What do pineapples and Phibsboro have in common?

A question asked by nobody in the history of either pineapples or Phibsboro, but I’m going to tell you anyway.

What pineapples and Phibsboro have in common is one of my best friends, whose name I have decided to withhold for “privacy reasons” – let’s just say it rhymes with Spartan.

Before I go much further, here is a brief history of Phibsboro for the uninitiated non-Dubliners. Phibsboro (some people spell it Phibsborough; those people are rarely from Phibsboro) is a neighbourhood on Dublin’s northside. Traditionally a working-class community, located along the Royal Canal and close to the city centre, it has become rather gentrified in recent years. Beloved by students and hipsters, it has some of the best pubs and coffee shops on the northside of Dublin. In a nutshell, it’s bougie.

More importantly, however, Phibsboro is home to one of my best friends. I have spent many a great weekend partying in Phibsboro with Spartan.

And the pineapples? Well I won’t give you a brief history of pineapples, but I do have a story about pinepaples that Spartan probably hopes has been consigned to the past.

Pineapples grow low to the ground – and not on trees as I thought for an embarrassingly long time

You see, Spartan loves to try his hands at growing plants and food in his courtyard garden in Phibsboro. The problem is, it gets approximately 10 minutes of sunlight all year. His north-facing courtyard is paved over and surrounded by high, concrete walls. But the space is beautiful and full of personality. Spartan has filled it with upcycled furniture, repurposed pallets, colourful raised beds and firepits (one is made from a shopping trolley, which may just be the most Phibsboro thing to ever happen in Phibsboro).

Spartan regularly asks me for advice on plants to grow that love the shade, I give him said advice – and he proceeds to ignore it entirely. He has also been known to send me photos of said plants when they die asking me why they died.

Usually the answer is water. Not a lack of. An overabundance of. Most gardeners are guilty of one or the other, but Spartan waters his plants more than I thought plants could be watered.

But back to the pineapples. Last year, Spartan got his hands on a new raised bed and decided to try out some plants he hadn’t grown before. It was all going well, and he was only delighted with his progress, so he sent me a photo of his latest gardening success – and that’s when I spotted it.

The unmistakeable crown of a pineapple poking out of the soil.

After some (not-at-all) gentle questioning from an incredulous Fiona, Spartan admitted he was indeed trying to grow a pineapple in Phibsboro. Then after some (even-less-gentle) follow-up questions, he told me how he went about sourcing, planting and cultivating his tropical crop.

He bought a pineapple in Tesco, brought it home and stuck it in a raised bed.

To the shock of absolutely nobody, the pineapple was not thriving.

Now, I am not saying it’s impossible to grow pineapples in Ireland, but trying to grow them in shaded courtyard in Phisboro is probably not the best start – and doing so in March is not ideal either.

To give Spartan credit, he did get a couple of things right: you can grow a new pineapple from a pineapple you bought in a shop, and pineapples grow low to the ground – and not on trees as I thought for an embarrassingly long time.

“But Fiona, I still don’t know if i can actually grow pineapples in Dublin,” you may be thinking. You can, but I have never tried it.

So, inspired by Spartan and his Phibsboro pineapples (yes, there were two, he tried the same thing again*), I am going to try to grow a pineapple this year from a pineapple I bought in my local shop.

* I only know this because when asking for an update on his plants a few months later, I got another photo – and there were now two pineapples sticking out of the ground.

I am slightly concerned that the pineapple I am starting with already looks a bit dead, but sure look, how important could that be?

If I’m really lucky it may turn out like Spartan’s masterpiece:

All that aside, what I’d really like you to take from this tale of Spartan and his pineapples is this: be more like Spartan. Try growing whatever the hell you like. Forget the stuffy rules about plant spacing and Latin names and fancy designer gardens. Try experimenting in the garden. Try planting pineapples and making firepits out of trolleys. I guarantee you, even if you don’t manage to grow much successfully, you’ll do something more important – you’ll have a bit of fun.

If you fancy giving pineapple growing a bash with me, I’ve shared a step-by-step guide below. Join me on Instagram and let me know how your pineapples are. And yes, if I manage to become Ireland’s first wildly successful commercial pineapple grower, I will definitely be naming my first cultivar ‘Phibsboro.’

Step 1. Cut the top of the pineapple off, about 2cm from the leafy crown. Eat the pineapple. But not on a pizza. Nobody needs that in their life.

Step 2. Trim most of the fruit from around the base, leaving the core of the crown with the leaves intact.

Step 3. Peel away the first few leaves and the base of the stem until the skin is exposed and let it dry for a day or two

Step 4: Pop in a glass of water until some roots form.

Step 5. Fill a pot with compost (remember to add some grit for drainage) and pop in the crown.

Step 5. Water well and put in sunny spot with lots of heat.

Step 6. Stare at pot willing the pineapple to grow. It doesn’t help in the slightest, but you will absolutely do it. You’ll be doing it for a long time though, because pineapples take three years to grow. Sorry.

Pro tip: Be careful not to slice your finger open on the pineapple as I did, which is almost as embarrassing as the time I cut my finger on an onion, but that’s a story for another day.

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