Persimmons

A late autumn fruit, bright orange persimmons are just showing up in the market. A perfect, ripe persimmon is now one of my all time favorite fruits. It is best served fresh and juicy and has a rich, sweet flavor with nuances of hazelnuts.

It took me a while to understand persimmons. Like all too many commercial fruits, it shows up in supermarket produce sections severely under-ripe and without any instructions for its use. The first time I saw one, I brought it home, hard as a rock, cut it in half and took a bit. It was so astringent, it was akin to over steeped tea or a painfully tannic wine. Thinking I may have gotten a bad one or that perhaps it should ripen a bit more, I tried again a few times. Each time I ended up with about the same results. I gave up. But fortunately, I had forgotten one extra persimmon in the fruit bowl. By the time I noticed it, it appeared overripe. It was soft as a baby’s behind and seemed almost like liquid inside. I might have thought it was going bad, except that it smelled so sweet and enticing. I cut it in half, scraping the extremely soft, juicy flesh up with a spoon. It was a revelation! The astringency was gone and the resulting fruit became nectar-like in intensity. So now I understand why people love persimmons!

To enjoy persimmons yourself, look for the bright orange hachiya variety. It is shaped a little like an acorn. The perfect persimmon is a deep rich orange with no trace of yellow or dark brown blotches. If the persimmon is ripe (an unlikely case in most supermarket produce sections), it will be almost meltingly soft. More likely, you’ll have to bring it home and ripen it yourself. You can speed the process by putting the persimmon in a paper bag with an apple or bananna. You’ll probably want to ripen several at a time. It’s hard to stop once you’ve had a really good one!

To serve, simply cut it in half and provide a spoon. Scoop up the soft, runny flesh and enjoy! You don’t eat the skin.