A friend of mine sent me a link a week or two ago that I couldn’t ignore. It was for a chocolate persimmon muffin, made with buckwheat flour. Okay, I thought to myself, this is too good to be true. I don’t normally repost recipes that have been made recently by anyone else, but this was a special case. You see, I’ve been telling Andrew I would make him some persimmon bread muffiny thing for, oh, well over a month now. “They need time to soften” has been my excuse time and again, while he gives me long looks of disbelief. “But, it’s been almost two months,” he finally said to me over dinner, the persimmons precariously sitting between us on the table, soft as ever and reminding me of my promise. So I poked one and said “you are right. And they are ready!”. That’s when this recipe popped into my inbox and it was simply meant to be. Thank you, Grace!
The buckwheat flour (one of my all time favorite flours), gives these muffins the perfect, earthy depth. It is a wonderful combination with chocolate—both have deep, rich, and bitter undertones—and something that I had never tried before. It was a wonderful pairing surprise that I want to experiment with more. I also like that these muffins are not too sweet. This means you can actually taste the flavors: nutty buckwheat, bitter chocolate, and tangy persimmon. The thought did cross my mind, however, to add a pinch of cinnamon or a splash of vanilla. I held myself back and followed the recipe word for word (for once!) and I’m glad I did. A splash of vanilla and a pinch of cinnamon, it seems, is in everything these days especially around the holidays. And this recipe showcases flavors that are just a little bit off the beaten path, making these muffins excitingly different and a treat, all in one.
Chocolate Persimmon Muffins, via Kim Boyce’s Good to the Grain via David Lebovitz
For the dry ingredients:
1 cup (150g) buckwheat flour 1 1/2 cups (210g) all-purpose flour 6 tablespoons (20g) unsweetened cocoa powder, preferably Dutch-process 2 teaspoons baking powder 1/2 teaspoon baking soda 1 teaspoon kosher or sea salt
For the wet ingredients:
6 tablespoons (85g) unsalted butter, cold, cut into bits 1/4 cup (50g) dark brown sugar 1/4 cup (50g) granulated sugar 2 large eggs, at room temperature 1/2 cup (120g) plain yogurt (whole of lowfat) 2 cups (500ml) Hachiya persimmon puree (from about 2-pounds, 800g of persimmons) 4 ounces (115g) bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, chopped into 1/4-inch (1cm) chunks
1. Preheat the oven to 350ºF (180ºC). Butter a muffin pan (with a 1/3-cup capacity each).
2. Sift together all of the dry ingredients into a bowl, pressing through any lumps of leavening, then tilt any bits of grain left in the strainer back into the mixture. Or you can combine all the dry ingredients in a bowl and use a whisk to break apart anything, mix it all together, and lighten it up.
3. In a stand mixer, or by hand, beat the butter with the brown and granulated sugars until light and creamy, for three to five minutes.
4. Add the eggs one at a time, scraping down the sides of the bowl to make sure they’re incorporated.
5. Add the yogurt, then half of the persimmon puree.
6. Stir in half of the dry ingredients, then add the remaining persimmon puree.
Gently mix in the remaining dry ingredients until almost incorporated, then fold in the chocolate chunks and any chocolate dust.
7. Divide the batter into the muffin tins and if there are any bits of persimmon visible in the batter, lift them out with a spoon and distribute them over the top.
8. Bake the muffins for 30 to 35 minutes, rotating the muffin pan midway during baking. The muffins are done when they still feel still soft in the center and spring back lightly when pressed.
9. Let the muffins cool for a few minutes, until you can handle them, then lift them out of the pan and set them on a cooling rack.
Storage: The muffins are best the day they’re made, although you can store them in an airtight container for up to two days. They’ll be a little denser the next day. The muffins can also be frozen for up to two months.
Food writing is an amazing cacophony of intertwining stories, memories, personal histories, tastes, descriptive scenes, politics, and opinions. The story becomes the essence, showcasing the flavor of the author. Sometimes, it seems, I can’t get enough and thankfully there is a ton out there I haven’t read. I love stories and histories that involve food because often times passion, excitement, and tremendous change are involved in the narrators life. Food allows us to work from an intuitive place, if we allow it to happen. Think of all those people you know who come home from their day jobs and then throw themselves into making a wonderful meal. Food gives us the space, and time, to exercise another part of the brain and soul that may have been shut off during the work day.
Food blogs today are everywhere–I’m sure you’ve noticed! And I am immensely grateful for all of you who take the time to read this one! Thank you! One thing that I try to do with my little space here is to be genuinely honest–not only with you, but with myself. Food in so many ways has become a catalyst for not only exploring and discovering myself and my passions, but also helping me describe the journey and how it feels. Eating is Art was started because, well, I believe that is true! It became a reminder for myself that my everyday actions were just as important as the big things I was trying to achieve and they have just as much impact on my life as do the bigger decisions. The blog has held me accountable to myself. It is satisfying to look back and have a record of projects I’ve done and how my approaches and thoughts have grown. It is also a place where I come to share a piece of myself, reflect, and bake. The blog has become a journey in which I hadn’t anticipated its affect. I look forward to writing, sharing, and to you.
I made a wonderfully boozy Persimmon bread yesterday with a recipe from the Godfather of Cooking and food writing himself, James Beard. It was quite fruit-cake-esk, but not in a bad way. It is actually really festive tasting, with almost a cup of whiskey or bourbon used in it! The raisins, and nuts if you use them, meld wonderfully with the liquor flavoring and a hint of nutmeg finishes it off. I liked making it and eating it just to imagine James Beard doing so and then fully enjoying a warm slice himself. Plus, if you have 17 pounds of persimmons sitting around, all getting ripe at different times (thank goodness), this is a good recipe to have around 
.
But before I dive into the recipe, here are some of my favorite (and random) excerpts from Life is Meals, by James and Kay Salter. A truly phenomenal read and interesting approach to food, writing, art, and life–each chapter corresponds to a different day of the year and had significance to the authors themselves or in the vast time line of history.
“Following a wedding in ancient Egypt, there was a kind of trial period for the marriage that took place not only in the sleeping quarters but also at the table. It was called ‘a year of eating,’ after which the bride and groom either parted or continued as a couple. Presumably, this took into account that a married couple would spend many more of their waking hours at the table than in bed, and this was where true compatibility lay.”
“Brillat-Savarin gave us the four indispensables for a dinner:
1. Food that was at least passable
2. Good wine
3. Agreeable company
4. Enough time
Among the elements that he felt were desirable, though not essential:
1. A maximum of twelve guests
2. The room cool (60-68 degrees F), amply lit, and the table linen fresh
3. The evening lasting until at least eleven, but not beyond midnight. “
“A poet’s hope: to be
Like some valley cheese,
Local, but prized everywhere.
–W.H. Auden”
“Throughout [Winston Churchill's] long life, he ate well and drank heartily and once described a meal as follows: ‘Well, dinner would have been splendid if the wine had been as cold as the soup, the beef as rare as the service, the brandy as old as the fish, and the maid as willing as the Duchess.”
“Alice Waters once observed that in her experience, you can tell whether a chef is a man or a woman by looking at your plate: a man builds a tower, a woman makes a nest.”
Persimmon Bread, via David Lebovits via James Beard
Adapted from Beard on Bread by James Beard.
3½ cups sifted flour
1½ teaspoons salt
2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 to 2½ cups sugar
1 cup melted unsalted butter and cooled to room temperature
4 large eggs, at room temperature, lightly beaten
2/3 cup Cognac, bourbon or whiskey
2 cups persimmon puree (from about 4 squishy-soft Hachiya persimmons)
2 cups walnuts or pecans, toasted and chopped
2 cups raisins, or diced dried fruits (such as apricots, cranberries, or dates)
1. Butter 2 loaf pans. Line the bottoms with a piece of parchment paper or dust with flour and tap out any excess.
2. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
3. Sift the first 5 dry ingredients in a large mixing bowl.
4. Make a well in the center then stir in the butter, eggs, liquor, persimmon puree then the nuts and raisins.
5. Bake 1 hour or until toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.
Storage: Will keep for about a week, if well-wrapped, at room temperature. The Persimmon Breads take well to being frozen, too.
There are some things that the camera just doesn’t have time to capture before we devour something in our house. My favorite gingerbread is definitely one of those things. I found this recipe while reading MFK Fisher’s The Art of Eating. I have only made this version since and I will continue to do so for all of time–it’s that good.
The flavors of this gingerbread hearken to an old-fashioned cake–spicy, extremely moist, and irresistible. It is not super sweet, somehow making it really easy to take large hunks each time you pass the kitchen (or, at least that is what I have been doing!). This gingerbread is what makes the dreary, cold, and rainy fall / winter days bearable for me because I think “there’s always gingerbread” that can be made. And I honestly look forward to it. There just seems something wrong with making this cake-like bread when it’s warm and sunny out–I’ve never been able to make myself do it. So I make sure to utilize the cold and cloudy days of the winter very wisely, with several of these made throughout the season .
I had a massive persimmon picking session this weekend with the Portland Fruit Tree Project. We arrived at the designated spot and gazed at an amazingly bountiful persimmon tree, gluttonous for those sweet and tender fruits. They are now all lined up on my dining room window sill waiting for optimum ripening. I’ve been doing some good research about different uses for persimmons. So far, my favorite is for a pudding (which I’ve made before and was mind blowing).
But I now have 17 pounds of persimmons I have got to find something to do with. Any of you have a favorite recipe? Or have always wanted to try a recipe with persimmons but haven’t been able? I’d love to know because I’ve got a lot to use!
Edith’s Gingerbread, The Art of Eating
*This recipe is old–the original instructions are actually quite confusing because there are a lot of little steps to take with each ingredient. So, I’ve rewritten it in a way that I hope is easier for you to understand and easily follow more consecutively*
First
1/4 cup earth balance or butter (she calls for shortening–if you use it, try non-hydrogenated)
1/4 cup sugar
–Cream the butter and sugar together in a bowl.
Second
1/2 cup molasses
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
–Whisk the baking soda into the molasses well, then using a spatula transfer into the creamed butter and sugar bowl. Mix well.
Third
In yet another bowl, whisk together…
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1-2 teaspoons ginger (I like it on the spicy side)
1 teaspoon cloves
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/4 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
–After you’ve whisked these, set bowl aside.
Fourth
3/4 cup boiling water
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
–Add the baking soda to the boiling water. Alternate adding to the creamed butter, sugar, molasses mixture with the dry ingredients.
Fifth
1 egg
–Add a slightly beaten egg to the entire mixture until combined.
Finally
Pour into a prepared (buttered and floured) square pan. Place into center rack in a preheated oven of 325 degrees F. Bake for 20 minutes or until a toothpick is inserted in the center and comes out clean. *I had to bake mine for about twice that amount of time (40 mins) and I am not sure if it is because of my oven in particular or if back then ovens were just a heckuva lot hotter due to being wood burning or something. Just make sure you check yours after 20 minutes, if it looks completely underdone and the center is still wobbly, not to worry, just put it back in there for ten more minutes, check it and it may even need five to ten more minutes after that to be completely baked in the middle.
This gingerbread is worth it!
Cheers!
