David Lebovitz: Persimmon Bread Recipe

Like most Americans, I've discovered that French people also aren't so familiar with persimmons either. They see them at the market, but don't stop to buy any. Or if they do, they take them home, bite into an unripe one, make a face, and toss 'em out.

In my former life as a Californian (...although my French friends tell me I'm definately Parisian since I've become a râleur, or complainer), one of my friends living north of San Francisco in Sonoma County had a enormous persimmon tree. Each fall, the leaves would drift off the tree, leaving bright orange globes of fruit dangling off the sparse branches. The beautiful, gnarled wood was quite a contrast to the smooth, brilliantly-colored orbs of fruit. (The wood of the persimmon tree is not just beautiful but it's prized by makers of many of the finest golf clubs in the world and is considered superior to most others woods or man-made materials.)

The most common persimmon you're likely to find is the Hachiya, a slightly elongated fruit that tapers to a point. They're incredibly tannic and astringent when not ripe and need to be squishy-soft and feel like a full water-balloon before using, or you'll be sorry. Once ripe, the sweet jelly-like pulp can be spooned out and pureed through a blender, food processor, or food mill, although some folks like to eat it as is or frozen. The pulp freezes beautifully, and in fact, I'll often freeze some for mid-winter use (you can also freeze the entire ripe fruit as well just as it is, but they tend to roll out of the freezer and land on your foot which kind of hurts...so I don't recommend it.)

To ripen a Hachiya persimmon, simply let it sit on your countertop until supersoft. You can hasten the process by putting persimmons in a well-sealed container; adding an apple, which give off a lot of ethyline gas, will speed things up.

The other common persimmon is the Fuyu, which is more squat than the Hachiya and matte-orange. Unlike the Hachiya, the Fuyu is meant to be eaten hard and is delightfully crunchy. I peel them, then mix pieces into an autumnal fruit salad along with dates, slices of Comice pears, pomegranate seeds and yes...even some bits of prunes!

If you're lucky, you might come across a variety called a Chocolate persimmon, which has deep-brown skin and russet-like flesh. I've only seen them at Monterey Market in Berkeley.

Finding recipes for using persimmons can be difficult.
I invented a recipe for a quick Persimmon Cake for my book Room For Dessert, which I make often for Thanksgiving. And I also like James Beard's Persimmon Bread, a nifty recipe from his classic book on breadmaking, Beard on Bread, published over 30 years ago.

I was fortunate to meet James Beard several times when he came to dinner at Chez Panisse. In the years after he passed away, we'd get all sorts of celebrity chefs breezing through our kitchen. Many of them were hyped, media-created hotshot superchefs who i never found as interesting as people like James Beard, Jane Grigson, and Richard Olney, who were really wonderful writers (who actually wrote their own books!) Nowadays none of them would have a successful culinary career; none had a nice rack, or teams of PR reps in tow.

The most charming thing about this Persimmon Bread recipe is that Beard gives bakers an inexact amount of an ingredient: sugar.
Of course, no cookbook author could get away with that today. Home cooks are used to Martha -style perfection and terrified they're going to screw things up if they improvise.
So go ahead just this one time to improvise a little, use diced apricots instead of raisins, why not some hazelnuts instead of walnuts? Although I recommend using the higher amount of sugar, feel free to use whichever quantity you'd like...after all, you have permission from the granddaddy of all cooks, James Beard himself.

Using the higher amount of sugar will produce a moister and, of course, sweeter bread.

3½ cups sifted flour
1½ teaspoons salt
2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 to 2½ cups sugar
1 cup melted unsalted butter and cooled to room temperature
4 large eggs, at room temperature, lightly beaten
2/3 cup cognac, bourbon or whisky
2 cups persimmon puree (from about 4 squishy-soft Hachiya persimmons)
2 cups walnuts or pecans, toasted and chopped
2 cups raisins, or diced dried fruits (I used some apricots and dates too)

Butter 2 loaf pans. Line the bottoms with a piece of parchment paper or dust with flour and tap out any excess.

Make a well in the center then stir in the butter, eggs, liquor, persimmon puree then the nuts and raisins.

Thank you! I bought persimmons recently to make a persimmon salsa and found that they were too soft and pulpy..it just turned into mush. So I tried again and asked for hard ones the second time, and still no luck. I guess I am buying the wrong kind. I was just about to toss them today because I had no idea what to do with these super squishy things, but now you've given me some good ideas. Bless you my friend, you saved my persimmons.

Ohhhhh, that looks good! I am soooooo trying that this weekend.

Funny you should have this entry, today. On the front page of the university newspaper (or the local paper, I didn't pay attention) is an article about the upcoming persimmon festival in the next town.

I remember my grandparents used to have a persimmon tree in their backyard, but alas! I no longer live close enough to drive over and get some.

So, to the festival I go! That, paired with the annual post-Halloween Pumpkin Launch (wherein all of the local catapult and trebuchet enthusiasts come out of hiding), ought to make for quite a Saturday.

oh, YUM. I've had an eye on your persimmon cake for a long while and was planning on making it for the holidays this year, but this bread could nudge it out of the running!

All this talk of Chez Panisse and the Monterey Market make me miss home so much! If only I wasn't stuck in Rhode Island where markets' idea of local produce is apples.

I usually just spend the Fall eating Fuyus like apples and skipping the Hachiyas, but this bread looks wonderful! Have you ever tried adding candied ginger along with the raisins? For some reason the tastes seem like they would work together. I can't wait to try it and see -- I'll let you know how it goes in my post next Fri.

I do not like persimmons au natural, so since they are everywhere and for free here, I decided this year I am going to come up with a recipe for a hot persimmon souffle'. I have no idea who is going to want to eat the failures along the way. (shrug) But by end of season, it will be.

I really enjoyed what you said about improvising recipes, even for baked goods. There are some rules one needs to follow in baking or the chemistry is all wrong and all your lovely ingredients will be lost to the trashman. BUT experimenting is fun and running out to the market for slivered almonds when there are lovely toasted hazelnuts in the cupboard would be simply wasteful.

Some people do get frightened when not following an exact recipe and I have a tough time attempting to exactify my recipes to post on my blog... and sometimes when I attempt it, I totally screw up! Ah well, Grandmother would have been proud, anyway.

Persimmons are tasty, but you should have mentioned that the tastiest is the american persimmon -- when fully ripe the sugar and nutrient levels exceed the persian date. It is a much smaller fruit than the asian variety. It is not surprising that persimmons were popular in american cooking. The tree grows widely across most of the US. I grew up on a farm in Indiana and have great memories of collecting persimmons in the chicken yard after the first hard frost with my grand- and great-grandmother. Persimmons were then converted into bread, cookies and puddings and always served at Thanxgiving.

Loved this recipe.WE have a lot of persimmons back home in Brazil. I live in England and people are not too sure what to make of them. I will def make the bread.

Your description of persimmons is mighty tempting, but I could never get myself to like them. The hard and soft varieties are staples in Chinese homes. I'll eat them if I HAVE to, but I wouldn't reach for one on my own.

Bonjour! I live in Paris too and the markets are bursting with Kaki (persimmons). I bought 4 ripe ones two days ago and I've just been staring at their orangeness wondering what to do with them. I don't like to eat the Hiyacha types raw (too mushy), I much prefer the Fuyu crunchy type but I haven't been able to find them here. Merci bien for the recipe, I can't wait to try it out!

I planted a persimmon tree in our NW D.C. backyard back in 1999 and finally some of the fruits stayed on the tree long enough to reach maturity. HOORAY! Yield is about 2 dozen HUGE orange fruits in the classical American shape. I picked about 10 last night as the first hard frost was coming up. I ate the single fruit that had already ripened on the tree. It was so soft and ripe I could even eat the skin without consequences! Our two black omnivorous Bombay black kittens loved eating the pulp around the stem end.

So who has a persimmon souffle recipe? There was one in the Washington Post about 20 years ago but I neglected to save it... For the time being I may attempt persimmon pie or jam.

Andrew S.

Thanks so much for this recipe. It was a huge success this past Christmas. At present I am having a difficult time finding persimmons and was wondering if they could be substituted in this recipe for something else? I know it sounds strange because the whole bread is based on the persimmon, but would pumpkin be a good alternative? Any suggestions would be appreciated. Thanks again for this wonderful recipe.

Paula: Perhaps you could try banana puree. That has the same viscosity as persimmon puree. I've never substituted anything in this recipe, but give it a go! BTW: Persimmon puree can be sucessfully frozen (I use yogurt containers, which are exactly one cup!) or you can freeze the entire fruit, as they are...just pop 'em in the freezer.