pits, and trim the ends. Use a melon scoop to remove the inner hard membrane. Skewer alternately with portions of meat, pressing meat and fruit together firmly (see photograph above). Brush with the oil.
Grill over charcoal or under a broiler preheated to its highest setting. Brown well, turning the skewers often. Slip the meat and fruit off the skewers into a wide skillet. [Or set them carefully in a baking dish close to one another to keep the form, then bake covered with the pomegranate molasses].Try to keep the meat and fruit intact. Add the pomegranate molasses diluted in water and the lemon juice. Cover the skillet and continue cooking the kabobs over medium-low embers or on top of the stove 20 minutes. When almost all the liquid has been absorbed carefully transfer the kabobs to individual serving dishes. Scatter the scallions and parsley on top and serve at once with warm pita.
Or you could make this pie from Rachel Lo.
When I was growing up in Santa Barbara we would eat loquats in the afternoons as we rode horses around the neighborhood. We could reach the higher fruit from horseback! Great memories.
I live in SF and have memorized the location of all the trees that I can access from the street :) In Japan they are called Biwa. As is the case with any fruit grown for the Japanese consumer the ones I saw there were huge and cosmetically perfect! I love introducing them to people who have never tried, or heard of them.