I have a little problem. I'm addicted to cookbooks, food writing, recipe collecting, and cooking. I have a lot of recipes waiting for me to try them, and ideas from articles, tv, and restaurants often lead to new dishes. I started losing track of what I've done. So now I'm taking photos and writing about what I've prepared—unless it's terrible in which case I forget it ever happened.
It couldn’t have been better coordinated. Just after reading about persimmons in the latest issue of Edible Austin, we received persimmons in our CSA. A persimmon bundt cake with Italian cream cheese frosting was mentioned along with a salad with toasted walnuts and a persimmon flan. Everything sounded delicious and I’m hanging on to that bundt cake recipe, but I immediately zeroed in on the persimmon martini with fresh ginger, lemon, and a vanilla bean. The cocktail recipe was written with a juicer in mind, and I don’t own one. I pureed the persimmon flesh with lemon juice and grated ginger rather than juicing them. However you do it, the flavors will be fantastic. This cocktail is perfectly suited to the fall season, and I’m already thinking of other ways to combine these well-matched ingredients.
I started by scooping the very ripe flesh from four persimmons and picking out the seeds. That went into a food processor with lemon juice, freshly grated ginger, seeds scraped from half a vanilla bean, and a little honey. It was processed until smooth, and then it was stirred with ice and vodka in a cocktail pitcher until well chilled. The ice was strained as the martinis were poured into glasses. If you use a juicer, your fruit mixture will be thinner and should work fine in a cocktail shaker. I learned the hard way that my puree didn’t pour well through the shaker’s strainer. Hence, I transferred it to a pitcher. Once in glasses, the martinis were garnished with half a vanilla bean.
The vanilla warms up the persimmon flavor, and the ginger and lemon add zing. As soon as I tasted this concoction, I imagined it would make a delicious sorbet or maybe a pudding. Or, I might simmer it until it’s thickened and pour it over ice cream. Maybe I should mix a few more martinis and see what other ideas come to mind.
I’m repeating myself from almost exactly one year ago. Last October, I made a pumpkin flan, and this year, I’ve made one with persimmons. It couldn’t be helped. There was a big table of persimmons at the farmers’ market, and I had to bring some home. Then, I found this recipe for persimmon flan in Potager which is a book devoted to cooking seasonally. I think of flan in the same way I think of souffles. They both seem a little daunting because it seems like things could go horribly wrong, but in the end, they’re actually very easy and almost never fail.
The persimmons were peeled, seeded, chopped, and briefly cooked before being pureed. The puree was pushed through a strainer to make it very smooth. Although the recipe was very straightforward in that just plain persimmon puree was to be added, I had to introduce a little something extra. To the puree, I added a pinch or two of nutmeg and cinnamon. As usual for flan, sugar was caramelized in a small cake pan and then set aside. The custard was made from six eggs, milk, cream, sugar, vanilla, and a bit of salt. The persimmon puree was stirred into the custard, and the custard was poured onto the caramelized sugar in the cake pan. It was baked at 325 degrees F in a bain-marie with water coming halfway up the side of the cake pan. The recipe noted it should bake for about 45 minutes, but mine required a few more minutes before it was set in the middle.
The flan was removed from the roasting pan with water and left to cool on a rack, and then it was unmolded onto a plate. That’s the scary part, but just like last time, it popped out without any problems. The remaining caramel in the pan was then pooled onto the inverted flan. I have to admit the caramel is the real reason I like flan so much, but the custard was delicious too. The persimmon flavor was mild, but by adding fruit, the custard is prevented from tasting too much of egg. Next time, I might add a larger pinch of cinnamon, but I’m not complaining about the results here at all. I should really consider making flan more often than once each October, but at this rate, it has been a special, appreciated dessert each time.
Have I mentioned the greens I’ve been cooking? I have. More than once? Well, then, I’ll just mention one more meal involving them this week. Thankfully they’re delicious in addition to being healthy, and they have inspired some creativity in my kitchen. Supplied with a big bag of cute and peppery tatsoi leaves, I had a couple of ideas. I thought they would make a good side for a simply seared salmon fillet, and I imagined some sweet persimmon slices would provide a nice flavor and color contrast. Then, I decided to make things just a tad more complicated.
In my head, I pictured the salmon fillet resting atop a thick sauce with a light and leafy composition on top with a garnish of persimmon slices. So, I thought back to a recent experience with broccoli rabe pesto, and decided to try a tatsoi, pecan pesto minus the cheese. To start, I blanched about four cups of the tatsoi leaves by placing them in a sieve, lowering the sieve into boiling water for one minute, and then moving it immediately into a bowl of ice water. The leaves were then squeezed to remove as much water as possible. Blanched leaves were placed in the blender with about a half cup of pecans, a tablespoon of lemon juice, and half a cup of olive oil. This was pureed and seasoned with salt and pepper. I left the bowl near the stove for it to keep warm while the salmon was prepared.
Wild Coho salmon fillets were seasoned and quickly cooked on the stovetop. I made a lemon and rice vinegar vinaigrette with shallots and dijon, and tossed a handful or two of fresh tatsoi leaves in it. I also cut some daikon into matchsticks and tossed them in the vinaigrette with the tatsoi. The tatsoi puree was pooled onto the center of the plate and received the salmon. The leaf and daikon combination was set onto the salmon, and then, persimmon slices found their place.
This was one of the quickest meals I’ve prepared lately. I kept looking around the kitchen thinking I’d forgotten something. It was a somewhat light and very nice meal. The vinaigrette and the oil in the puree added just enough richness to the greens. The blanched, pureed greens had less pepperiness than the fresh leaves which made for a good balance. And, the persimmons brightened up the plate literally and figuratively. Their flavor was outstanding with the salmon, and all the components together behaved exactly as I’d hoped. The daikon added nice crunch but wasn’t entirely necessary. If I were to make this again and couldn’t get tatsoi, arugula would work very well.
which is a book devoted to cooking seasonally. I think of flan in the same way I think of souffles. They both seem a little daunting because it seems like things could go horribly wrong, but in the end, they’re actually very easy and almost never fail.
The flan was removed from the roasting pan with water and left to cool on a rack, and then it was unmolded onto a plate. That’s the scary part, but just like last time, it popped out without any problems. The remaining caramel in the pan was then pooled onto the inverted flan. I have to admit the caramel is the real reason I like flan so much, but the custard was delicious too. The persimmon flavor was mild, but by adding fruit, the custard is prevented from tasting too much of egg. Next time, I might add a larger pinch of cinnamon, but I’m not complaining about the results here at all. I should really consider making flan more often than once each October, but at this rate, it has been a special, appreciated dessert each time.
Wild Coho salmon fillets were seasoned and quickly cooked on the stovetop. I made a lemon and rice vinegar vinaigrette with shallots and dijon, and tossed a handful or two of fresh tatsoi leaves in it. I also cut some daikon into matchsticks and tossed them in the vinaigrette with the tatsoi. The tatsoi puree was pooled onto the center of the plate and received the salmon. The leaf and daikon combination was set onto the salmon, and then, persimmon slices found their place.