All My “Phaldren”

Above: Phalaenopsis displays at the New York Botanical Garden’s Orchid Show, February 2023

Let’s admit it—we sometimes take the phalaenopsis for granted. Every supermarket these days is dressed to the teeth in “phals” of every size and color; you can often get a plant in bloom, complete with decorative pot, for under twenty dollars.

But who’s there for you, in the middle of a New York winter, when all you can find in bloom are Christmas cactuses, poinsettias, or Valentine’s Day mini roses in red, white, and pink? Phals, in every color of the rainbow. Who’s still in bloom, well into March, April, May, while we New Yorkers mourn the too-short blooming of the crocuses and daffodils and peonies, waiting for the roses to bloom? Phals. Who elevates to elegance the humblest of hardware stores as well as the most astute of botanical gardens, when everything else is fading and tired? Phals!

All my phaldren (or all my childraenopses?), sans a few problem children described further below

Any windowsill in New York and New Jersey can be home to a supermarket phalaenopsis hybrid. They can tolerate all kinds of bumbling and learning pains, as long as you (1) remember to water them now and then, (2) don’t drown them by mistake, and (3) don’t cook them in hours of direct sunlight. Miss Orchid Girl offers a comprehensive playlist of videos for beginners, especially on phalaenopsis care, if you want to take a deeper dive—especially if you get to the point of wanting to repot. Phals are uniquely beautiful, with blossoms that evoke butterflies and strings of huge jewels and blushing, pudgy-cheeked elves, incredibly varied in color and size. And if your supermarket phal dies, you can lay it peacefully to rest and get another one at Wegman’s, Whole Foods, Home Depot . . . almost anywhere.

Clockwise from the top left: my Wegman’s mini phals, both purchased in 2021; the white one with the purple lip, top center, was nearly lost to crown rot. It only bloomed again this year. The purple veined one, top right, is dear to me, the first orchid to steal my heart. It’s always given me double spikes, so far. Bottom right are unidentified mini hybrids from the Garden Shoppe in West Palm Beach, Florida. The blushing beauty on the left is delicately fragrant! Bottom left is a supermarket mini phal I call “Gavin,” for the young man I got it from; he was afraid he’d kill it.

More challenging are the species and polychilos hybrids that prefer more light, warmth, and humidity than we can offer in a New York winter, but if you discover you have a knack for phals it might be worth trying your hand at one of the more exotic varieties.

Three pics of a phal from my collection that has an actual name: Lioulin Orange Star “Sweetheart.” The blossom is undeniably fine and beautifully complex, the arrangement of blooms on the spike symmetrical and graceful. It requires no special care except for a brief cool-down (two weeks with nighttime temps at sixty degrees Fahrenheit or so) in the winter.

I’m having only moderate luck with the “named” phals: my Lioulin Orange Star “Sweetheart,” above, is doing beautifully, but my Ambonosa cross and my Chia E Yenlin only give me one flower at a time before falling asleep for months, and my schilleriana, which came to me with leaf damage and half-rotted roots, is still sulking, refusing to even give me a new leaf. Maybe it’s just building a proper root system.

Two of the problem phaldren: Ambonosa Young Ho x Venosa and Chia E Yenlin. (Missing is the schilleriana, too unsightly to photograph.)

But, should you discover a deeper, more expansive love for orchids, and find yourself ready to “graduate” from supermarket phals to summer-loving cattleyas and oncidiums, or to huge, vigorous cymbidiums, or to those sweet little tolumnias that thrive in a teacup . . . Don’t forget your phals! They will be patiently waiting for you next winter with an abundance of those darling round blooms of many, many colors.

My supermarket phals in 2021. The two on the right were lost to rot—that’s one reason I love the purple one so much. It is the Phal Who Lived.

Some resources for nursery phalaenopses:

I got the Lioulin cross from Norman’s Orchids in California; the Ambonosa cross and the schilleriana are also from Norman. My only caveat would be that the schilleriana came to me with a badly damaged leaf, planted in moss that was old and wet enough that most of the roots were waterlogged and had to be cut; hence its dramatic setback. They did not respond to my request for advice, so I’m not providing their link. (They’re easy enough to find, anyway.)

The Chia E Yenlin is from Little Brook Orchids in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. I got that one in person, on a field trip. They have lovely greenhouses, most of which you can explore, and they were very helpful with helping me select the best plants.

There’s a pretty big show coming up in Philadelphia: the Southeastern Pennsylvania Orchid Society’s international show. I think it will be impressive! The New Jersey shows I’ve been to (Deep Cut and North Jersey societies) have been great places to buy a much wider variety of plants than you’ll find in your typical New York / New Jersey neighborhood. Nothing compares with seeing the plants in person, as opposed to surfing grower sites on the internet. The growers are knowledgeable and, with other orchid shoppers, you’re also in very knowledgeable company; your excitement for the blooms is warmly reflected back at you. The displays, put together with so much love and pride, are inspiring and will surprise you, in terms of what is possible in the Northeast United States.

And the New York Botanical Garden sells orchids during their show, which goes through April 21, 2024. I got some nice orchids from their shop last year, most of which rebloomed recently (and none have died!). Their prices are reasonable, considering you don’t have to go far for something on the more exotic side.

I don’t know whether I’ll make it to Philly, but I’m planning on the NYBG on the weekend before it closes, followed by a good, homey pasta dinner in the Bronx. The gnocchi I enjoyed after last year’s show at Bella Notte were some of the best I’ve ever had, in or out of Italy. I never wrote about that trip, which involved a wheelchair that I shared with two elders, but maybe those memories will emerge when I gather my thoughts about this year’s show.