mons in their markets for fifty cents 
apiece. In recent years, Diospyros 
kaki has established a foothold in U.S. 
groceries as a specialty fruit. With 
a long history as a cultivated plant 
in Asia (especially in Japan, where 
it is more popular than all other fruits 
except citrus and amounts to the na- 
tional fruit), the kaki persimmon has 
been astutely marketed. 
Meanwhile, the native fruit, clearly 
superior, remains misunderstood and 
neglected. Country people who value 
it gather it in the same spirit of wood- 
land foraging that they approach wild 
mushrooms. And they have preserved 
the dozens of recipes developed for 
D. virginiana in earlier times. Bear 
Wallow Books (P.O. Box 579, Nash- 
ville, Indiana 47448) publishes a 
cookbook completely devoted to the 
various persimmon cakes, puddings, 
breads, cookies, pies, salads, ice 
creams, and candies that Hoosiers 
have traditionally prepared. 
Early settlers in Pennsylvania made 
persimmon wine. In Virginia and 
Maryland, they distilled persimmon 
brandy. As a girl in Freetown, Vir- 
ginia, Edna Lewis helped to make per- 
simmon beer. In The Taste of Country 
Cooking , she recalls: 
We would pick over all that we had gath- 
ered and then stir them into a medium- 
soft batter made from the bran of white 
cornmeal mixed with spring water. After 
it was all well mixed, we would spoon 
the batter into a large bread pan and 
bake it in the oven. After it had baked 
and cooled, the cake was placed in a 
stone crock or a wooden keg with twice 
as much spring water, then covered and 
left to ferment until Grandfather decided 
it was ready for drinking — usually in late 
winter. 
“Simmon” beer will never replace 
Schlitz. And the American persimmon 
will probably never supplant the ori- 
ental persimmon in American mar- 
kets. D. kaki has an even bigger head 
start over its native rival than Honda 
has over Chrysler’s K cars. But even 
Hirohito would probably agree that 
our persimmon is better than his. This 
isn’t chauvinism, but fact. Anyone 
who needls further convincing can just 
head for Gnaw Bone in the fall. If 
Mrs. Roberts doesn’t have any fudge 
(which is delicious and worth waiting 
a day for), just find a tree and start 
eating. 
Raymond Sokolov is a free-lance 
writer whose special interest is the 
history and preparation of food. 
Adelaide de Menil 
Bear Wallow Persimmon Pudding 
1 egg, lightly beaten 
2 cups persimmon pulp (made by 
pushing ripe fruit through a col- 
ander) 
3/4 cup sugar 
3 cups milk 
2 cups sifted flour 
1/2 teaspoon baking soda 
1 tablespoon butter, cut in small sliv- 
ers 
1/4 teaspoon salt 
1/2 teaspoon vanilla 
1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. 
2. Stir the egg into the pulp. Then 
stir in the sugar. 
3. Next, stir in the milk and flour, 
alternating between the two, add- 
ing a half cup or so at a time. 
Beat well. 
4. Dissolve the baking soda in a tea- 
spoon of hot water and beat it into 
the persimmon mixture. Then beat 
in butter. 
5. Pour into a greased 9 by 13 baking 
pan. Bake for 1 to \Vi hours, or 
until dark in color. Four or five 
times during baking, stir mixture 
so that it will not harden at edges 
of pan. (Remove pudding from 
oven each time so as not to lose 
oven heat during stirring.) 
Yield: 8 to 10 servings 
Jeffrey Steingarten’s Persimmon Ice Cream 
1 cup milk 
3/4 cup sugar 
Juice of 1 large lemon 
114-11/2 cups persimmon pulp 
2 cups heavy cream (avoid ultra pas- 
teurized cream if at all possible) 
1. Scald milk. Stir in sugar until dis- 
solved. Cool to room temperature. 
2. Stir lemon juice and pulp into milk 
mixture. Then stir in cream. Cor- 
rect taste if necessary by adding 
more lemon juice. 
3. Chill 8 to 10 hours or overnight, 
if possible. 
4. Freeze in an ice cream freezer. 
Yield: 5 to 6 cups 
106 
