Whether it’s the small Golden Honey date; the buttery, chewy Halawi; the sweet, candy-like Kustawi; or the large, meaty Medjool, dates are among the gifts of the desert. We add them to milkshakes, oatmeal and dessert bars and stuff them with everything from cheeses and bacon to nut butters. They even show up on charcuterie boards as a palate-pleasing complement to salty meats and cheeses. Dates are high in fiber, magnesium, potassium, iron and vitamin C, making them a healthy, natural alternative to snacks made with processed sugar.
The History of Dates in The Valley
Although they’re not native to the Americas, dates are an iconic symbol of the Valley of the Sun. Many early postcards meant to entice Eastern visitors to Phoenix featured rugged mountains, sparkling swimming pools, imposing saguaro cacti and waving date palms—Phoenix dactylifera.
Dates have been cultivated for thousands of years in the desert regions of the Middle East and Northern Africa and are culinary staple in those regions. How did they get here?
As with many imported food crops, date palms were originally brought to Arizona for cultivation in the mid- to late 1800s. Since they grow as desert natives in other parts of the world, early agriculturists at the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) thought they might be a suitable crop in the Arizona desert, a harsh place for growing most fruits and vegetables common in the eastern and midwestern U.S. The lush Salt River Valley offered a plentiful water source, while the alkaline soil and heat seemed to mimic conditions in the palms’ natural environment.
Despite countless setbacks faced by Arizona’s emerging date industry,, in 1899 the University of Arizona acquired 15 acres just south of Tempe and, in collaboration with USDA, established the state’s first truly scientific experimental date orchard. Because dates are dioecious—meaning each plant has either male or female flowers, but not both—the only way to reliably propagate them is by collecting the offshoots (clones) from the bottom of existing trees. Seed-grown trees with mixed genetics may or may not produce fruit, and if they do, it may or may not be desirable. Experts from the USDA visited the Middle East to acquire shoots from the most promising varieties and planted them in Tempe.
The experiment brought difficulties, from insect pests to rain at the wrong time of the year. Still, farmers transplanted from the eastern U.S. who were convinced they could “tame” the desert and turn it into “productive” land were certain that dates could be one of Arizona’s most lucrative industrial crops. The research team at the experimental farm taught them to adapt their growing practices to the environment.
Like many other great ideas to take hold in the history of Arizona, the date business was characterized by booms and busts. It was easier to grow dates in the friendlier climate of California, and production there eventually eclipsed Arizona’s. During World War II sugar rationing, date production grew to help fill the demand for an alternative natural sweetener. By the 1960s, as rampant development began to blanket the Valley, agriculture was pushed farther away, and eventually most date production moved to the area around Yuma.
A Phoenix Local: The Black Sphinx
Perhaps no variety of date exemplifies that development pressure better than the Black Sphinx. First discovered growing in a Phoenix front yard in the late 1920s by Roy Franklin, the tree was a volunteer that had sprung from a dropped seed from another tree variety. It was a lucky accident. The fruit was thin-skinned and soft but creamy, with notes of honey, vanilla and caramel. Franklin persuaded his friend, philanthropist and landowner Ellen Brophy, to commit 47 acres of her property—at the foot of Camelback Mountain, in what’s now the Arcadia area—to Black Sphinx cultivation.
The new Black Sphinx date grove was planted with offshoots of the original tree. When Ellen Brophy died in 1934, her son Frank and his friend Ed Peterson joined Franklin to try to build a commercial date operation. However, while Black Sphinx dates are delicious, they’re also notoriously fragile and ill-suited to long storage and shipping.
The partners provided wholesale dates to gift-basket marketer Harry & David, and eventually, in the early 1950s, opened a lunch patio and farm store, known as the Sphinx Date Ranch. They also diversified with other date products—baked goods, candy, jams and marmalades—that added a revenue stream when the dates were out of season.
The enterprise came to the attention of visiting celebrities and politicians. According to Rebecca Seitz, current co-owner of Sphinx Date Ranch, the lunch patio was popular with wealthy women visiting the nearby Elizabeth Arden spa, and word spread. The business was soon shipping date gift packs to Hollywood elite and even to President Eisenhower.
But the cost of maintaining, pollinating and harvesting the dates soon overwhelmed the business with debt, so the partners decided to subdivide and sell off housing parcels among the date groves. Today, you can still find around 20 of those original date palms dotting the yards of homes in Arcadia’s Mountgrove neighborhood. For a long time, those trees were the only source of Black Sphinx dates. Homeowners continue to harvest the dates today but the trees—some more than 50 feet tall—are aging out of production.
Black Sphinx dates became so rare that they earned a place on the Slow Food Ark of Taste, a registry dedicated to preserving foods at risk of disappearing. Now, though, they’re on an upward trend again. “They’re not available in large quantities but they’re not at risk anymore,” said Seitz. Several small farms across the Valley grow them as a supplemental crop; Black Sphinx fans eagerly await the fall harvest and snap up the inventory.
As for the Sphinx Date Ranch, it continued as a mail order and seasonal retail operation after moving from the original location, which was demolished to make way for condos. After several ownership changes and moves, the Sphinx Date Co. Palm & Pantry has been in the hands of mother/daughter partners Sharyn and Rebecca Seitz since 2014. The little farmhouse on Scottsdale Road has become a must-stop for visitors and neighborhood regulars. The Seitzes carry a broad variety of Arizona products, from many rare dates to salsas, beer and wine, nuts, dried fruits and other local culinary gems. They also make date shakes—a delicious, creamy treat on a hot summer day. And they’ve kept up with the robust mail-order side of the business, which increases during the holidays.
While the company no longer grows its own dates, Rebecca Seitz says they source from local farms and commercial growers around Yuma. They also partner with Arizona State University’s date farm, which is one of the few date germplasms in the U.S. (A germplasm is a collection of the genetic material of a species used for research, breeding and conservation).
As date farms began to disappear from the Valley in the 1990s, ASU dedicated acreage at the Polytechnic campus in Mesa to preserving more than 40 different and rare date cultivars, making their shoots available to other growers and researchers. Students and other citizen volunteers maintain the trees and every autumn harvest the fruit, which is sold to the campus population and the public.
Several years ago, ASU replaced the aging fan palms on the Palm Walk at the Tempe campus with Medjool date palms. Right now, there’s talk of further need for classroom space on the Poly campus, so the future of the farm there is uncertain.
Unfortunately for the Sphinx Date Co., after 30 years in the same location, the business is being forced to move after the sale of the building. Rebecca Seitz said they’re hoping to stay in Scottsdale as an homage to the city’s original agricultural roots, which are rapidly disappearing.
“We’re being forced into change,” she said, “but it’s rooted in opportunity. We’ve been growing lots here, and this will give us the opportunity to grow more and secure the future of the business. Our experience in educating and teaching our customers as a local neighborhood store will go forward, and we’ll bring that wherever we go. Our intention is to keep things business as usual.” She adds that they hope to be settled in their new space before the holidays and winter tourist season kick into high gear.
When people think of eating local in Arizona, it’s usually citrus, tomatoes, chiles, squash, corn and beans. But this fall, look for local dates at your neighborhood farmers market. Seek out rare varieties like the Black Sphinx (although local Medjools are just fine, too). The more interest farmers see, the more likely they’ll add dates to their offerings. Bake with them, make your own date syrup for pancakes, add them as snacks for the kid’s lunches or just eat them right out of the package. After all, they’re among the desert’s gifts.
