Pitiless Persimmon Bread

by Janice on January 6, 2013

Apparently my tolerance for self-initiated pity parties is less than a few hours. Later in the afternoon of my last post, I went into the kitchen to bake. Because when you are a baker, that’s what you do to get out of a funk, even if you can barely stand up.

So I had to remain seated to measure and stir, but I did it. I was not going to let a little heart failure get in the way of using up some persimmon puree I had struggled to make the previous day from fruit we’d received in our winter CSA basket. (For the record, persimmon puree is very easy to make; I only struggled because I was ill.) And I remembered to be grateful that I was well enough to get out of bed at all.

If you are lucky enough to have some gorgeous Hachiya persimmons sitting around ripening, this quick bread is an easy boozy way to use them up. But don’t even dare think about using them unless they are so squishy-ripe that they almost fall apart in your hands. If you use them before they are perfectly ripe, you will be punished by the fruit-gods with a most excruciatingly astringent experience.

I used to know someone with several Hachiya persimmon trees up in Sonoma County. And every year, at Christmastime, I would go to her house and pick up several trays of ripening persimmons. (I know, how spoiled was I?) My favorite way to use them then was to very carefully slice them into thin rounds (much more difficult with the ripe fruit than making puree) and put them into my dehydrator for a while. The resulting sweetly exotic chewy stickiness completely ruined me for life. All other dried fruit is, well, simply dried fruit.

The dehydrator is long gone, and Sonoma County is now a bit of a drive away, but my appreciation for the brilliant orange fruit of late fall and early winter hasn’t waned. Just as many other things in my life, it’s merely been adapted to fit current circumstances.

p.s. I am doing better. SO much better that the doctors are baffled. I’m about 40 to 50% of normal on good days, and 25% the rest of the time, which is pretty good for someone who was spiraling downward faster than could be believed! I believe it is the combination of love from you all, rest, prayer, and medicine, and it’s okay if the doctors can’t explain it. I’m supposed to be back in the hospital on Tuesday for more tests, but won’t know for sure until tomorrow – they’re assessing the risks vs. the value of doing the tests. Thank you so much for all the love, prayers, and encouragement!

 

Persimmon Quick Bread (Dairy-Free)

Make sure you use Hachiya persimmons, and not the shorter, squat Fuyu persimmons.

Makes 2 9-inch loaves

Adapted (made dairy-free) from David Lebovitz’s adaptation of James Beard’s Persimmon Bread recipe* in Beard on Bread.

3½ cups flour
1½ teaspoons salt
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2½ cups sugar**
1 cup light-colored/mild olive oil, plus extra for coating pans
4 large eggs, at room temperature, lightly beaten
2/3 cup whiskey
2 cups persimmon puree (approximately 4 almost mushy-soft Hachiya persimmons)***
2 cups chopped walnuts
2 cups diced dates

* This basic recipe is infinitely useful. Have 2 cups of applesauce sitting around? Use applesauce instead of the persimmon puree, sub raisins for the dates, throw in cinnamon rather than nutmeg, and use brandy for the whiskey. Need to use up 2 cups of winter squash or pumpkin puree? Go ahead! I usually throw in some cinnamon, ginger, and a tiny amount of cloves when I use pumpkin, and swap pecans for the walnuts. Make up your own favorite combo and tell us about it.

**To make persimmon puree, gently cut the tops off of squishy-ripe Hachiya persimmons. Carefully scoop out the pulp. Blend in a blender until smooth, or process in a food processor until smooth. I actually used an immersion blender, because I was too tired to get out the larger appliances, and it worked fine.

***I used 2 cups white sugar and ½ cup packed brown sugar, because I ran out of white sugar – you learn to adapt when you have limited energy for grocery stores runs!

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Coat the insides of two 9×5 loaf pans with a small amount of olive oil or use an oil spray. Dust pans with flour and tap out excess.

Sift the first 5 dry ingredients into a large mixing bowl.

Make a well in the center, then stir in the oil, eggs, whiskey, persimmon puree. Add the nuts and dates, stirring just enough to incorporate them.

Pour 1/2 the batter into each prepared pan. Bake 1 hour or until toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Remove from pans and cool on a baking rack. Wrap well. The bread keeps getting better for a couple of days, and then I slice and freeze mine for a quick treat on hectic days (which I hope I’ll have again some day!).

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Heartache

by Janice on December 28, 2012

At our house, we’re buying blankets and robes as if our very lives depended on it. Unfortunately, fabric layers can’t quell the internal chill of uncertainty. I toss a travel magazine in the recycle bin, unread, for the first time, ever, not wanting to rub salt in my wounds.

Everything’s different, but I’m still here.

We passed surreal a couple of weeks ago, when none of us was sure I would live until Christmas. Blood pressure monitors, pill bottles, and echocardiograms transformed into holy implements for new lifesaving rituals.

Food became the last thing I cared about, yet it too changed. My new religion counts every milligram of sodium, every drop of liquid, and both are evil. Friends bring groceries, hugs, and questions for which I have no answer.

I dream of crumpled origami ravens attempting to fly across the open sky. Not a sugarplum in sight.

A complicated experimental open-heart surgery is proposed at one of the finest medical facilities in the country, but is deemed too dangerous. Where that leaves me is anybody’s guess. It’s the end of the year and a new pill has stabilized me for now, so the doctor’s gone on holiday.

I have heart failure. At 52.

The woman who never sat down, exercised like an athlete, ate like a bird. Whose heart has a fatal flaw.

And yes, of course, I’m lucky to be alive. Each day is a gift. Given my heart defect, I’m a walking miracle. I know.

But right now, I’m huddled in my new robe, wrapped in a blanket, exhausted from a very short walk I took yesterday. Looking up at the grey winter sky, hoping against hope that crumpled origami ravens can still fly.

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Spring Scallions

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Sunday Morning Scones

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Hearts Behaving Badly

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I just wanted to drop in and let you know that I haven’t completely disappeared. And that I’m not just off having too much fun without you. No, not at all. It’s been a strange time in my life, and it continues to get even stranger. While summer has sidled in, and the backyard roses [...]

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