Our family has grown avocados in the Bay of Plenty for two generations. My grandfather planted the first Hass tree in 1978 on a hillside above Katikati — soft volcanic soil, warm sea air, and just enough winter chill to make the fruit hold its oils.
For most of the last forty years, our fruit went to a pack-house, then a wholesaler, then a supermarket cool-store, then — finally, weeks later — onto a shelf. We were getting around $1.00 per avocado at the gate. The same fruit sold for $3.50 in the shop, often bruised and gas-ripened. Customers were disappointed. Growers were squeezed. Something in the middle was very broken.
Avoroa — "avocado" and Aotearoa — is our answer. We pick to order, wrap in compostable kraft, and drive to Auckland and Hamilton twice a week ourselves. Growers get paid fairly. Customers get fruit that actually tastes like an avocado. Nothing sits in a cool-store for a fortnight. Nothing rides on a container ship. Nothing in the middle.

Most orchards grow one variety and sell it to a wholesaler who blends it into a bin. We planted three, because each of them is genuinely different — and each of them shines at a different time.
The one you grew up on. Dark, pebbly skin, buttery nut-brown flesh. High oil content, big flavour, the reigning champion of guacamole.
Round, smooth, glossy green. Twice the size of a Hass and creamier, but milder. One Reed feeds two on toast. Stays green when ripe — squeeze, don't stare.
First off the trees each winter. Thin-skinned, light, gentle in flavour. The variety our kids reach for first — perfect for smoothies and salads.
