At first glance it looked like a squatty orange tomato, except the leaves were all wrong and it was living next to the apples and pears.  When I picked it up I realized it was much too firm to be a tomato.  I sniffed…nothing.  I was intrigued.

The imposter tomato turned out to be a Fuyu Persimmon grown locally in Pauma Valley, California.  Being a persimmon newbie, I wasn’t sure what qualities to look for so I will admit I chose based on looks.

I was pretty sure it was a fruit, based on its location in the store, but it looked about as interesting as an ornamental squash.  Basically…pretty, but not a thrill in the taste department.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Fuyu persimmons are native to China, although they were cultivated and brought to popularity in Japan.  In the U.S. they are primarily grown in California.  Once they take on their bright orange color they are safe to eat right out of your hand.  Fuyus are edible while they are still firm, and will continue to sweeten as they soften.  Other persimmons, such as Hachiya, are so astringent that they need to be softened to a pudding-like consistency before they are ripe enough to eat.

For my first taste, I wanted to stick to tradition and eat it firm and raw at room temperature.  I cut it in half to see what was inside.  It had a light orange flesh that was slightly speckled, and fairly thin skin.  There were no visible seeds, and other than the leafy bits at the top, nothing that was an obvious “don’t eat me” section, so I took a bite.  Despite the lack of scent, the Fuyu had a pleasant, delicate sweetness, with a slightly creamy “melt in your mouth” quality.  It was not very juicy, and therefore, not very sticky.  I ate it with my fingers.

A few days later, after deciding to experiment with a persimmon/lentil curry, I discovered that my one of my remaining persimmons had gone from firm to squishy.  At first I thought I had bruised it, or that I had chosen a rotten one, but then I realized that I had accidentally ripened it by setting it next to the apples on my counter.  Upon cutting it I saw the texture had gone from firm to almost gelatinous, but I didn’t see any signs of decay.  Truth be told I was a little afraid, but I forced myself to take a taste.  I dug out a little of the gooey flesh with a spoon and tentatively held it to the tip of my tongue.  It was still sweet and delicious.  I used the squishy persimmon in the sauce, and I added bite-sized pieces of a firm persimmon to the lentils.  I’m still working on the spices, but the concept is definitely worth further experimentation.

Here is a recipe for a Pomegranate Persimmon Dinner Salad that worked well.   It was inspired by Recipe Zarr #264107.