Persimmon Pleasure

When I was a child, my aunt used to bring a few persimmons every year.  I was the only one that liked them, I think, and I would wait anxiously for them to get ripe, then spoon out the soft flesh and enjoy it.

Recently I spotted a persimmon in the grocery store. It was nice and orange, firm and unblemished, so I bought it.

Now, you can't just buy a persimmon and eat it.  The secret is in the waiting. If you eat it too soon it makes your mouth pucker, which may be why so many people don't like persimmons.

I put that persimmon on my kitchen window sill and watched it for days as it slowly turned red.  One side turned much more slowly than the other side, but finally it was entirely red.

At this point, the persimmon is squishy.  It shouldn't be wrinkled, just red and squishy, like it has jello inside.  When mine was perfect, I put it on a plate and cut into it.  I scooped out the jelly and ate it straight.  You don't have to make jelly out of a persimmon; it does it for you.

To persuade my husband to eat it, I put a bit of the jelly on a rice cracker.  The sesame flavor was a bit strong, so I put a bit on a piece of Rice Chex.  That was so good, I continued to eat my persimmon on Rice Chex.  A delicious treat!

I don't think husband liked it very well; he politely ate some and then disappeared to "something I have to do"  and agreed that I could enjoy the rest.

I finished off that persimmon today, taking pleasure in the jelly and the soft, papaya-textured center.  Another successful food adventure, entirely gluten-dairy-sugar free.


My only regret is that I didn't take a picture before I ate it.  If you don't know what a persimmon is, you can Google or Bing or Yahoo or however you like to search.