What ARE those things? Persimmons

Persimmons are one of those fruits that people don't know a lot about, and I blame agricultural distributors for that. And also cookbook writers. You see them just about now in East Coast markets: dull orange colored, either tear dropped shaped, or round, like apples, with a big "star" in the center from where they grew on the tree. Occasionally, you'll see another variety called a chocolate persimmon, that is very small and has big black seeds in it. When it's ripe, it's got brown spots, like pock marks all over it.

Persimmons do not appear to be very promising as fruit. Usually, you find them rock hard, when they are essentially as inedible as a quince. Bite into one, and you'll wish you didn't. They are so full of tannin, you'll feel like you just drank the dregs from a bottle of good red wine. If they're ripe - and there are varieties that MUST be "drop dead" ripe to be edible - they are so soft that they will literally squish in your hand. Good for eating, terrible for storing and selling: if you have something so soft that it will "moosh" when it's touch, what do you do? Think about it: when you buy bananas, even if you like them black and soft and ripe, do you buy them that way? No, you buy them firmer, and let them ripen at home. And that is how you should buy persimmons if you want to try them, unless you're willing to lose some of them on the way home as they bump into each other and turn to goo.

I used to buy them that way. In fact, one "grocery store moment" I will always remember came about seven years ago. It was after work, and I was buying produce for the weekend. There was a big box of very, VERY soft persimmons: five for a dollar. I grabbed ten, and the manager looked at me and said "take another five, I don't want them." Uh, twist my arm. And I went into this reverie thinking "you know, if I had a restaurant, I would now ask him how much he wanted for ALL of them, t ake them back to the shop and make a special dessert." I did that anyway, but it was only for a few people.

Thoughts of persimmons this morning because of chatting with my friend Gary over a "persimmon pudding" I made last night. I could say LOTS about Gary and embarrass him silly and I may do that one day anyway, so let me justs say that Gary knows his produce. And his flowers. And anything that grows. Show him the plant, and he'll say "oh, that's..... You got it from....." And he'll be right. Gary knows I basically live by "local and seasonal," so when he heard that the dessert was persimmon , his question was "where did you get them at this time of year?" See, persimmons on the EAST coast are a fruit that needs a hard frost to be edible. It seems to be the frost that puts down the tannins and of course, frozen, thawed fruit is always soft. We haven't had that, yet, so "where did you get those" was a logical question.

I got them from the citrus folks, Kim, Sandra and Eric. I got an email one day saying "the persimmons are in, we just sent you a box." And given their generosity, this was NOT a box of six or seven fruit. Uh uh. Probably closer to 25 pounds.

I love using persimmons in salad, and we had the "triple P" salad of pomegranates (also from the gang), persimons and pistachio nuts, and then the pudding.

Guy does a bakesale for his Chorus as a fundraiser. They had their last one before their holiday concert last night, so he wanted to do an "eat free" night. Given my southern Italian love of excess, I said "let's do it big." So we did. And persimmon pudding was one of the things we brought.

"Pudding" is deceptive in this context. This is really a cake. I guess it's there because in England, "pudding" is a dessert, and the British DO know something about persimmons.

The recipe is adapted from Lindsey Shere's incredible "Chez Panisse Desserts," with my usual modification. I left some things out, and changed the cooking time. But it DOES take a while. It's a cake to make when you're going to be home for a while: like during persimmon season when it's cold and nasty outside. This is a real delight. You can eat it plain, like I do, or put some vanilla ice cream with it, or whipped cream. It takes very well to spirits too. Flavor the whipped cream with brandy, or pour some over the ice cream, or just sip it while you're eating it. It's GREAT

You need a pound and a half of persimmons. Make sure you have the variety that does not need to be soft to eat, or if you do, that they're soft. And if you have more than a pound and a half, that's ok, too. Cut the tops off, and then cut the fruit into pieces. Puree them in a food processor (this is a recipe where , unfortunately, I think you do need a processor. I don't know how you would do this without one). Put it aside. (Ms. Shere tells us to peel them. I didn't and it wasn't a problem). Put them aside, and then mix in a bowl 1.25 cups of flour , a pinch of salt, a teaspoon of baking powder, a teaspoon of cinnamon, and put that aside .

Now, mix together 3/4 cups of sugar, 3 large eggs, and EITHER two cups of milk or 1.5 of milk and .5 of cream (light or heavy, your choice). Add the persimmon pulp to t his, then pour the whole thing into the flour mixture, and stir it to combine it. (Ms. Shere suggests letting this sit for a while to thicken, but I didn't see a need. She also toasts walnuts and combines them with butter, which I've left out, because many people won't eat the nuts. Also, she has left out a lot of spices so that you taste the persimmon. I fully agree with this approach, and leave out the nuts as well).

Pour this mixture into a buttered springform pan (9 inches is a good size), and then stand it on a baking sheet. Put it into a preheated, 350 oven and let it bake for 2 hours (in the original, it calls for 2-3 hours. I think that more than 2 would probably burn the thing to death, but use your judgement. If it's "just jiggly" at the center, after two hours, you're done).

The cake is an example of "plain is pretty" It's dark brown, and it's solid, but when you unmold it, and put it on a plate and start thinking about "what does it need?" the answer is NOTHING. Just leave it as it is. No powdered sugar, no candied violets, NOTHING. And you don't have to refrigerate it.

Yes, it's best warm, but room temperature will do just fine, too, and it's so satisfying, you will serve a LOT of people with it, and have leftovers, which you will be glad to have.

And in making this, especially in the fall, you will be connecting with the past. Keep in mind that, before transport was available, in the winter, this was one of the few sweets that were available.

This is really one of my favorite cakes to make, and persimmons are one of my favorite ingredients to play with. I hope you'll search them out and try it