Recipe #211: Poached Persimmons
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Doesn't this photo just make you want to reach out & pluck
this hachiya persimmon right off the tree? ;) |
There are several kinds of
persimmon trees, but only a few bear edible fruit. :) The two most common types commercially sold in the US are the
fuyu and the
hachiya. You can distinguish between the two different kinds by their shape, color, & taste: When ripe, the
fuyu is a medium orange color & shaped a lot like a tomato (i.e., plump & squat) while the
hachiya is a deeper shade of orange, elongated, & shaped like an acorn (except it's a lot larger!). The former has an astringent taste due to its high level of soluble
tannins that will lessen as the fruit matures, while the latter is still astringent-tasting but is far less tart when ripe. The
fuyu still contains tannins but has a lot less of them. Also, during the ripening process, the
fuyu's tannins will disappear a lot faster than the
hachiya's
.
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| Ripe hachiya persimmons. |
Both kinds take a
long time to ripen, but the
hachiya takes even longer. Case in point: The hachiyas I bought
this October JUST became ripe. :) It's now December 9th!
And, I was even keeping them in the refrigerator, which is supposed to hasten their ripening. Well so much for
that technique. ;) What I more recently discovered is that tossing them in the freezer for a minimum of 24 hours will speed up the ripening process even faster. Freezing breaks down the cellular membranes (i.e., the cell walls) of the fruit & also mellows out their astringent flavor. (Dehydration also has similar effects.) I already knew that freezing lemons & limes makes them easier to juice for the same exact reason, but it was certainly news to me that you could ripen persimmons this ways as well. A neat little trick, eh?!
Also, persimmons can be ripened by either exposing them to light or placing them in a paper bag, both of which hasten ethylene production. (Ethylene is a chemical by-product that's released as fruit ripen.)
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| Unripe fuyu persimmons. |
When it doubt, it's best to give a persimmon more time, rather than less, to ripen. Why is this, you might ask? Well, persimmons are seriously unpalatable if eaten prematurely, i.e., before fully ripened. And trust me, you don't want to eat a persimmon before it's ready to eat, particularly the
hachiya. Those who eat an unripened persimmon won't soon forget the experience. ;) Basically, your entire mouth will turn into a puckering hot mess, and will suddenly feel like it's become a pile of chalk. And what's even weirder is that it'll feel like something is sticking to the insides of your mouth, although you won't actually be able to find anything there. ;) It's completely maddening. The exact sensation veers on the indescribable. The tongue and mouth just feel incredibly odd. Like they've suddenly grown a coat of fur. Believe me, it's NOT pleasant. And not even washing your mouth out with a glass of water will get rid of the sensation. You just have to sit there and be patient, waiting for the feeling to fade. Kind of like an intensely hot chili pepper, it just spreads over your entire mouth and lingers until it fully absorbs into the walls of your mouth and throat.
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| Unripe hachiya persimmons. |
However, when persimmons have ripened, it's almost like you're eating an entirely different fruit. :) Like quince and the Nashi bear, the persimmon must first be allowed to
blet, that is, to become incredibly overripe, before it's consumed. This bletting process is what makes the persimmon taste so incredibly flavorful.
I'll admit that before I knew what I was doing, I really DETESTED persimmons and thought them to be one of the most unpleasant foods on the planet, aside from maybe chopped chicken livers, tongue, and tripe. ;) One or two tremendously bad experiences and that did it. I'd soured on them indefinitely. Pun intended. :) In fact, I would've gladly eaten a thousand overcooked, dry & mushy lima beans before I'd have thought that I'd willingly touch another persimmon ever again. Of course, this was primarily due to the fact that, back then, I didn't know
very much anything about how to select them. I had absolutely no idea when they'd reached their optimum level of ripeness, or that they'd be so unpleasant to eat before they'd achieved this state. Had I known that they'd taste completely differently in their ripened state (i.e., delectable!), I might've given them a second chance a lot sooner. Lesson learned. :)
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| Fuyu, just another name for persimmon. ;) |
In fact, the only reason I tried a persimmon again is that I didn't realize what a
fuyu actually was until I'd already brought it back home from the international grocery store. ;) They didn't specifically label them as persimmons; the sign just simply declared that they were
fuyus, and I'd clearly had no idea what they were when I'd picked them from the produce bin. I told you I was an adventurous eater. :)
I'll often buy stuff from the international market that I have absolutely
no clue how to use. (I trust that I'll just figure it out later, when I get home!). Or, if it's a fruit or a vegetable I've never encountered before, I'll most certainly try it without any knowledge whatsoever. What can I say, I'm the Russian roulette queen of produce. :) So let's spin the wheel and see what we get....
Of course, when I bit into the unripe
fuyu I thought to myself, "Wait, this kind of tastes like a persimmon. Huh, that's weird." ;) And then, "Blech!" ;) Just like I'd remembered it. Chalky and mouth-puckeringly sour as hell. And then after some internet research, I realized, "Ohhhhh, it
was a persimmon." Doh.
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| What fuyus look like on the inside. |
Likewise, a lot of people say they have monstrous initial experiences with persimmons, and after one of two of my own bad experiences, I can see why. A little education on this subject is immeasurably useful. :) Of course, I'm not really surprised. They just did what I did: They just assumed you could eat it as it was, after it appeared to soften just a bit, with no discernible consequences. ;)
What, you mean I will rue the day I ever ate an unripe persimmon?! Psssshaw! Sometimes we have to learn the hard way. When it comes to a persimmon, a little patience goes a long way. :)
While the
fuyu can be eaten as soon as they become slightly soft, I honestly prefer them when they become a little bit riper, verging on extremely soft & gooey. Many people like them when they are still firm, but to me, they still taste chalky & way too fibrous at this stage. They are commonly eaten raw. When ripe,
fuyus have a mild, sweet and tart flavor. They have black seeds, which should be removed before consumption. Just pick them out as you encounter them.
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| A hachiya that's been cut in half. |
Hachiya persimmons have to be eaten when they are really, really soft, almost gushingly so. They are much tarter than
fuyus and must be eaten only when they are overripe. Otherwise, they have that extremely bitter, chalky taste that I was warning you about earlier. However, overripe
hachiyas are another matter altogether; they are incredibly soft and silky and taste like heaven. Unlike the somewhat fibrous texture of the
fuyu, an overripe
hachiya's pulp is smooth and almost liquified. They are commonly thought of as "baking" persimmons, although you can eat them raw as well. They are usually peeled & pureed into a pulp before they are incorporated into baked goods. If you can't tell, I prefer the
hachiyas. :) I love eating them raw. The gooier the better!
People seem to be very divided in their opinion between the two kinds. A lot of people seem to prefer the
fuyus for some reason, although I'm not as big of a fan of them, particularly in their raw form. However, when they're baked, they taste really good. Since the hachiya takes a lot longer to ripen, more patience is required, but in my opinion, it's well worth the wait. :)
I've added both kinds into the below recipe to give it a balance between tart & sweet. And, if you've never tasted a persimmon before, it'll give you a chance to taste both kinds. :-D
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| Sugar & spice, and everything nice, finished off with a wicked little kick in the pants. :) Ka-POW! |
Poached Persimmons
Ingredients:
1 c.
bletted (i.e., overripe) hachiya persimmons, hulled, seeded, peeled, & quartered (about 2 persimmons)
1 c.
bletted i.e., overripe) fuyu persimmons, hulled, seeded, peeled, & quartered (about 2 persimmons)
2 c. orange juice
3/4 c.
Cointreau
1/2 tsp. pure vanilla extract
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp. ground aniseed
1/2 tsp. ground ginger
1/4 tsp. ground clove
1/4 tsp. ground cardamom
1/8 - 1/4 tsp. ground cayenne pepper, according to individual heat preference
4 c. water, added as necessary (optional)
2 Tbsp. freshly squeezed lime juice
Directions: In a large and very deep sauté pan, combine the persimmons, orange juice,
Cointreau, vanilla extract, & all spices. Bring the liquid to a boil, stirring occasionally. Then turn down heat to medium, cover, & simmer until tender, which, depending on the state of your ripened persimmons (i.e., soft, firm, etc.) could take anywhere from 20 minutes to an hour. ;) If persimmons need to cook a bit longer, add water, one cup at a time as the liquid cooks down, to prolong their cooking while keeping them from burning on the bottom. Reduce liquid to about half of its original volume. When persimmons are soft, remove pan from heat & stir in lime juice, blending well. Divide up fruit wedges into equal portions, & transfer with a slotted spoon to individual porcelain ramekins. Pour remaining syrup (from the pan) over top of each serving. Serve warm or chilled over ice cream or pudding (like peach melba).
Yield: Serves 3-4.
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| A bowl of hachiyas also make a pretty centerpiece. |
Chef's Notes: IMPORTANT - Be absolutely sure that the persimmons, especially the
hachiya, are overripe, well past the point of soft. When you peel the
hachiya, they should be gooey and oozing all over your hands. Yes, believe it or not, this is actually their most desirable, optimum state, in terms of taste. Otherwise, if you eat a persimmon before it's fully bletted, trust me, you're never going to want to eat another persimmon again. ;) As mentioned above, they will leave your mouth in a state of pervasive, chalky-tasting distress that can't even be eradicated with a glass of water. Believe me, before I truly knew what I was doing, I'd sampled
both the
hachiya & the
fuyu before they were ripe, and let me tell you, I won't ever do THAT again. :) Yuck. However, when they're ripe, they're beyond fantastic. There's a reason they're likened to ambrosia.
1 comment:
I have been making this recipe for years and I am always amazed with the new addition and the twists.
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