Pawpaws Taste Like Bananas and Mangoes, But You Won't Find The Superfood in Stores

Around the corner from my home in Birmingham, AL, there's an old-fashioned diner—what Southerners call a meat-and-three—with an even older-fashioned name: The Paw Paw Patch.

Newcomers might think it has something to do with the owner's grandfather. Those in the know, however, are aware that a pawpaw patch is a secret gem: a stand of trees, hidden sometimes deep in the woods where some of the most unexpectedly delicious fruit is likely to appear.

But most Americans don't know about pawpaws any more. You can't buy them in grocery stores, and they're difficult to farm.

However, this hardy native tree has fed and delighted generations of foragers, and the trees are still abundant in parts of the country. If you're lucky (or determined) enough, you can still readily appreciate this unique fruit for yourself. Here's everything you should know about pawpaws.

Pawpaws are the fruit of the tree Asimina triloba, a native species that's been growing in North America since before humans had been on the continent.

According to Andrew Moore, who wrote the definitive history of pawpaws in his James Beard-nominated 2015 book Pawpaw: In Search of America's Forgotten Fruit, a pawpaw is most closely related to tropical fruits, such as papaya or banana–though the trees themselves are hardy enough to withstand cold winters.

Pawpaw fruit looks like hand-sized kidney beans, with a curving oblong shape, greenish skin, and pale yellow flesh with giant brown-black seeds inside. The fruit grows in clusters, somewhat like bananas. They've been called the largest edible fruit in the United States.

The flavor is, as Moore says, "most often described as a cross between a banana and a mango." Some people, in fact, call them banango fruit. (They're also called prairie banana, Indian banana, or wild banana.) Pawpaws are typically only eaten when they're so ripe that they fall off the tree, and the flesh is soft and delicate, like a custard.

Similar to bananas, pawpaw skins start off green, then begin to spot and turn black as they ripen and the starch in the fruit turns to sugar. Some aficionados will wait until a ripe pawpaw is shriveled and nearly black all over before cutting it open and eating it with a spoon—when it's likely to be both softest and sweetest.

Describing his own experience first eating one, Moore called it "truly tropical, with hints of vanilla, caramel, and mango." Another, he said, tasted like melon.

Pawpaws were sold at one time in public markets. Moore cites examples of the fruit being readily available at Cincinnati markets in the 1880s, for example, or in the 1910s in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.

However, pawpaws aren't readily suited for modern supermarket shopping. They can't be picked unripe or they won't ripen. And when they are ripe, they don't travel well, or last long.

Additionally, while the trees are fast-growing and abundant, they can't be easily grown in orchards. They prefer shady, moist areas along river banks. Their deep purple flowers, which bloom in the spring, need to be cross-pollinated by specific kinds of beetles—bees won't do it. And if the beetles are unavailable, the tree will start reproducing via suckers, and won't produce fruit at all.

All of this makes reliably getting fruit from a tree each year and bringing it to a market incredibly difficult.

Most people who enjoy pawpaws regularly forage for them, finding productive patches (and keeping them a close-held secret to avoid competitors) then waiting just until the fruit is ripe to collect it.

There are some pawpaw lovers who are attempting to domesticate and cultivate wild pawpaw trees. Much of Moore's book is dedicated to people who have or are attempting to grow pawpaws to sell, but despite decades of effort, there's been little success.

Frozen pawpaw pulp is available from some places. (You can buy it online.) However, it tends to be expensive and in limited supply for similar reasons.

Though they are most closely related to tropical fruit trees, pawpaws themselves are adapted to a temperate climate, and in fact need a cold period in order to grow well and to fruit.

Pawpaw trees grow most readily across all of Ohio, Indiana, Tennessee, Kentucky, Virginia, and West Virginia, as well as most of Missouri, Arkansas, and North and South Carolina.

Its range also covers parts of northern Georgia, Alabama, and Louisiana, as well as small parts of Pennsylvania, Michigan, Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas. Trees have been found as far north as southern Canada, and as far south as northern Florida.

The simplest and most sure way to find a pawpaw to eat is to attend the Ohio Pawpaw Festival, which is held each September in Albany, Ohio.

Foraging for your own is a trickier thing. If you live in one of the states where pawpaws grow, you can try asking around for good spots, though people who find them may be less than excited to share.

There's a Reddit channel dedicated to pawpaws where you might ask, or you could post on your local social media feeds and hope to find someone who can show you a good spot.

If you want to go scouting yourself, you may want to wait until late summer or early fall. Moore notes that pawpaws tend to fruit around the same time that goldenrod is in bloom, saying "when fields are yellow ... it's time to check the pawpaw patch."

The trees tend to grow near or along rivers, creeks, and streams, in the understory beneath taller trees such as oaks or hickory. Look for a shortish tree, typically less than 15 to 25 feet tall, with huge foot-long leaves, that are green, sometimes fading to yellow. If you smell a strong fruit smell, you've likely found a tree.

In the springtime, pawpaw trees are distinguished by their deep purple bell-shaped flowers that appear before the leaves, and have a faint yeasty or fetid smell.

To collect pawpaws, simply pick up any that have fallen to the ground, or gently shake the tree and ripe ones will fall. Don't pick unripe fruit—they won't ever ripen.