A persimmon Tiramisù
For all those who don't like persimmons.
Persimmons are the eggplants of fruits.
Lots of people despise persimmons because probably, at some point in their life, they have had a bad experience with them.
If they’re unripe, biting into a persimmon will leave your mouth with a very unpleasant astringent sensation and no flavor at all. When ripe, they should have a soft, spoonable texture and a super-sweet flavor.
They don’t get ripe on the tree though, they require another step after harvest and a few extra days of patience to get them perfectly soft and edible.
I learned from my grandmother how to ripen them. Around November and December she would keep a large pot on her kitchen counter, covered with a lid, where she stored persimmons and apples. As she would explain it, persimmons needed darkness and apples to ripen.
Although I’ve never questioned her way of doing it, I now know that apples, as well as bananas, give off ethilene gas that speeds the ripening process of other fruits, but I’m not sure that darkness is necessary. I could probably achieve the same results by placing the two fruits in a plastic bag, but honestly I like to keep this tradition.
Persimmon trees, or cachi in Italian, which is actually a Japanese word but spelled differently, or diosperi as they are called in Tuscany, are along with citrus and other fruit trees, common in traditional Italian gardens and the reason is mostly aesthetic. In December, when everything is dull and trees have lost all their leaves, persimmon trees are loaded with cheerful, orange fruits, that make them look like Christmas trees.
I absolutely love persimmons. My mother thinks it’s because she was eating several cachi a day towards the end of her pregnancy and I was was born at the beginning of December, in full persimmons season. I also have sweet memories of my maternal grandmother knocking at the door with a couple of bags in her hands asking me to go with her to pick persimmons from a tree in a field nearby because “nobody will pick them!”. She was the queen of frugality and zero-waste before the zero-waste movement was even a thing.
My favorite and almost the only way I love to eat them is in a bowl with a spoon. They are so flavorful and satisfying that you don’t need anything else to go with it. But, I recently bumped into a Persimmon Tiramisù recipe from one of my favorite cookbook authors, Emiko Davies, and I couldn’t not give it a try, especially using persimmons from my own garden.
What I love in Tiramisù is the mascarpone cream and to me the sponge base made with ladyfingers is just an add on, not its essence. So my personal version has alternate layers of pureed persimmons and mascarpone cream and no ladyfingers.
While traditional Tiramisù is made with eggs, I prefer a less egg-y taste so I usually fold whipped cream, instead of egg whites with the mascarpone. Given that there aren’t ladyfingers in this version the result is a very rich spoonable dessert. You don’t need much of it, although it’s hard to stop. The persimmon puree tends to oxidize and go from bright orange to brown if sits in the fridge for too long so I’d suggest eating it on the same day.
Recipe:
Serves 4-6
Ingredients:
8.8 oz of mascarpone cheese
1/2 cup of whipping cream
4 tbs of caster sugar
2 egg yolks
3 very ripe persimmons
Method:
In a bowl whisk the mascarpone, egg yolks and sugar using a hand mixer (or a free stand mixer) until well combined. In a separate bowl whip the cream until it has nice soft peaks. Gently fold the whipped cream with the mascarpone mixture. Set it aside.
Wash the persimmons and remove the stalks. With the skin on, place them in a high speed blender or food processor and blitz until you have a nice smooth orange puree.
In a nice glass (I use martini glasses) place a tablespoon of the persimmon puree then one of mascarpone mixture and repeat. It’s quite a rich dessert so 2 layers each are plenty.
Let it rest in the fridge for 4 hours to set before serving.
.