Fuyu Persimmon Bundt Cake

We had some friends come in from out of town and visit us this weekend. We made a Korean-themed dinner for them after learning that they enjoy Asian food, and finished off our feast with a not-Asian-at-all-but-still-delicious cake.
As a side note, I have had a canker sore on my tongue all week, which meant that I couldn't take a bite of food, chew, talk, or exist without mild to severe discomfort. And in case you're thinking about herpes, do note: a canker sore is not a contagious virus like a cold sore. But it sure does make life miserable.
The healing of said canker sore couldn't have come at a more welcome time, because it allowed me to fully enjoy (without pain!) the Fuyu Persimmon Bundt Cake we made with the persimmons we foraged and froze last month. Recipes for Fuyu persimmons were hard to come by, but this one (originally published in Sunset magazine in the 1970's) is a winner, so I want to share it with anyone else who has or will have a persimmon surplus on their hands.

This cake is my kind of dessert - old-fashioned, humble, unassuming, yet fabulous in an understated way. The warm spiced cake is marbled with moist chunks of fruit, raisins and nuggets of walnut. I added on a simple cream cheese frosting to dress it up a bit and it was a perfect conclusion to a January evening.

Fuyu Persimmon Bundt Cake

Grease and flour a bundt cake pan. Preheat oven to 350.

Blend 2 tsp. baking soda into 3 cups of chopped firm Fuyus. Set aside.

In a large bowl, beat 1/2 cup soft butter with 1 2/3 cups sugar. Add 2 eggs, 2 tsp. lemon juice, and 2 tsp. vanilla and beat until fluffy. Stir in Fuyu mix.

Sift together 2 cups flour, 1 tsp. baking powder, 1 tsp. salt, 1 tsp. ground cloves, 1 tsp. cinnamon, and 1/2 tsp. nutmeg. Stir flour into Fuyu mixture just until blended. Add 1 cup chopped walnuts and 3/4 cup raisins.

Pour into prepared bundt pan. Bake at 350 for 55 - 60 minutes or until toothpick tests clean. Cool in pan 15 minutes. Turn onto rack.

Persimmon Chutney

I think my kitchen is going to smell like chutney for a while. After a day of soaking and an evening of boiling and canning, the spicy vinegar scent has permeated every room of our apartment. But I'm so glad I tried this recipe! Here is the finished product, 3 jars full of persimmon chutney. Don't they look bright and glowing and ready to stock my larder (if I had a larder)?

You can't get much better than a vintage recipe from a New Zealand grandmother. Thanks to Florence and her blog for the recipe. I have Americanized it for your and my convenience (chilli became jalepeno, mixed peel became candied citrus peel, brown vinegar became apple cider vinegar, etc.). Below, you can see the amazing colors of the finished product, not to mention the complex combination of sweet, fruity, spicy and sour flavors.


I tried a little of what was left in the pan tonight on a cracker with some sliced turkey and it was delicious, even to a chutney novice like myself. I think it would be phenomenal with poultry or cheese. I'm planning on spooning some over cream cheese on a platter with crackers for Christmas. Won't it look festive on a plate?

Persimmon Chutney

6 large ripe persimmons, peeled and chopped
1 small red onion
1 jalepeno, finely chopped (omit seeds for less heat)
1 tsp. mustard seeds
1 tsp. celery seeds
1/3 c. golden raisins
1/4 c. currents
1 T. candied citrus peel (I used lemon)
1 tsp. chopped ginger
1 clove garlic, crushed
1/2 tsp. each of cinnamon, nutmeg and allspice
1/3 c. white sugar
1/3 c. apple cider vinegar
1/3 c. lemon juice (freshly squeezed)

Chop onion and jalepeno. Tie the mustard and celery seeds in a piece of fine cheesecloth and tie into a bag with a piece of kitchen twine. Combine all ingredients, except persimmons. Cover and let stand overnight (or about 8 hours). Place mixture in a large saucepan and boil for 30 minutes. Add peeled persimmons and boil slowly until thickened. Pour into hot sterilized jars. Makes about a pint.

The Joys of Foraging

It never ceases to amaze me that even in the cold, rainy midst of winter, nature is capable of providing nourishment. As I walked through my parent’s back yard this weekend, I noticed an unusual-looking fruit lying on the ground under what I had always mistaken for an ornamental bush. After some taste testing and research, I discovered that the fruits are called Feijoa, or Pineapple Guavas (pictured above), and are native to South America. Inside, the soft pulp is citrusy, both tart and sweet and fun to squeeze out, while the protective tough green skin may be discarded.




The very next day, a friend from church learned of my love for persimmons and offered to let me and my husband come and glean the fruit from their persimmon tree, as her family doesn’t care for this fruit. I jumped at this opportunity, and this is how my refrigerator came to be overcrowded with four bulging bags of fruit.

Three of the bags contain the bright orange orbs of Fuyu persimmons. The trouble is, Fuyus are generally eaten raw, unlike Hachiyas where the pulp is often pureed and used in baked goods. I’ve had quite a time figuring out how to preserve the fruit to keep it from going to waste.


I finally decided upon a double batch of both persimmon jam and persimmon chutney (one version, pictured above). So far, the jam came out fairly well, although I probably didn’t add enough sugar. Jam recipes are notoriously scientific and unforgiving of aberration. I like things a little on the mild side anyway, and will still consider my jam something to look forward to on toast. Tonight, I will take a stab at my first ever chutney - a recipe I found posted by a New Zealand blogger chronicling her grandmother’s vintage recipes. It sounded fascinating - whoever first imagined that raisins, onions, garlic, ginger, and fruit would go together?

As tiring as it may be, I love that gleaning and preserving food allows me to feel a connection to nature, as well as to my ancestors, who performed these acts by way of necessity. Today, I choose to do these same acts because it gives me a peaceful feeling to participate in such a timeless act universal to all humanity. Bounty surrounds us if we seek it out.