I’ve been eating a couple of persimmons a day – another of the odd pleasures of a Catskill autumn. The American persimmon (Diospyros virginiana) is native only about as far north as Staten Island – where they are relatively common, though I’m not sure they occur anywhere else in New York City. But they are cold-hardy throughout most of the Catskills, and the variety “Meader” (which I’ve been eating) is self-fertile. One tree produces a very nice supply of persimmons in the autumn – my source is Catskill Native Nursery, where a small tree (ca. 6″ diameter) is producing quite well. I shake the tree before going home and pick the fruit off the ground.
They look rotten, but they are ripe.
The fruit is unusual in that no fruit tastes worse when it is unripe – it has the awful quality known as “astringency” which makes the inside of my mouth hate being alive – you can’t even swallow the pulp, it’s so bad. And it is still unripe when it looks ripe – it will be orange and firm and very nice-looking, but utterly inedible. It’s not until the fruit looks like it’s rotting – the skin withers and the flesh becomes a translucent red – that it’s actually ripe and edible. But then it’s actually quite nice, and a completely different flavor from any other fruit. The fruits are small – 2″ in diameter typically – so eating a couple every day is quite easy.
This year has just been superb for fruits of all sorts. There’s something new to eat pretty much every day.
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