Martin Fone delves into the peculiar story behind the naming of the kiwi fruit.
With its fuzzy, light brown skin, vibrant green flesh dotted with tiny black seeds, and a tropical flavor reminiscent of a blend of strawberries and bananas, the kiwi fruit has transitioned from a rare exotic to a staple item on supermarket shelves. Brimming with essential antioxidants, boasting nearly twice the vitamin C content of an orange, and rich in vitamins K and E, it has become a favored choice in today’s health-conscious era. Its versatility shines through whether consumed raw, blended into a smoothie, or, following a page from Chinese culinary traditions, enjoyed as a jam.
Comprising between forty and sixty species of Actinidia, the kiwi fruit earns its taxonomic generic name, with A. deliciosa, a distinct species since the 1980s, being the most commonly encountered in stores. Flourishing equally well in both the northern and southern hemispheres, kiwi fruit production has evolved into a significant industry, with a global market valued at an estimated US$1.89 billion in 2024.
However, less than a century ago, the fruit was virtually unknown, particularly in the Western world. Its remarkable ascent — one of the most remarkable success stories in commercial agriculture in recent decades — owes much to a blend of fortune, persistence, and marketing savvy.
Contrary to its moniker, the kiwi fruit is native to the temperate forests of the mountains and hills of southwest China, where it was highly valued for its medicinal properties. Referred to as Yang tao, meaning “sunny peach,” the fruit was initially documented during the Song dynasty in the 12th century and was harvested from the wild rather than cultivated. By the time Li Shizhen compiled his comprehensive work on medicine, natural history, and Chinese herbology, Bencao Gangmu, in 1597, it had acquired the name Mihou tao, or “macaque fruit,” due to the preference of monkeys for it.
The first specimens of A. chinensis reached Europe in the 1750s, courtesy of Jesuit missionary Father Pierre Le Chéron d’Incarville. During a plant-collecting expedition to China between 1843 and 1845, Robert Fortune, commissioned by the Horticultural Society of London, also sent a sample back, which found its home at the Royal Botanic Gardens in Kew. However, it wasn’t until 1886 that the first fruits of A. chinensis made an appearance in Europe, with Kew receiving specimens preserved in spirit. Initially, these plants and seeds were viewed as ornamental novelties rather than sources of a delectable, edible fruit, particularly since early attempts at cultivation yielded inconsistent results.
In 1900, seeds of A. chinensis dispatched by plant collector E.H. Wilson from Hupeh to James Veitch & Sons Ltd., a prominent nursery in England, sprouted successfully. However, they frustratingly yielded only male plants, dashing hopes for commercial cultivation. Meanwhile, seeds sent in 1904 by Consul-General Wilcox from Hankow to the United States Department of Agriculture showed more promise, with vines bearing fruit at the Plant Introduction Field Station in Chico, California, by 1910. Nonetheless, their commercial potential remained untapped.
While England and the United States faced setbacks, New Zealand seized the opportunity. Missionary and headmistress of a New Zealand girls’ school, Mary Isabel Fraser, gathered A. chinensis seeds from plants she encountered at a Church of Scotland mission in Yichang. She sent these seeds to Alexander Allison, a farmer in Whanganui, who planted them. By 1910, the resulting vines bore their inaugural fruits.
By 1922, commercially available cultivars emerged, with nurseryman Hayward Wright of Avondale, now a suburb of Auckland, hailing the plant in his catalogue as “a remarkable fruiting climber.” It bore a highly prized new fruit ripening over an extended winter period, filling a void in the seasonal fruit spectrum. This variety eventually became known as the Hayward cultivar.
It wasn’t until the late 1930s that the first commercial orchards and large-scale plantings of kiwi fruits were established. Initially, the produce was solely intended for the domestic market. However, a significant turning point occurred in 1952 when Jim MacLoughlin and Grahame Bayliss exported kiwi fruits for the first time, shipping thirteen tonnes to England. Within seventy years, kiwi fruits have become a cornerstone of New Zealand’s commercial horticulture sector, with 184 million trays grown for export, resulting in gross sales of NZ$2.911 billion in 2021/22.
The success of the Hayward cultivar propelled its worldwide spread, enabling other countries such as the United States, Italy, and even China (a case of sending coals to Newcastle) to become significant producers of kiwi fruit, often rivaling or surpassing New Zealand’s position in the global market. Recognizing that the proverbial genie was out of the bottle, the New Zealand Kiwifruit Authority lobbied their government in 1982 to ban the export of kiwi plants and seeds, but their appeals were disregarded. Remarkably, the genesis of the Hayward cultivar and its subsequent iterations can be directly traced back to the seeds brought by Mary Fraser from Yichang.
The naming of the fruit is a captivating tale in itself. Once it ventured beyond the Far East, it was initially dubbed the Chinese Gooseberry, despite having no relation to the gooseberry, although it did originate from China. However, traders soon realized that this name encountered consumer resistance, particularly in seeking new markets in the 1950s, as gooseberries were out of favor and anti-communist sentiments discouraged any association, real or perceived, with Mao’s China.
After considerable deliberation, Turners and Growers, a fruit packaging company based in Auckland, introduced the term “melonette” in 1958. However, this name also posed challenges. At the time, there were hefty import tariffs on melons, and there was concern that although not a melon, the fruit might attract a prohibitive tax, rendering it too expensive for potential new customers.
The following year Turner and Growers’ marketing department pulled off a masterstroke. Recognising that the fruit looked vaguely like the flightless brown bird that the country had adopted as its national symbol since 1908, they appropriated its Maori name, kiwi, for their next attempt to rid it of its connotations with gooseberries. It was a stroke of genius, immediately associating a fruit that was native to the Chinese mainland with New Zealand. And the rest is history.
Curiously, even parts of the Chinese-speaking world have now adopted the name, albeit partially transliterated. In Hong Kong and Taiwan it is known as qi yi quo in Mandarin and kei yi awo in Cantonese, both meaning strange fruit, while an internet search of Mihou Tao still brings up plenty of results, mainly from the People’s Republic. Chinese gooseberries, on the other hand, seem to have sunk into oblivion.
And just to stir the pot further, the kiwi fruit is China’s national fruit. For aficionados of the fruit, though, they have much to thank Mary Fraser for.