Confession

Every autumn, when persimmon fruit make an appearance in my weekly veg box, my heart sinks.

I love getting a box of seasonal fruit and veg delivered to the door each week. I don’t know where I’d be without it. It makes life easy, allows us to eat in tune with the seasons and cut down on packaging.

Might I be so bold to say that I was an earlier adopter and had ruddy cardboard boxes brimming with muddy veg direct from a farm delivered to my digs when I was away at uni yonks ago, much to the amusement (putting it nicely) of my housemates.

Now, that was back when swapping and switching boxes and box contents wasn’t an option. There were no clever websites or handy apps allowing you to swap out things you didn’t like or didn’t want. Put simply, back then, in the early days, you got whatever was in season and, quite often, you got it in abundance. One term, in my third year, I ate so much broccoli that it took me several years after graduating before I could touch the bushy brassica again. No joke.

Thankfully those days are gone. Two decades on and I am still a veg box fan and veg box companies for years now have done a brilliant job of providing customers with an endless rotation of interesting and inviting fruit and veg varieties. However, if there’s one item that I just can’t get excited about, it’s the persimmon fruit. Or, the sharon fruit, as it’s sometimes known.

It’s that time of year again and I’ve just spotted four of them, lurking, in this week’s box, behind some beautifully easy and familiar bananas, which we’ll guzzles within a day or so. They are sitting close to the apples, almost as if they know, or can read my mind. They are trying to convince me that they too are as easy to rinse and chomp into as a Gala.

I could see if my neighbour’s friend, Debbie, who lives around the corner and who eats every conceivable fruit and veg going (apart from onions, they don’t agree with her) would be interested in giving them a forever home? I could conveniently forget about them at the back of the fridge, until it’s too late? No, I can’t do that.

I’ve decided. This year is going to be different. Persimmon, you’re up.

If you Google persimmon fruit (granted, you probably have better things to do with your time) you’ll find hundreds, thousands even, of pages gushing about how delicious and sweet this little orange autumn fruit is. I start to scout around for ideas. I come across a spiced persimmon pudding, which could be good, with custard, but involves nearly four hours steaming time. Perhaps a caramelised persimmon and apple cake, given there’s not one veg, fruit or, dare I say, food stuff, that doesn’t work well in cake form. But I’m looking for something easy. Something quick that I don’t have to invest too much time in. Afterall, I don’t know yet whether the investment will pay off.

Finally, I find it. An idea for a super simple galette – a rustic and informal open tart that I can rustle up in 30 mins and serve later with a good dollop of thick cream. Perfect.

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