.About a week ago, Food Blogga wrote about persimmons. I was not inspired to make her Persimmon, Ginger, and Caramel Sundae, because I can see the size of my butt in the mirror. But I was inspired to get a couple of persimmons for eating plain (hey - that's fruit).
.She has a great explanation of the 2 main kinds of persimmon we eat here, fuyu and hachiya. They differ in one eally, really important way. And thank goodness for her post, because when I went over to Fresh Market, all the persimmons (both kinds) were marked as fuyu, but I knew better.
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[Honestly, the produce section at Fresh Market is disappointing. They rarely carry local foods (for instance, this summer they had no local green beans even though local farmers were selling them by the truckload), and they often mis-label things. It's not impressive, especially for an outfit that pretends to compete with Whole Foods.]
.I bought 2, and let them pretty much putrefy, as she suggests. Picking them up feels like holding a water balloon.
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Today I'll try one, and if I've succeeded in getting it good and squishy, it should be quite tasty. If so, I might introduce persimmon to Iain. As Food Blogga points out, persimmons are full of vitamins, so I figure that's useful in this cold, snowy, overcast winter week.
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Other new foods this week include spinach and acorn squash.
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[EDIT: Not that I think I'm influential or anything, but Just In Case: if you buy the kind of persimmon you see above (the tall kind, versus the kind that's shorter and flatter and more light-orange), DO NOT eat it until it's super, super soft. It will taste like Absolute Poo. No joke. And it does this aluminum thing in your mouth that makes you feel like you have a mouthful of pellets of dirt. Seriously. It's awful.
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My friend Hank used to play a family game that went like this:
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H: I know what you are. You're the gum on the bottom of my shoe after I walk through a field of cows who just ate a lot of fiber.
One of his sisters: Oh, yeah? I know what you are. You're the stuff at the bottom of a rain puddle after a parade of elephants who traveled to town on a train that used to carry toxic waste in open buckets.
H: Oh yeah?? I know what you are! You're...you're...YOU'RE AN UN-RIPE PERSIMMON!
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That shows just how bad we're talking. Don't do it.]
[EDIT 2: The household chemist tells me, "the thing about persimmons is alum, not aluminum." Ok, so what's the difference? "Alum is a specific compound namely hydrated aluminum potassium sulfate." Oh, right. Sure. Because I know what that means. Anyway, apparently the disgusting thing it does in your mouth is caused by aluminum, potassium, and sulfur, so that makes it three times as bad if you ask me. I'm coming 'round to Heather's position (not eating anything that has to rot before it's good).]
[EDIT 2: The household chemist tells me, "the thing about persimmons is alum, not aluminum." Ok, so what's the difference? "Alum is a specific compound namely hydrated aluminum potassium sulfate." Oh, right. Sure. Because I know what that means. Anyway, apparently the disgusting thing it does in your mouth is caused by aluminum, potassium, and sulfur, so that makes it three times as bad if you ask me. I'm coming 'round to Heather's position (not eating anything that has to rot before it's good).]
14 comments:
WIN!!!
BAH HAH HAH HAH. that is an awesome game to play with siblings. Is it too late to start with mine?
That's saying a lot, coming from someone who grew up in the original family for making up games.
I think you can still play this game. I think, in fact, that playing this game with your adult siblings might be even more fun. Think of what you could come up with.
I know what you are. You're the residuals from a made-for-tv movie from 1982, starring Burt Reynolds as the mysterious husband who turns out to have a secret past and Sarah Jessica Parker as his terrified step-daughter.
Your turn.
Google is going to pick up this entry and the sales of persimmons is going to go down....
(totally kidding. It's a comedic effect)
I have never tried one, and now, never will. I can't imagine waiting for something to go bad-ish before I eat it.
My grandfather used to have a persimmon tree in his front yard. I always associate them with Halloween, since that's about when they were ripe. But they were the short, fat kind so I didn't have to eat them rotten. (I put that in case Heather thinks I'm gross or something.)
one must not forget the key 'i know what you are' trump cards:
a refrigerator.
a piece of glass.
a bulldozer.
Dude! You've been holding out on me. Never, in almost 20 years, did you tell me about those 3 things.
Now I think I hate you. Also, I know what you are: a piece of broken glass, resting daintily on the top of a steaming pile of seal poo at the (melting) North Pole, a place so cold that even ice cubes freeze, yet not cold enough to sustain polar bears. Or something.
strawberry. with a hint of spice.
Pina colada surprise, dude.
That's your boyfriend.
Of course he is. He's hot.
Meanwhile, I called Miriam a bad name and she has failed to pick up the gauntlet. So disappointing.
not that one. the one passed out on the sidewalk in the cropped mesh shirt.
Why do you think he's passed out? He's tired, dude. I wore him OUT.
And that mesh shirt is part of a role playing thing we do. He's the New Kids on the Block, I'm Tiffany. It works for us.
yeah, i guess pretending to be an entire boy band would wear a man out.
it still doesn't explain those high heels he's wearing.
and tell miriam i know what she is too.
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