Jim Casada photo
Persimmons
The unusual characteristics of the persimmon, along with its widespread presence in Southern Appalachia, have long made it a prime contender for mountain folklore and folkways.
Like the American holly, persimmons have distinctive sexual identities, and only “she” persimmons bear fruit.
Old-timers often checked persimmon seeds—much like they observed the location of hornet nests, thickness of corn shucks, or the coloration and stripes of woolly worms—as a means of predicting winter weather. When a seed is cut open, it contains a kernel-like image in its middle. A spoon shape meant lots of wet, heavy snow; a knife shape indicated biting, icy winds and bitter weather; a fork shape signified sparse snow and a mild winter.
From a more practical standpoint, the dense wood of the slow-growing tree was sometimes used to fashion a wedge for splitting firewood, and until modern times the woods used by golfers featured heads made of persimmon. A craftsman with sufficient patience could carve a well-seasoned chunk of persimmon into a highly effective turkey call in the form of either a box call or suction yelper. Persimmons were also of interest to hunters in another regard, because all sorts of game animals—deer, bear, ’coons, and ’possums—consumed the fruits once they fell to the ground in late fall. Indeed, sportsmen sometimes referred to ripe persimmons as “animal candy.”
The fruit likewise figured prominently in a traditional mountain diet. To be sure, many country cousins hazed their city-slicker brethren with an introduction to the persimmon that was anything but a treat, for the lovely orange globes are incredibly astringent until fully ripe. Unknowing folks would be encouraged to take a bite and then would spend the next five minutes trying to rid themselves of the taste. Biting into one produces an immediate, unwelcome understanding of the phrase “pucker power.”
Once persimmons ripen, though, a magical transformation occurs. The soft fruit provides a sweet, sticky treat with overtones of honey. Delicious eaten raw, persimmons can also be dried and preserved as fruit leather, used to make a mead-like beer, or best of all, to form the key ingredient of breads and puddings, such as the recipe at left.
Tip: Asian persimmons taste every bit as good, are far larger than their wild cousins, lack seeds, and sometimes can be found seasonally in grocery stores.
Smoky Mountain Persimmon Bread
You will need:
- 2 brimming cups of persimmon pulp (fruits should be squishy ripe; incidentally, pulp freezes well)
- 3 ½ cups flour
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 2 teaspoons baking soda
- pinch (half a teaspoon or so) nutmeg or allspice
- 2 cups sugar (brown or refined sugar)
- 1 cup (2 sticks) melted butter (cool to room temperature)
- 4 large eggs, lightly whisked
- 2 cups pecans or English walnuts, chopped and lightly toasted
- 2 cups dried fruit such as apricots, raisins, yellow raisins, or dates
- 2/3 cup bourbon (a cheap brand is fine)
To make:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter a pair of loaf pans or use non-stick pans. Sift flour, salt, spice, soda, and sugar into a large plastic mixing bowl. Whisk in the butter, eggs, bourbon, and persimmon pulp until thoroughly mixed. Add and whisk in nuts and dried fruit. Place batter in pans and slide into oven. Check periodically as bread begins to brown by inserting a toothpick. When it comes out clean the bread is ready. Cooking time varies depending on configuration of pans used.
NOTE: Once cooled, wrap to keep moist. The bread will keep several days (but likely be eaten much sooner), and it freezes well.