Have you ever had persimmons? Do you like them?
The first time I tried them I was in Big Sur, CA. They were divine. So ripe, sweet and juicy. They really have a distinct taste so if you’ve never had one before, you’re in for quite an experience. However, you’ve got to make certain that they are ripe. If not, they will impart a strong astringency that lingers and may make you never want to try one again. Considered yourself warned.
Remembering back when I had my first unripe persimmon, I made sure not to touch these until they were ready. But these two persimmons had been sitting on my counter top for weeks now and still, they weren’t softening. What gives? I thought. So I did a quick internet search to see if there was a way to expedite the ripening process – like when you place bananas in a brown paper bag. (Oddly enough, the paper bag method actually hastens ripening). What I found was that there are 2 common types of persimmons here in the states:
- Hachiya. These are flat and squatty looking, and don’t get overly soft when ripe. They are commonly sliced, peeled and used in salads.
- Fuyu. These have a more oval, robust shape and get super squishy when ripe. This is what I was waiting for.
But I had a Hachiya, so I was waiting for nothing. I immediately sliced one open and took a bite. The texture was somewhere in between a pear and an apple. It wasn’t very juicy but it did have that deep, round flavor I had remembered. I’m not sure that round is technically a flavor adjective but maybe you’ll see what I mean when you try one. I wanted to know what else I could do with these persimmons; roast them maybe? Back to Google. I found a recipe from Martha Stewart that really caught my attention: Broiled Persimmons with Marscapone
I didn’t have any marscapone but I did have this awesome Greek yogurt. And not just any Greek yogurt. Cabot’s Greek yogurt. Their plain Greek yogurt is truly unique. It doesn’t have that overpowering tangy sourness. Rather, it’s a subtle tang with a noticeable hint of cheese flavor; cream cheese maybe. It’s absolutely wonderful. Topped with a drizzle of honey and I knew it would pair perfectly with the persimmons.
Enter the comedic encounter with my oven.
Time to broil my persimmon. I turned my oven to broil, sliced my persimmon in half, placed it on a baking pan, and slid it into the oven. Broiling is a rather quick process – typically no more than a few minutes or you risk burning your food to a crisp. So after a few minutes I took a peek to see how it was going. No browning. The fruit was softening, but no sign that actual broiling was occurring. I looked on the roof of the oven to see if maybe the coils weren’t working, and low and behold…
there were no damn coils. It’s not a broiler.
How can you place a “Broil” setting on an oven knob when the damn oven doesn’t even broil??? I haven’t asked my landlord about this yet. I imagine this issue wouldn’t be a top priority for him so maybe I won’t say anything at all. I’ll just leave a note on the oven for the next tenants.
So anyway, my desired Broiled Persimmon with Marscapone turned into a Roasted Persimmon with Honeyed Greek Yogurt. And that is so ok because persimmons this way, are amazing.
Roasted Persimmons with Lime & Honeyed Greek Yogurt
1 Persimmon (any kind)
1/3 cup Plain Cabot Greek Yogurt
1 TBS honey
Juice from 1 lime wedge
cinnamon to taste
Roast (or broil, if you have a fancy broiling oven) your halved persimmons in the oven at 400 for 12-15 minutes. While roasting, mix together Cabot Greek Plain yogurt, honey and 2 hearty dashes of cinnamon. Serve the persimmon and yogurt together, squeezing the lime over both. Enjoy. It’s lovely.
Update: Probably the most comedic part of this post is my new update; the fact that my oven DOES have a broiler and that I wasn’t smart enough to figure it out. My parents came to visit me one weekend and while I was explaining the whole broiler situation my mom stopped me in my tracks to tell me that my oven does indeed have a broiler. It is in the bottom drawer.
Uhhhhh…..really? We no longer store our baking sheets in that bottom drawer. No wonder why they always got so hot…