Three black kittens line up outside the sliding screen door of Diana Rayhill’s home just south of the center of town. Maybe they want a break from the cool air outside, or to get away from the hammering going on in the back yard as Diana’s husband, Gary, gets an early start on the Christmas lawn decorations.
It could be they are curious about the smells coming from the dessert Rayhill is preparing at the kitchen table. But her persimmon pudding is not really up these cats’ alley; in fact, the little-known, regional dish is unfamiliar to most people around the country.
Never tried it either? That puts you in the majority, unless, of course, you’re from this part of southern Indiana, so close to the Kentucky border that local news stations refer to the area as “Kentuckiana.”
Mitchell is the self-proclaimed heart of persimmon territory; just look at the persimmon painted on the side of the town water tower as proudly as a Georgia peach. Every fall since 1946, the chamber of commerce has staged a Persimmon Festival with horse-shoe competitions, gospel music, the crowning a Persimmon Queen, of course, and a persimmon recipe contest. The contest belonged to Diana Rayhill this year. She won blue ribbons in both the pudding and novelty categories (the latter for her persimmon chiffon tart) made with fruit fallen from the trees in her own yard and a neighbor’s yard. From a smooth, squat fruit with a skin that’s burnished orange when ripe, persimmon pulp comes out sweet and creamy, with the slight graininess of a date. The pudding–in the British sense of the word, more like a baked dessert–cooks into a purplish, shimmying custard that’s shored up with just enough flour to keep the consistency from resembling creme brule.
Rayhill has been making the pudding since she and Gary were married in 1970. “My grandmother used to make it and just pour cream over the slices,” she says, but Rayhill’s preference is for whipped cream.
For some, a little cream might be the most identifiable thing on the plate. It doesn’t help that persimmon pudding recipes can range from Rayhill’s custard concoction to a super-sticky quick bread from Mitchell-based persimmon pulp seller Dymple Green, to a bundt-type steamed cake recently served at the Hudson Club restaurant in Chicago.
Unlike Asian persimmons, which tend to be eaten fresh, native persimmons are usually baked into puddings, pies and breads, or mixed into ice cream. The Cherokee Indians were among the earliest noted bakers of the sweet loaves, which they served to the first Europeans, according to Joseph E. Dabney in his new book, “Smokehouse Ham, Spoonbread and Scuppernong Wine” (Cumberland House, $27.95). The fruit was also dried and pressed into bricks to eat throughout the winter. But it’s the Algonquin Indians who are credited with our name for the fruit, from their word, putchamin or pasiminan or pessamin, depending on the dialect. Native persimmons, Diospyros virginiana, are small and seedy, with a highly tannic skin and flesh that can be quite unpleasant when eaten too early.
Raymond Sokolov, in his book about traditional American foods, “Fading Feast,” quotes Captain John Smith as saying, “If it not be ripe, it will drawe a man’s mouth awrie with much torment; but when it is ripe, it is delicious as an Apricock.”
Or as Diana Rayhill puts it: “Heaven help you if you get an unripe one. Your tongue feels like it has fur on it.” Gary Rayhill demonstrates this by taking a bite of a persimmon not quite at its prime. With drawn-up eyebrows and a sour look, he says: “Very puckery.”
These little persimmons grow wild in parts of the Midwest, Oklahoma and Texas, east to Appalachia, and as far south as Florida. Explorer Hernando De Soto encountered them in Florida in 1539, Sokolov writes. Settlers quickly learned not to eat them until after the first frost, when they had ripened and fallen from the tree. During the economic hard times of the Civil War and Reconstruction years, Dabney writes, some households made a coffee substitute by boiling persimmon seeds. The fermented fruit also has been used to make beer in some areas of Appalachia.
Native persimmons now are cultivated, but not widely, according to Bruce Bordelon, a horticulture specialist with Purdue University. The trees tend to grow on small farms and are considered a specialty, or heritage, crop. The practice of growing native persimmons is “not dying out,” Bordelon says. “But it sure hasn’t grown any.”
On the 100 acres of persimmons on Dymple Green’s farm, there is a grove near the house that has been there since Green, 70-something, was a girl. She used to freeze pints of persimmon pulp to sell back in her college days; local folks bought it for pudding and ice cream-making. Thirty years ago, with her husband, Vernon, Green made a business of it, freezing, canning and shipping persimmon pulp (“to a lot of displaced Hoosiers in Florida,” she says) out of an unused pony barn on the farm.
The businesswoman, with a silver beehive hairdo and soft, pleasant voice, is giving up canning this year as too much trouble; she and Vernon will continue to freeze the pulp in the tidy work building decorated with newspaper clippings about the business and a thank-you note from customer Dan Quayle.
“Indiana is limestone country,” Green says. “Maybe that’s what makes the persimmons here taste better. If you look at the winning (persimmon pudding) recipes year after year, you’ll see they look mostly the same. So I say it’s not the cook, it’s not the recipe; it’s the pulp that makes a difference.”
What most consumers find in stores, when available at all, is the Asian Diospyros kaki persimmon, native to China and cultivated primarily in Japan. These Japanese persimmons, a variety known as Hachiya, have a more pronounced acorn shape and smoother, brighter orange skin than Midwestern persimmons. In the U.S., they are grown mostly in California. Another Asian persimmon is the Fuyu, with a red-orange skin and tomato shape. Both are seedless; the Fuyu gets points for being much less astringent and edible even when crisp.
Folklore has it that the seeds of native persimmons have a role to play, as Gary Rayhill shows by splitting one of the mahogany seeds in half with a sharp paring knife. He points to the opaque interior with its distinctively shaped marking.
“It can resemble either a knife, a fork, or a spoon,” he says. The knife shape indicates a winter of bitter cold; the fork, a mild winter; a spoon, plenty of snow.
“This one’s a spoon,” he pronounces.
For the record, spoons have been plentiful in seeds this fall.
PURCHASING PERSIMMONS
Native persimmons may not be easy to find, except at farm stands or certain orchards. Imported or California-grown Asian persimmons may be substituted for the native fruit; they’re sold at many supermarkets and ethnic stores.
To turn fresh persimmons into pulp for recipes, pour boiling water over a bowl of stemmed fruit. Let stand about 2 minutes, then drain and run through a food mill.
Persimmons are sold in fall and winter. Hachiya, the most common variety, must be allowed to ripen until very soft before eating. They can be ripened by placing them in a paper bag with a banana or apple, Elizabeth Schneider says in her book “Uncommon Fruits and Vegetables.” Fuyu persimmons may be eaten when still crisp.
Fruit that is too ripe may be frozen. Cut a tiny piece off the pointed tip of the persimmon, wrap the fruit tightly and freeze up to 3 months.
To purchase canned or frozen pulp by mail from Dymple’s Delight, call 812-849-3487. Or write Dymple’s Delight, Route 4, Box 53, Mitchell, Ind. 47446. Price: $2.50 a pint plus shipping.
PRIZE-WINNING PERSIMMON PUDDING
Preparation time: 20 minutes
Cooking time: 1 hour
Yield: 10 servings
Serve this dense pudding with vanilla ice cream, if you like. From Diana Rayhill, winner of the 1998 Mitchell Persimmon Festival recipe contest.
1 1/2 cups buttermilk
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 large eggs, beaten
2 cups each: persimmon pulp, sugar
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup evaporated milk
6 tablespoons butter, melted
1. Heat oven to 350 degrees. Stir together buttermilk and baking soda in small bowl until foaming; set aside.
2. Mix eggs, persimmon pulp and sugar in large bowl. Add buttermilk; stir well. Sift together flour, baking powder, cinnamon and salt. Gradually add flour mixture to persimmon mixture until blended. Stir in evaporated milk.
3. Grease 13- by 9-inch baking pan with 1 tablespoon of the melted butter. Pour remaining butter into batter; mix. Pour batter into buttered pan. Bake until set, about 1 hour. Allow to cool 5 minutes before serving. Cut into squares.
Nutrition information per serving:
Calories ………… 380 Fat ………… 9 g Saturated fat .. 4.9 g
% calories from fat .. 20 Cholesterol .. 65 mg Sodium …….. 335 mg
Carbohydrates …… 73 g Protein …….. 5 g Fiber ………. 2.3 g
INDIANA-STYLE PERSIMMON PUDDING
Preparation time: 15 minutes
Cooking time: 50 minutes
Yield: 18 servings
The recipe for this chewy, moist cake is adapted from Dymple Green of Mitchell, Ind.
2 large eggs
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
2 cups persimmon pulp
1 cup each: buttermilk, granulated sugar, packed brown sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon each: baking soda, ground cinnamon, ground allspice
1/2 teaspoon salt
Sweetened whipped cream, optional
1. Heat oven to 350 degrees. Stir together all ingredients in large bowl just until smooth. Pour into 2 greased 9- by 9-inch baking pans or one 13- by 9-inch pan.
2. Bake until wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean, about 50 minutes. Cool 15 minutes. Cut into squares; serve with whipped cream, if desired.
Nutrition information per serving:
Calories ……….. 195 Fat ………… 1 g Saturated fat .. 0.3 g
% calories from fat .. 4 Cholesterol .. 25 mg Sodium …….. 240 mg
Carbohydrates ….. 65 g Protein …….. 5 g Fiber ………. 3.2 g
STEAMED PERSIMMON PUDDING
Preparation time: 25 minutes
Cooking time: 2 hours
Yield: 12 servings
This festive cake, from pastry chef Jeanne Kraus of Hudson Club, Chicago, gets an extra kick from brandy and spices.
1 1/2 cups golden raisins
3/4 cup milk
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
3 large eggs
1 cup sugar
2 1/2 cups persimmon pulp
1 1/2 cups soft white bread crumbs
3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) butter, melted
Zest of 1 orange
1/4 cup brandy
Whipped cream, optional
1. Heat oven to 350 degrees. Combine raisins and milk in small saucepan; heat to boil. Remove from heat. Cover pan; let raisins plump 10 minutes.
2. Sift together flour, baking powder, cinnamon, salt, ginger and nutmeg in medium bowl; set aside.
3. Beat eggs and sugar in bowl of electric mixer until thick and light colored, about 3 minutes. Beat in persimmon pulp, bread crumbs, butter and orange zest. Add flour mixture. Mix just until blended. Stir in raisins and brandy by hand.
4. Pour into greased 8- to 10-cup mold. Cover tightly with aluminum foil; place mold in roasting pan. Pour boiling water into pan to reach part way up sides of mold. Bake until firm and pulls away from sides of mold, about 2 hours. Cool in mold 10 minutes; turn out onto wire rack. Serve with whipped cream, if desired.
Nutrition information per serving:
Calories ………… 385 Fat ………… 14 g Saturated fat .. 8 g
% calories from fat .. 31 Cholesterol … 85 mg Sodium …… 420 mg
Carbohydrates ……. 5 g Protein …….. 65 g Fiber …….. 3.2 g
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SERIES SCHEDULE
Gulf: Key lime pie
Southeast: Carolina barbecue
Mid-Atlantic: Shoofly pie
Mountain and Pacific: Cobb salad
Southwest: Indian fry bread (and) Chicken-fried steak
The nation: Thanksgiving classics
Midwest and central: Persimmon pudding
UPCOMING
Mountain and Pacific: Baked salmon
New England: Clam chowder
Midwest and central: Toasted ravioli
Gulf: Oyster poor-boys
