The Persimmon Tree

One of my fondest memories from my childhood is walking down the hill with my mother hand-in-hand from our old yellow farm house to eat persimmons.  It was always late September before they were ripe and after we'd eaten the fruit we would crack open the seeds to see what kind of winter we would have.  

If there was a little white spoon in the center of the seed, it meant shovels full of snow.  If, on the other hand, it looked like a little white knife it meant a sharp cold winter, but dry.  Was it accurate?  Who cares, it was fun.

By the time winter rolled around, I'd long since forgotten the fruit forecast, but I did look forward to it each year.  I remember loving the way a ripe persimmon tasted, its purplish flesh mushing into my mouth all sweetness and sunshine.  

I also remember the joy it gave us if one of us happened to get an unripe persimmon.  If you've never tasted that gritty-bitterness, words will not do it justice.  It is powerful and long lasting and inexplicable, but hilarious to watch all the contortions is puts on the face of the eater. 

I haven't had persimmons in years, but this year, I couldn't help but notice the myriad of trees all along my daily route and all heavily laden with fruit this year.  

It's my third year here and I haven't noticed this much fruit in years past; it makes me wonder what it says about the weather that's on the way.  

Regardless, I'm preparing for the worst—lots of snow and ice and long days indoors—and I decided that it would be nice on those cold winter days to have some persimmon butter to spread on freshly baked bread with butter.  

Maybe even homemade butter as we've found a local dairy that will sell us fresh milk directly and we can skim the cream off the top and make our own butter, yogurt, and even a fresh farmer's cheese.  Maybe I'm biting off more than I can chew with these culinary projects, but there's something so satisfying about gathering and preparing my own food from scratch.

This morning was overcast with heavy gray clouds threatening torrential rain which never materialized.  Since the kiddos were already settled in at school and nothing else was demanding my attention, I decided to go out and pick some persimmons.  I've been waiting for just the right occasion to wear this Unicorn Peta dress from Collectif.  

I'm such a fan of all their dresses, but the Peta dress has rapidly become a favorite style and when you add a unicorn and hedge hog print to the mix, I simply can't resist.  Persimmon picking seems like the perfect dose of daily magic to bring out a magic infused print like this.

After I filled my basket, I headed home to wash all this delicious fruit and start making persimmon butter and maybe, just maybe I set aside a few slightly green ones to let my loved ones try when they come home.

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