Pawpaw, poor man’s banana, bandango, custard apple, prairie banana, and the Indiana banana. A fruit so widespread that it has half a dozen names, but most people don’t know what the fruit is. I didn’t know what pawpaws were before I stumbled across Pawpaw: In Search Of America’s Forgotten Fruit by Andrew Moore. 

Photo of where pawpaws naturally grow in the southeast of the U.S. 

Source: Pawpaw: In Search Of America’s Forgotten Fruit By Andrew Moore

The pawpaw, or Asimina triloba, is the largest fruit native to North America. Pawpaws grow on a tree and can be harvested in the fall by gently shaking the trunk. Pawpaws have a green outside with a sweet, yellow inside when ripe. They are incredibly versatile and common in the Pawpaw Belt. Avoid the emetic black seeds mixed in with the pulp and it’s a custardy treat that can be used in beer, ice cream, smoothies, and pie. 

But despite their delicious taste, pawpaws won’t be found in almost any grocery store. 

Growing pawpaws on farms is incredibly difficult, so they are usually foraged from wild pawpaw trees. Pawpaws rot within days of ripening, and only ripen while on the tree – unlike apples. One pawpaw farmer, Jim Davis, lost the majority of his crop when a hurricane hit because he could not pick them early and let them ripen later. Nevertheless, he has continued to grow pawpaws but is one of the only ones and it’s not hard to see why. 

Pawpaws are incredibly finicky. Trees take six years to produce fruit, which causes an extreme lag between costs and profits that is unsustainable for most farmers. Additionally, it requires a lot of manpower as they must be picked by hand to avoid bruising their sensitive skin. Getting the pulp out is also best done by hand or as much as 50% is wasted. Needless to say, Davis is one of the few farmers willing to take on this crop. 

Despite this, Moore still wants to spread the pawpaw and bring them to grocery stores all over the country. He believes the pulp can be vacuum sealed like guacamole to avoid browning, allowing everyone to try this fruit. While this is an admirable goal, it is unlikely many farmers would be willing to take on these burdens. Foraging will likely remain the most common way to enjoy pawpaws, as they have been for centuries. 

Moore follows the history of pawpaws from before human contact all the way to modernity. Pawpaws have been in America since giant sloths ate them while roaming the continent. Indigenous groups used them for food, with the Iroquois using it in sauces and corn cakes. The Caddo and Creek tribes also ate this fruit, though they all had different names for it. Spanish conquistador Hernando de Soto relied on them for sustenance on his exploration near what is now Tennessee. Jamestown residents were introduced to it by the Paspahegh tribe. Kids in Appalachia grew up on this throughout the 1900s.

Moore uses anecdotes mixed with this historical context to keep the reader engaged. Between history lessons on who ate pawpaws, he shares his adventures – like how a park ranger was waiting for him at his car while he was pawpaw picking. When he realized, Moore called out “Just picking up pawpaws!” He described himself as looking “like a feverish madman, shaggy-haired, way too wide-eyed and excited, holding a bag of mushy green orbs” but was allowed to continue on his way by the ranger.

The reader follows him as he floats down the Mississippi, attends a pawpaw fair, interviews professors, and works in an orchard. 

This book is an attempt to bring pawpaw back to America. He is passionate, calling himself and others ‘pawpaw nuts.’ His adventures to bring the pawpaw back are funny and sweet by turn. This makes the book engaging, as the reader falls into the same level of care as he illustrates his love of pawpaws. 

Moore interviews everyone he meets about pawpaws, including people selling fruit on the side of the road and waitresses at the diners he eats at. One stand out is Neal Peterson. Also known as Johnny Pawpawseed, Peterson is a retired man who has been trying to spread the pawpaw throughout the United States for the past thirty years. He has bred multiple varieties of it, much like apples can be,  and sells seeds and trees to farmers. Peterson has been doing this for over 30 years. Moore tries those varieties in his hunt for the best pawpaw, but also wild ones he found from North Carolina to Louisiana. They were all unique, much like the state’s pawpaw culture. 

Different states’ knowledge of pawpaws varies as widely as the location they grow. Appalachia has plenty of knowledge and many people grew up eating the fruit. Appalachians were self-reliant during the Great Depression, and foraged for food – including pawpaws. This tradition was passed down and remains popular within Appalachia. Inversely, pawpaws are basically unknown in North Carolina despite growing in both places. Moore explores why and how this is possible, delving deep into possible explanations. 

However, it can get too bogged down in history. Long passages on Lewis and Clark, 1900s pawpaw competitions, and more make for an overwhelming amount of history. Cutting back would allow the pawpaw to shine more and let the reader get attached to individual pawpaw enthusiasts. 

This book is a wonderful entryway into foraging, providing knowledge and history of this delicious fruit. It also answers questions about how to harvest, how to eat it, and what to look out for. It is a comprehensive look at this ancient fruit, and is perfect for those wondering about the nature around them.