I Am What I Chew

Only a mother could love this mean little persimmon-eater

This is a story about preconceptions.  When I lived in Indiana, we had a persimmon tree.  Every fall, the tree would produce copious amounts of small orange fruit that the local opossums loved.  (See mug shot at right).  I figured if an ugly, rat-tailed critter like the ‘possum loved persimmons, they were only fit for ugly, rat-tailed critters.

I put them on my “do not send” list when I signed up for “Farm Fresh to You,” a to-your-door organic produce service (more on this wonderment later).

Alas, my request was too late and my shipment arrived with half a dozen persimmons.

Now, my vow is to try any fruit or vegetable put in front of me, but I have to say I was afraid of that ‘possum fruit.  The persimmons of my youth were small, bitter, and hard unfit for human consumption unless laced with 3 pounds of sugar and cooked down to a jelly-like substance.

I found a recipe that used three kinds of fruit, courtesy of my organic farmer friends, and here’s what it looked like.

Winter Fruit Salad

The persimmons, which are hiding under the fuji apples and the satsuma mandarins, are as big as tomatoes and as sweet as peaches.

What a nice surprise.  I may even try brussels sprouts.

Nah.