Persimmons

I know if I ever had any regular visitors, I've probably lost them by now. So sorry for my 2-week absence from blogging. It wasn't intentional. I just have been entirely swamped with my new job and my old job. Tonight is the first night I've decided to just ignore the dishes and the 15 pages of interview notes that need transcribing and just sit down and blog. And boy do I have a lot of things I've been storing up for The Moody Foodie. Take persimmons for example. I bought these lovely little tomato-looking fruits on our Korean grocery shopping trip two weeks ago. This picture is almost as old. If you've never had a persimmon, it's like a cross between a cantaloupe and a peach with the slipperyness of a concord grape. There's no discernable seeds, but you must remove the peel, which is slightly thicker than tomato skin. The cute, cartoon-like leaves also must be cut or pulled off.

The first time I ever ate persimmon was 7 years ago when I lived in California. I was staying with a family who welcomed me into their home and cupboards. One highlight of my visit was a tea party complete with fancy china and homemade scones. But I'm digressing. In the cupboard was a huge ziplock bag of sliced and dehydrated persimmons and figs. My mouth fell in love. I found myself visiting that ziplock bag frequently. I now know how expensive dehydrated persimmons can be and feel bad for plundering their store. Walworth family, if you ever read this, please know that week of recuperation was one of the fonder memories of my year in SoCal.