In a magical time known as the 1970’s, a young ghost grew up in a small suburb where the Central Valley of California began to give way to the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains. It’s all McMansions now, but back then, there were cattle ranches and egg farms and other agriculture nearby. One of the locals grew walnuts and persimmons, and every year, in late October, he would come to our little working-class subdivision and sell his crop door-to-door. And every year, my mother would buy a big paper shopping bag full of walnuts (three guesses as to who was “asked” to “help” with the shelling) and a buttload of persimmons. The walnuts would get used in many things, including [fanfare] Great-Grandma Selia’s (aka Nanny) persimmon cookies. For me, it’s not autumn until the first batch of persimmon cookies gets made.
There are basically two types of persimmons: astringent and non-astringent. There are several varieties of each, but the two I’ve always seen most are the hachiya (astringent) and the fuyu (non-astringent). Hachiyas are the ones I knew growing up, and are in the title pic.
Hachiyas can be dried, or eaten raw, but more often, they’re used in baking (yes, I swear I’ll get to Nanny’s cookie recipe). They need to be soft, however, in order not to taste bitter. Keep a close eye on them—they can easily go from ‘almost ripe’ to ‘too far gone’ if you don’t. The skin of hachiyas is technically edible, but I don’t recommend it. The best way to get at a hachiya is to use a sharp serrated knife to cut out the stem, cut it into four pieces, then either peel the skin off, or scrape the pulp off the skin with a spoon or butter knife. Warning: it’ll be messy, but it is totally worth it! I should also note that you can freeze the pulp, which I like to do, since persimmon season doesn’t last long. I recently bought and pulped a bunch of hachiyas, used some, and froze the rest.
Fuyus, by contrast, are much easier to deal with. They don’t need to become super soft like Hachiyas, although, like all fruit, they do need to ripen; barely soft is my recommendation, although some people eat them when they’re hard. Unlike hachiyas, the skin of the fuyu is totally edible, and doesn’t require removal. Thus, you can eat a fuyu like an apple—no core, just a stem. Also, the oranger, the better with fuyus. If they’re yellow, they’re generally not as flavorful—like when stone fruit gets picked too early.
Persimmons are very big in Asia, which may explain why they’re so common in California, which had a heavy population of Japanese farmers before WWII, and has had a large Chinese population since the Gold Rush. So I have no idea if they’re common elsewhere, what varieties are available, and most of all—how much they cost.
My Great-Grandma Selia was born as Grover Cleveland’s second presidency was winding down. She married a farmer at 22 and lived in the same small town in the Central Valley of California her entire adult life. She was in her mid-70’s when I was born and unfortunately, I had only just matured enough to truly appreciate her when she left us. It wasn’t until many years later that I got her persimmon cookie recipe from my mom and started making them myself. Childhood memories resonate so strongly, and the foods that we loved or that comforted us then will often be favorites for life (like Marcel ‘Snooze-fest’ Proust and his damn madeleines—the ‘inspiration’ for this diary’s title). I have never shared this recipe with anyone (except Mrs. Spectre, of course), but to not share it, and let it die out, would be a disservice. Happiness is best when shared with others.
PERSIMMON COOKIES
1 c sugar
1/2 c butter
1 c (Hachiya) persimmon pulp
1 c chopped nuts
1 c raisins
1 egg
2 c flour
1 t baking soda
1 t baking powder
1/4 t salt
1/2 t cinnamon
1/4 t cloves
Cream sugar, butter; stir in egg; stir in persimmon, nuts, raisins; blend in flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, cloves; drop onto cookie sheet; bake 20 minutes at 350 degrees.
Fuyu persimmons are excellent in salads. Here’s one that I’ve done a few times. It’s delightfully simple and tasty.
PERSIMMON SALAD WITH PROSCIUTTO AND WALNUTS
1/2 c chopped walnuts
Mixed baby greens
Fuyu persimmon
Balsamic vinaigrette
Prosciutto, sliced into strips
Toss baby greens and walnuts. Slice persimmon into small segments; add to salad. Top each serving with prosciutto strips.
I thought I had a recipe for persimmon bread, but I can not seem to locate it. If I find it, I’ll post it as a comment in a future WFD.
Cheers, everyone!